Author: Sharron Burnett

I will try to measure my words carefully as I write how I am feeling, but experience has told me that no matter how hard I try to be calm and understanding there will be those who misinterpret my intent. I still physically hurt over the results of the presidential election last week. I have tried to make sense of it but I find myself coming up without answers again and again. Mostly I have been silent in my grief, but a few friends have reached out to me and we have commiserated with each other. I suppose that most people have simply moved on and are ready to jumpstart the holiday season, but it will take some time for my heart to mend because I have so many questions about what went wrong and why what I saw as goodness and justice was viewed so differently by the majority of Americans, many of whom are members of my family and dear friends.

I will admit that I have never once voted for Donald Trump. In my mind he represents the exact opposite of how I was taught to believe and be. It is clear to me that he has little respect for women and that he is a boastful man who often bullys the most vulnerable among us and anyone who dares to disagree with him. I have never heard him speaking with kindness and I feel that he has misrepresented himself as a Christian and protector of our nation. Every word he utters, every deed he performs seemed more concerned with enriching and enhancing his own power and wealth. His first term in office was chaotic and ended with the deaths of far too many Americans from Covid that he might have saved if he had not been so intent on making light of the pandemic. His dishonesty and bungling left most of the good men and women who had worked for him warning the rest of us that he is not to be trusted with the reins of our nation. 

Then came January 6, 2021, when I saw and heard Trump become a dangerous force by taunting his followers with lies about the election that he had fairly lost. He turned on his own Vice President, Mike Pence, and goaded the people whom he had called to Washington to storm Congress and stop the legal certification of the election. It was the most stunning and traitorous moment that I had seen in my lifetime. I thought that surely he would go down infamy and never again be allowed to go near the Oval office. It was apparent to me that he could not be trusted to represent the democratic republic on which we all rely. The image of that day will never leave me. I can never forgive him for the insurgence that he created. If not for the courage of Mike Pence and the members of Congress we might have lost our government and the soul of our nation on that day. 

For four years I have waited for justice to come to Donald Trump only to be disappointed again and again. I have watched him carefully the way that my mother taught me to protect myself from those who might harm me. I listened to what he was saying and doing and it was all so horrific to me. The ugliness and hate that he spewed from his mouth made it all the more unbelievable that he did not seem to lose his faithful followers. The fact that no real punishment for his many crimes was forthcoming inflamed my own sense of right and wrong. I am not vindictive in any way. In fact I tend to be reticent and more inclined to a willingness to forgive, but Trump made no effort to be contrite. His diatribes only became more and more dishonest and vile. I believed that surely I was not the only one noticing this. I felt certain that in the end the American people would vote to save decency and our democracy over all other issues. I could not believe that any other concern we might have had was as important as finally sending this horrible man away. 

I realize that inflation has been a terrible burden on the citizens of our nation. For that matter it has stalked the entire world. The consequences of a worldwide event like the pandemic often take years to resolve and we have been moving in the right direction. The truth is that much of the bombast that Trump spouted about the economy was an oversimplification of the issues. He talked about the high price of eggs without acknowledging that we also had a terrible outbreak of avian influenza that resulted in the deaths of many of the chickens. He never addressed the worldwide supply chain issues that affected trade because of Covid. He acted as though all we needed to do to bring down the price of gasoline is drill more when surely he knew as I did that in the last four years there has been more drilling in the United States than in the four years of his presidency. The US companies are delivering oil on a large scale. Prices have come down.

The truth is that the economy is complex and no longer based only on what happens in the United States. International trade is essential to businesses and installing strict tariffs may indeed make things far worse. The unintended consequences of such a move will no doubt create an artificial trade war that will trickle down even to all of us and will most certainly increase the price of goods even more. 

The issue of immigration certainly needs to be addressed. Most of us agree on that. Sadly Trump used his influence to kill a bill in Congress that would have been a start in the right direction. His promise to deport millions will be chaotic and inhumane. It too will have a negative effect on the economy and no doubt on our reputation in the world. I suspect that many innocents will be caught up in the hunt for illegals and the cost of such a huge endeavor will be mind-blowing. 

How do I know these things? It is because I spend hours each day researching every issue. I listened to the exact words that Trump uttered at his many rallies and on his Truth Social platform. I read the analyses of economists, constitutional experts, scientists, lawyers, anyone who had carefully studied each of the issues and in virtually every instance it became apparent to me how disastrous a Trump presidency would be for all of us. For that reason I made a terrible error in judgement. I assumed that everyone else was thinking the way I was and that we Americans would set things right by resoundingly rejecting the evils and lies of Donald Trump once and for all time. 

I have been devastated to learn that not only did few people see things the way I do but that many of them truly see people like me as the hateful and ignorant ones. As though I am looking into a fun house mirror I hear them repeating a distorted version of my own feelings. They see Trump as the savior, the good Christian man who will protect us and bring down prices and make our nation strong while I am literally drowning in concerns over whether or not our country will even make it when we have given so much power to such a weak and cruel man. 

So this is how I am feeling. This is what I believe. I have cried and felt a sense of anxiety that is soul crushing. I would like to be wrong but somehow my instincts tell me that the times ahead will be treacherous for us all. I won’t be unfriending anyone. That is not my style. My love for friends and family is unending even when they turn on me. For now I have to heal my disappointed heart. There will be serious work to be done to get us through the coming years. I hope that the day will come again when we are led by decency and concern for all. I will be working to make that happen. I want our young citizens to have a role model who does not spew hate, division and lies. I want a president who will make us proud again. I know there are people out there who will fit the bill. Hopefully the damage that Trump will surely do will not be enough to destroy us. We have much work to do. 

Back at the end of the nineteen seventies my husband brought home a TRS 80 computer from Radio Shack. I thought he had lost his mind when I heard what he had payed for the thing but I composed myself when I saw the look in his eyes as he described what he believed was the future of technology. That machine worked with a tape deck and did very little but he made it sing, spending hours guiding it do things that seemed a tiny bit amazing. 

It wasn’t long before he became an Apple groupie bringing one of their computers into our home with as much optimism as he had shown for what we jokingly called the “Trash 80.” I was actually impressed with the Apple II e with its two floppy disc drives. I was able to do a great deal more with his increased capabilities and larger memory. By then our daughter was learning to do some simple programming to create a game and my husband was making the computer do all kinds of useful things. He created a wonderful electronic system for storing and averaging grades that I got permission to use instead of the old fashioned handwritten and calculated grade book. Our family was on its way to a technological world and I was not at all angry that we were running ahead of the curve. 

Of course we’ve updated and upgraded consistently since those times. The laptop that I use to compose my blogs has more capabilities than the huge machines used at NASA to put men on the moon. I almost take the convenience of my phone and my watch and all of the other advances for granted these days. I get to places I have never before been without a paper map. My phone provides wonderful directions. I constantly look up information on my computer. I have multiple digital subscriptions to newspapers and magazines. I easily stream movies and television programs. I can remotely teach with Zoom. I marvel every single day at how much easier it is to live than it was way back when so many things had to be done by hand. I even have a little robot that vacuums my home leaving me with more time to do other things.

My husband continues to look ahead at the inventiveness of humans. He plans to get a new phone that will monitor many of his health issues. He is excited about trying AirPods that will supposedly act as hearing aids. Mostly he is fascinated by the promises of Artificial Intelligence. Thus we found ourselves watching a special program about the future of AI hosted by Oprah Winfree. 

Oprah looked at the good the bad and the ugly of AI. There are things that it may one day do that will change the way we educate our children and diagnose diseases and health issues. At the same time we are already seeing the capability of AI to create untrue situations that appear to be quite valid. All of the experts were both excited and wary of what the next ten years of AI may bring to society. If we are measured and sensitive to the needs of humanity in using AI it may create a wondrous world. In the wrong hands it has the potential to wreak havoc.

All of the experts who spoke insisted that the very sensitivity and creativity of humans will be the key in using AI properly. For example, teachers can use the diagnostic abilities of AI to quickly learn the individual needs of each and every student, but their personal touch will still be key in helping students to overcome deficiencies. Machines can’t build confidence or know the best way to work with someone. So there is a consensus that teacher will always be necessary. Sadly there is great concern that some jobs may become extinct with AI so society will have to be certain that everyone still has meaningful work to do. 

We have already heard about AI mimicking voices so well that different scams have been successful. People have been bullied and even black mailed with AI photo and video creations that make them appear to be deviant or criminal. The FBI has confirmed such instances that pushed individuals to commit suicide. We humans will have to become much more careful about jumping to conclusions based on evidence that may in fact have been altered or just made up from someone’s sick imagination. 

Nonetheless less the most avid fans of AI including my husband seem to think that overall the rapidly improving technology will rock the world even more than computers have done. They imagine elderly individuals being able to live in their homes with incredible machines that cook, clean and care for them. They see knowledge being conveyed at the fingertips of everyone. They predict a world in which much of the drudgery of labor will be performed by machines leaving us to use the more creative and inventive sides of our natures. 

I’m not so sure that I am totally convinced that this will be a good thing. I envision all kinds of problems. It is part and parcel of my training as an educator to anticipate hiccups before they happen. I see many things that might go wrong, especially since the process is moving so quickly that we may not have time to adapt and notice the kinks before they do great damage. I find myself being a bit unenthusiastic like I was when the TRS 80 came into my home. I’m hoping that my worries about AI will be just as unlikely as they were with technology back then. I like the idea of progress but will hold my opinion until I see what happens. 

I like my food and my people to be salty. I prefer chips and crackers and people who are willing to express themselves just as they are. My mother was salty and I loved that aspect of her behavior. Most of the time she was refined and sweetly kind but she knew exactly when and how to let her frisky side rein free. I love women like that who manage to maintain control of every situation even in a world traditionally dominated by men. When my father died she skillfully used her saltiness to raise my brothers and me in a secure yet adventurous environment. It was only when she became ill that she seemed to lose herself and I truly missed the feisty woman that I knew she was.

I’ve had cats and loved them but once my little girl proved to be allergic to them I became totally enamored with team dog. I found out how truly faithful and protective those critters are. Living with a dog is like having an instant true friend every hour of every day. Dogs sidle up and hug with their entire bodies and we all know that nothing beats a good hug. I am petless now because I have an elderly man living in our home. He takes up a great deal of my extra time. Having a dog would only complicate our situation and besides my ninety five year old father-in-law might trip over a pet who is just trying to be friendly. 

Perhaps I’ll get a furry companion later in my life when all I really have to do is read and pen stories and blogs while sipping on tea. I think perhaps a Golden Retriever will be my choice because I have found them to be such a loving breed. We will cuddle together on the couch while I enjoy fiction books or she will be by my side when I sit on my back porch gazing at the stars on a cool night. Whatever I choose to do will be just fine for that dog. She will adapt to me and I to her. Our silent friendship will be strong because that’s just the nature of a good dog. 

I’m not much of a game player. I prefer Scrabble or crossword puzzles to checkers or chess. I enjoy some card games and remember a time when my mother held Canasta tournaments in our kitchen on hot summer days before we had air conditioning. Neighbors would gather to play hotly competitive games while cooling themselves with Mama’s homemade lemonade. Those lazy days were so much fun and sometimes I think that it would be fun to gather people for game days now and again. 

Of course I really love to spend my free time watching movies. When I was teaching and my daughters were young we often had movie days in July when the temperatures made being outside almost impossible. I’d gather our favorite foods and snacks and we would wile away the hours in our pajamas watching movies that we rented from Blockbuster. Of course there is no Blockbuster anymore and my daughters are long gone with families of their own. Somehow it’s not as much fun to set aside a day of streaming one show after the next but there are times when I would love to watch an entire series uninterrupted if I could find a day with nothing else to do.

These days my time is structured almost as much as it was when I was a working mom. I have to keep things in order so that my father-in-law won’t become confused by the constant changes that I actually prefer. I’m an early bird who rises before the sun peeks over the horizon. I like getting a jump on the day. I give myself time to clear the fuzziness in my brain and luckily I don’t have to do that on the fly to join the daily commutes on the road. as was once my fate. Instead I play a number of word games, acquaint myself with the morning news, make lists of tasks I need to complete or items I must soon purchase at the store.

 It is my creative time of day as well as when I meditate and write my blogs. Sometimes I picture myself in peaceful faraway places like the mountains that I so love. My imagination quickly takes me there and I feel a kind of contentment that flows throughout my body and my mind. Then the house and the neighborhood begin to come alive. I hear children laughing, workers driving to their jobs, my father-in-law shuffling to the kitchen. I know it’s time to get serious about the day. My golden moments of being silent will come again tomorrow. I have to muster my enthusiasm for more practical endeavors. 

The rapid firing of duties begins and I have always been a GOAT when it comes to getting things done. I confer with my calendar and lay out plans for the week and the month. I am ready for a smooth reckoning of the day’s demands even if a surprise comes way. That book about vampires that I purchased at the bookstore will have to wait. I am on the clock ticking off the tasks that keep things moving just as they should do. Somehow it feels good to be in control. I think of how maybe my salty mom was right in suggesting that I actually take delight in being a control freak. I guess it’s just the way that I am.

it has taken decades for me to reach this point and I actually like who I am. I know I am still imperfect, but who isn’t? I try to keep a growth mindset and hope that I will continue to evolve. Maybe one day I might actually achieve my secret goal of being salty. 

Lead by example with hope, never fear. —-Michelle Obama

I am a huge fan of Michelle Obama. I found myself identifying with her when I read her autobiography. I certainly cannot totally understand what it is like to be a Black person, but I do know a thing or two about the roadblocks associated with being a woman. Like Mrs. Obama I often found myself wondering if I truly had what it takes to be successful in a world that often convinced me to underestimate my own abilities. Even as I succeeded academically there was a part of me that felt as though I was not really being taken seriously. All too often I heard comments from teachers about my hard work being the source of my good grades rather than intelligence. They would remark that I fooled them into thinking that I was actually rather dull given my quiet demeanor and reluctance to assert myself. Their attempts to explain their surprise when I did well in their classes only fortified my own fears that perhaps I was somehow lacking and unworthy. 

Perhaps it was being thrown into the unexpected role of caretaker for my mother before I was even twenty one years old that provided me with the courage and conviction that I eventually developed. I became unafraid and unconcerned with other people’s opinions of me. I realized that I had what I needed to find navigate through life and it didn’t matter whether it was because of my determination or my I.Q. Like Michelle Obama I ultimately found myself and my destiny. 

I proudly became a teacher determined to help my students overcome the fears that they had. My goal was to increase their knowledge but also their understanding of their own capabilities. I wanted to give them hope, so I tried to push through the fears that they had. I especially wanted to do this for all of the students in my classroom because I knew what barriers they might one day face. While society has certainly advanced with regard to opportunities for everyone we have all seen and encountered people with old school prejudices. 

I remember having a discussion with a young girl who was doing poorly in all of her classes. She smiled and told me that she did not need schooling because her goal in life was to marry and become a mother. While I regard that as a noble vocation I worried about what might happen to her if for some reason her husband were to die or become abusive. I knew that she would be better off if she had skills that would make her strong and independent.

She argued that she would just go back home to her parents if things went awry with her marriage. I countered by pointing out that her parents might ultimately grow old and die leaving her without a plan to take care of herself and her children. Her response was that she would depend on her brother if that happened. When I asked her what she would do if her brother was unable to provide her with aid she suddenly paused as though she was thinking things through for the first time.

Eventually I convinced her that she was smart and able to take care of herself. I urged her to take advantage of building a foundation of education that would assure that she would always have backup goals for any emergency that might arise. She shook her head in agreement as though a light had just become illuminated in her mind. From that moment she went on to become one of my top students. She believed in herself and began to glow with confidence.

Teaching was almost a religious experience for me. I so often found children whose souls had been severely damaged. They were afraid of being found to be inadequate most especially in mathematics and so they adopted a false bravado or they disappeared into a protective shell. I knew that helping them to see their worth and how to use their abilities was just as important as demonstrating how to solve an equation. I was open to them about my own self doubts and spoke of how I discovered how to find the conviction that I needed. I tried to be patient with them as they tentatively made efforts to attempt to master concepts that were difficult. I urged then to enjoy the journey of learning rather than be afraid of it. We worked together. Everything I did was geared to make them stronger, not to tear them down. I never knew for certain if they had understood what I was attempting to accomplish with them until a few mornings ago. 

I went through my early in the day routines of playing all the word games in The New York Times then I went to Facebook to wish happy birthdays to anyone born on that day. After that I posted my blog for the day and began to scan the posts that showed up on my wall. Imagine my surprise when I saw that one of my former students had named me as the best math teacher that she ever had. Her reason for doing so was that I had patiently helped her to realize how competent she was as a student. Honestly I had thought of her as a brilliant young woman from the start. I literally cried upon realizing that I had change her feelings about herself because that it what I had always hoped to do for anyone wondering if they had the ability to grow in knowledge. When other students joined in on the post with stories of their own I realized that my students had reciprocated in helping me to understand that I had somehow accomplished my life’s goal. it was a moment of mutual admiration. I knew that my example had been positive for them and they in turn had bolstered my hopes that I had made a difference. 

I can never begin to express how much love I have for each and every one of my students. They are all my children and I love nothing more than hearing that they are doing well. I dream of them and worry about them, I hope that in every case I have been an example for them. I pray that they are as proud of themselves as I am of them.  

My grandmother, Minnie Bell, used to make lovely quilts for the family out of scraps of cloth. She did not own a sewing machine but instead made all of her stitches by hand. She worked on her projects when she was not working in her gardens or cooking meals and canning the fruit and vegetables that she had grown. Her quilts were lovely pieces that kept us warm in the wintertime and washed quite well in our machine. We used them until the fabric became frayed and holes began to appear leaving batting material to peak out. Eventually we traded them for manufactured blankets that were never the same as the colorful creations that our grandmother had made with love. 

Of course I wish that we had taken more care is using the old quilts from Grandma Minnie. It never occurred to us that her fingers would become so afflicted with arthritis that she would not longer be able to work with a needle for long periods of time. We never predicted that cataracts would cover her pupils making it almost impossible to see well enough to create designs. Somehow we imagined that both she and her quilts would be an eternal part of our lives, not understanding that the gift of having her was only temporary and not for all of our lives.

I now only have a very small block that my grandmother pieced together in the final years before her body failed her. It shows the downturn in her health with the imperfections that were never present in her best work. My mother lovingly did her best to create a tiny quilt for my dolls as a remembrance of Grandma’s handiwork. I was old enough and wise enough by then to handle it with care and keep it stored in a tiny trunk that I have carried from one place to another with some of my other treasures. 

I didn’t think much about quilting and the artistry that it requires until my friend, Pat Weimer, suggested that the two of attend the annual the Houston International Quilt Show a couple of decades ago. We joined thousands of quilting enthusiasts at the George Brown Convention Center on a November day to view the creative artwork of quilters from nations around the world. We walked through the aisles gazing in awe at quilts that looked more like paintings than bits of cloth cut and sewn together in ways that made them seem vibrant and alive. 

Pat and I went many times to the annual event but once she became sick and died I never again returned until this year. I had told my husband, Mike, several times that I wanted to go to the annual event, but did not want to go alone. While he showed an interest in accompanying me, something always seemed to collide with our plans and so the years and then the decades passed without a visit to that glorious celebration of artistry. Nonetheless, I put a notation on our calendar each year in the hopes that one day we might find the time to go. 

On November 2, of this year Mike saw my reminder and suggested that we go. It was a blustery rainy day spo a part of me wanted to just stay warm and cozy in the house. Still, I knew that if I turned him down such an opportunity might never again happen. I applied a bit of makeup to my face, fluffed my hair, put on my shoes and we drove through a downpour. We found covered parking in a garage with a direct route to the convention center without braving the wrath of the storm. It felt wonderful to be back once again and I immediately smiled as I thought of how Pat would have approved of the serendipity of the moment that had brought us there. She was always ready for a spontaneous adventure and surely this was one.

We took or time viewing the hundreds of quilts that were awesome in their complexity. We learned from one of the exhibitors just how exacting it is to create a pattern using pieces cut precisely at angles measured in a mathematical rendering that make seams disappear. She spoke of the art of determining the colors and the skills of keeping the projects from puckering so that they will lie flat while giving a three dimensional appearance. The messages of each piece told stories of both the creators and their ideas. 

I was gazing at one of the winning quilts when a woman came up behind me and admitted that she had kept coming back to it over and over again.. “It tears me apart,” she confessed and I understood what she meant. It was a quilt done in black white and gray. It showed the changing face of Volodymyr Zelenskyy from the time that he was a smiling comedian starring in a Ukrainian in television series through his transition from the early times of his Presidency to the present times of war. It was a study in contrasts that represented the man in the most moving ways. I too found myself shedding tears as I studied it. 

Mike boasted that the people watching was almost as fun as viewing the exquisite quilts. There were women wearing beautiful hats and long flowing dresses. There were ladies boldly sporting Kamala Harris for President shirts. There were older ladies getting around on rented scooters or limping with walkers and canes. Everyone was happy and friendly and I thought of my Grandmother Minnie and my dear friend Pat. Then a stranger looked at me and said, “Isn’t it nice to be here with our sisters?” I nodded. Yes, it was! We were all part of the artistry of life. Even Mike saw it and understood. I knew that Grandma Minnie and Pat would have agreed as well.