Category: Blog

Another Victim

Published on by Sharron Burnett1 Comment

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Aside from my father’s death I have to admit that my childhood was idyllic. I lived in a neighborhood that was like a small town. For many of us who resided there it centered on Our Lady of Mount Carmel Catholic Church which also offered a first through eighth grade education to those willing to pay the relatively small tuition. The area and the church were shiny and new back then and booming with the children of World War II veterans. Much like any suburban subdivision the homes ran the gamut from custom built brick to wooden ,models. The people who lived there were mostly middle class with those on the higher economic end having college degrees and professional titles.

My family lived at the outer edge of what was known as Overbrook. Our home was quite basic with three bedrooms and one bathroom. It was quite different from the one that we had when my father was alive with it’s extra bathrooms, built in bookcases, wood paneling and formal dining area. Nonetheless it was a great place to be as a child and I will be forever grateful to my mother for providing me and my brothers with the security of living in such a safe and child centered place.

My mother was an old school religious woman who believed that it was imperative to send her children to Catholic school and so she enrolled me and my brothers in Our Lady of Mt. Carmel as soon as it was time to begin our educations. The experience was nothing short of delightful.

The school was bursting at the seams back then. There were at least four sections of every single grade with twenty five to thirty children in each classroom. Every grade level was anchored by a School Sister of Notre Dame and the other teaching spots were filled with lay people. My mother managed to give us the private school education by working as a teacher there. We were allowed to attend at no cost and she received a small salary that helped us make ends meet at home. It could not have been a more perfect situation for any of us.

We had no air conditioning in the classrooms in those days which meant that for many months of the school year it was rather hot. Somehow we never seemed to mind the stifling air but it was admittedly nice to have a seat next to one of the big fans that whirred constantly as we learned, and learn we did in those halcyon days.

Our teachers were tough, but kind, (with the exception of one.) Our school was known throughout the city for being one of the best. We were well schooled in grammar, usage, literature, writing, mathematics, history, science and of course religion. I literally grew up with the same group of friends year after year as I advanced through the grades. Many of my pals’ mothers taught alongside my mother and from them I accumulated so much knowledge that I was still explaining to professors in college where I had become so well educated.

Our Lady of Mount Carmel School had sports teams of every variety and a drill team that became one of my favorite groups. By the time I was in the eighth grade I was the captain of the twirlers and enjoying the kinship of young ladies that I know to this very day. The school and its people were well known for excellence and so I was rather proud to be part of it all.

I eventually moved on to Mt. Carmel High School, then college and finally to my adult life. Just as I had changed so too did my old neighborhood and with it, Our Lady of Mount Carmel Catholic School. Many of the old families had moved away and the new occupants of the homes more often than not did not have either the inclination nor the income to send their children to a private school. My old alma mater struggled to stay afloat as even the School Sisters of Notre Dame moved away and the salaries for lay teachers became a burden on the budget.

With each passing year it became more and more difficult to keep the school going. The buildings were no longer shiny and new. In fact, they began to have a careworn appearance that spoke of the problems getting students and teachers to keep things going. The academic excellence that my friends and I had experienced was slowly eroding until the Diocese of Galveston Houston decided to rescue the school from total bankruptcy. It seemed important to be able to provide the new residents of the area with an opportunity to give their children a Catholic school education but the reality is that the school was only a shell of what it had once been in spite of herculean efforts from dedicated individuals intent on keeping the fine tradition of the school alive.

There have been countless victims of the current pandemic. The world mourns the people who have lost their lives to this virus. We also hear of businesses that have closed and will never again open. Both our personal and economic health is reeling. Among the casualties is my old school, Our Lady of Mount Carmel. In late April the diocese announced that it, along with some other struggling schools,\\\\ would be permanently closed siting a lack of funding to keep things going any longer.

I suppose that the death of Our Lady of Mount Carmel had been in the cards for many years. I had witnessed its demise when I traveled to the old neighborhood to tutor students at Cristo Rey College Preparatory which is situated next door. I saw the peeling paint, patched roof and pothole rutted parking lot instead of the building that had been so modern and glorious when I was a student there. I spoke with people who taught there and realized how desperate their situation had become. While they worked to save the school that they loved they understood that it was getting more and more difficult to find students to fill the seats. The people living nearby often struggle just to get by. It is doubtful that many of them had the income necessary to pay tuition. Now with churches lagging behind in their contributions each Sunday because they have been closed I am sure that the diocese realized that the luxury of keeping schools such as Mt. Carmel afloat was no longer an option.

I’m filled with great sadness at this news. I worry that there will be so many more losses of once fine institutions before all is said and done. I grieve for those students who will no longer have this school as an option. Maybe it is indeed for the best, but I profoundly sad that my old school is no more. I will have to be content with my memories which include the magnificent education that I found there and the forever friends who shared those glorious times with me. 

Stick With the Plan

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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Back when our girls were in middle school and high school we took long car trips each summer with our gear stowed in the back of our truck. We generally made reservations at campgrounds before hitting the road, but sometimes our wanderlust led us to unexpected places where we needed to find a spot to pitch our tent for an evening. On one such occasion we decided to take a little detour to Yellowstone National Park on a return trip from Glacier National Park in Montana. It was a bit of a drive to say the least but we were young and adventurous back then. We assumed that somebody would have a little patch of ground for camping available so we didn’t really think there would be a problem bunking down for the night. We were wrong.

This was the year of the big fires in Yellowstone so many of the usual camping areas were closed down to protect both the wildlife and the tourists. We spent several hours hiking around the parts of the park that were still open and gazing at Old Faithful, then as the sun went down on the horizon we set out in search of a place to stop for the night. To our dismay nothing was available anywhere. As the clock ticked we even tried hotels and motels but there was no room at the inn. In a state of exhaustion we eventually found a spot to park the truck and curled up into uncomfortable balls hoping to get some rest inside the confines of the truck.

I doubt that any of us other than Mike slept much at all. By morning we felt grouchy and unkempt but we suffered silently while Mike searched for a service station where he might fill up the tank with gasoline and rustle up some food for breakfast. When he went inside to get the grub and pay for the gas all hell broke loose inside our vehicle as the girls and I vented our crankiness and frustrations. It was a prize winning bitch fest that ended as suddenly as it had begun as soon as we saw Mike emerge from the convenience store bearing coffee, milk and donuts. With a satisfied grin on his face he passed out the goodies while exclaiming how proud of us he was. “You are really troopers!” We simply sat silently exchanging Cheshire Cat grins with one another while munching on our makeshift breakfast. 

The way many of us are now feeling during our period of isolation reminds me of that time of long ago. We had been cooped inside that truck for long stretches of time during our cross country travels. When we had the luxury of unwinding in the open air and enjoying a warm shower before lying down to sleep we adjusted well, but when the uncertainty of finding a place to rest became real it rocked our sense of security and we lost our decorum. I think that the long stretch of time locked mostly in our homes during the pandemic has frayed our nerves in a similar manner and as a result we are all over the place in our interactions with one another. Our anxieties however they may lead us are making us snap at those who appear to disagree with our way of thinking. Petty fights are breaking out more and more often.

There seem to be three camps right now: those who have decided that the whole situation is an overreaction that must end, those who are so fearful that they will be wary of leaving their homes for an indefinite period of time, and those who believe that if we use data, caution and proper measures for returning to the business of living we should eventually be okay. In the moment our nerves are exacerbating our clashes of opinion. We are sometimes aiming our anger at one another rather than the problems.

This pandemic has created a big gooey ball of difficulties that range from illness to economic loss to psychological concerns. I am by nature a data driven person. Everyone who knows me realizes that I always put people first but sometimes efforts to help individuals require objective analysis and this is true now more than ever. We cannot draw conclusions until we have all of the information that we need. We should not make life threatening decisions without considering all of the pros and cons. Most importantly we need to understand the concerns of all the stakeholders. Rushing forward one way or another may lead to more dire consequences so it is in our best interests to be rational rather than emotional.

Inside my personal memory from our traveling days lies a kind of moral. Each of us indeed feels the brunt of negative emotions when things go awry but in the end the hero of the story is the guy who gases up the car, brings food to everyone and then after eating calls ahead to the next town to find a campsite where we might rest and decide on the next moves. This is exactly how my story reached a happy conclusion. The bickering between me and my daughters was an understandable outcome, but it was Mike with his steadfastness and calm who saved the day.

For as long as I can remember that same Mike has always counseled us to “stick with our carefully thought out plans.” That sage advice has worked out well for our family time and again and it has only been when we deviate that problems have occurred. Perhaps it would be wise for our country to consider the merits of staying the course of rational and data driven decisions even when the road gets a bit rough. If we do this properly and together we will be all the better for our resolve.

Politely Inviting More Caring Disagreement

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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Some things that I see and hear both embarrass me and make me feel quite sad. For example, I understand how eager many people are to return to work or a normal routine in the time of pandemic. I am fully aware that some are desperately wondering what they are going to do if this nightmare lasts much longer. They have lost their jobs or perhaps are hourly wage earners who have been unable to work for weeks. It has to be a terrible situation in which to find oneself. Nonetheless when I see a group of protesters in Michigan carrying guns and waving Confederate flags in an attempt to get the governor there to lift the restrictions on their lives I can’t help but wonder what guns and flags have to do with making a valid argument. In fact, such things only tend to make most of us turn away in disgust.

I believe without reservation that everyone has a right to an opinion and even to protest certain decisions. That being said I find it totally inappropriate to bring guns and flags that should be relegated to old history to a protest. The arguments for a particular point of view should be articulated with supporting facts, not insults. Why turn an important discussion into a school yard brawl?

We have a very young woman in our area who was recently elected to the position of Harris County Judge. I was a bit shocked at this development because I was a big fan of the incumbent, Ed Emmett. I believe that he always did a great job, most especially during the dark days of hurricane Harvey. It seemed a bit unfair to unseat him after he had been such a strong presence in a number of disastrous situations. Nonetheless, the election was fair and the voters had spoken. The new Harris County Judge is Lina Hidalgo is a somewhat inexperienced woman in her twenties who initially worried me, but I have changed my tune.

I don’t agree with everything that Judge Hidalgo does or says. In fact I rarely agree with everything that any politician does or says, but in this time of Covid-19 I have changed my opinion of her. I have been greatly impressed by her dedication and compassion. She has worked tirelessly in a stress filled environment and somehow manages to calmly come back day after day to support the people of the Houston area. Her pronouncements are always beautifully worded and based on the most recent information available to her. In spite of her good intentions I hear people bashing her facility with the English language, which is actually quite wonderful, and they question every decision that she makes.

It would not bother me at all if those with differing ideas were to voice their concerns rationally and respectfully but instead they hurl insults that sometimes devolve into racist and ageist stereotyping. I see no place for ugliness in a time when we are all reeling from the events that surround us. Our goal should only be to work together to do whatever it takes to eliminate this scourge from the face of the earth. Making our arguments political or offensive only averts our focus from finding our way out of this situation. Arguing as though we are children is of no substantive help. 

It has become popular of late to be brash and to behave like a bully to win a debate. For some reason there are many who see such boorish behavior as strength. I see it as a smokescreen to hide a lack of factual information and an inability to pose a persuasive point of view. People who are void of logic and carefully researched data usually don’t have to use meaningless rhetorical devices nor do they have to put down people based on xenophobia.

The most intelligent, knowledgeable and truthful people that I know have told me that Covid -19 poses more questions than answers right now. Nobody is certain about anything related to this virus. It will only be after a careful analysis and a certain amount of time that we will have a better idea of what will actually work best to combat this pandemic. In the meantime there are a number of cautionary practices that may help to stem the tide of contagion. We will have to wait and see what happens in the future. Meanwhile those who are guiding us  are using the best guesses as to what will work. We have to be patient with them as well as each other as we navigate our way to the other side, and there will eventually be another side.

This is America, land of the free, but if we are wise we will avoid abusive language when we strongly disagree. We will not imply threats with guns or flags of civil unrest. We will be certain that our comments reflect a loving concern for all. Nobody is immune from the horrible changes and pain that Covid-19 has wrought on the world. Each of us worries about the future. Let’s at least try to do so with a bit of love, politely inviting more caring disagreement.

Living From Day to Day

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

beautiful-sunset-sky-with-birds-royalty-free-image-865856136-1547059564Regardless of what may be happening with respect to the rest of the population I won’t be leaving my home to resume my normal activities anytime soon. My cautionary tendencies are screaming at me to take a wait and see approach to attempts to restart my routines once again. In spite of my own feeling that I am not one of the vulnerable ones despite my age, I happen to live with someone who has heart disease and I love him enough to make a few sacrifices to keep him safe. Besides, I have no assurances that my body would respond well to an infection of Covid-19. I may be kidding myself in thinking that I am made of steel.

Years ago my husband, my mother-in-law, and I came down with hepatitis A. They sailed through a relatively mild two week case while I spent three months sapped by the illness with my doctors wondering if I would ever become well again. I did finally overcome the infection but I spent over twelve weeks in quarantine, only leaving my home to visit my doctors. It took me many more weeks to regain my energy.

I suppose that my point is that I am not ready to take any unnecessary risks so I will continue staying home until it is very clear that the danger has passed. In the meantime I know how to keep myself busy but I will surely miss my encounters with people. I know that my writing has become a bit boring. I tend to find my inspiration by being part of the world at large. For now I am limited to watching my neighbors from my front room window and checking the pulse of humanity from posts on Facebook and news stories from journalists who don’t necessarily share my views. My borders have become smaller and smaller but I feel guilty to complain because my “prison” is filled with luxury.

Last year around this time I was in London. Perhaps the most fascinating place that I visited was the London Tower, home of Willam the Conqueror and countless monarchs which eventually became better known as a place of imprisonment and execution. I walked through cold stoney rooms where people had spent years languishing in isolation as criminals. They left intricately carved graffiti on the walls that speak of their frustration even centuries later. My temporary time of being shut off from society does not hold a candle to what they must have endured so I know that one way or another I will manage to get through this.

My head is filled with so many questions and concerns that it’s sometimes difficult for me to string words together in a coherent sentence. I am a thinker by nature but I have to be careful not to let my thoughts take me too far down a rabbit hole. I’d be much better off doing something constructive like Sir Isaac Newton who invented Calculus after he was sent home from Cambridge during a plague. I doubt that I will ever be quite that brilliant but it inspires me to use my time constructively rather than dwelling on possibilities that may or may not unfold. Perhaps I may use this time to relearn Calculus since I haven’t done anything in that realm since I was eighteen years old. I might even end up with a healthier mind.

It’s not as though I am incommunicado. I still speak with family and friends. Zoom, FaceTime, and Skype have been godsends in keeping me linked with people. I send texts and voice my feelings on Facebook. I read voraciously. The world is literally at my fingertips in one form or another. My worst days stuck inside are indeed mostly pleasant.

I found a list of books about plagues on the BBC website. I bookmarked the article that outlined the various volumes. It might be fun to take a look at some of them. I read The Plague by Albert Camus when I was in high school and recall being fascinated by it. Maybe it’s time to read it from the perspective of someone who is older, wiser, and has seen the actual ravages that a plague can inflict on the world. Maybe I can even set my mind to writing my own historical fiction book or story about Covid-19.

I sometimes wonder when I will feel safe enough to reintegrate with the life outside my home. The doctors in my family urge me not to be in a hurry to demonstrate my courage. They speak of their own worries for themselves and their children. They seem to believe that our dangers are far from being over. They are unwilling to suggest a time when it might be totally safe for me to emerge from my cocoon so I will just take things one day at a time, one week at a time, one month at a time without trying to gaze too far into the future and hopefully without letting my very vivid imagination get away from me.

The Spanish flu pandemic of 1918 was horrific. Writer Katherine Porter lived through that terrifying experience and later wrote a semi-autobiographical piece about a young woman who survived the epidemic. During an interview not long before Ms. Porter died she revealed that of all the tragic events of the twentieth century it was the 1918 influenza outbreak that most affected her. In fact she spoke of never having been able to totally get over the horror of what she saw during that time.

We are living history even from inside our homes. The children of the future will want to know what we did and what we saw. There is something both exciting and terrifying at one and the same time. My only hope is that however each of us chooses to react to the situation we will do so with the intention of making it a bit easier for everyone else. For me that means staying put for a bit more time. 

A Time For Healing

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

It’s far too soon to speak of the Covid-19 pandemic being over. It’s doubtful that we will be able to flip a switch and go back to the normal, at least for a time. There will be a wariness in the air until there are no longer daily outbreaks of the disease and a trustworthy vaccine is available to everyone. Still, we are becoming more and more anxious for that day to come because at heart we enjoy being part of a community. It is in our natures to be productive as well, to have purpose in our lives.

We’ve spent time away from the ebb and flow of the world at large. Our streets have been quieter along with our daily routines. We have had time to think, to meditate, to consider what kind of changes we might want to see in the new normal that will emerge. In some ways we no longer wish to return to the status quo as it once was because in our days of isolation we have realized new possibilities. Our worldwide distancing has in an ironic twist made us somehow feel closer. The individual who dies in Italy is as important to us as the grandfather who does not make it in our hometown.

We have witnessed a simplification in our lives, reminding ourselves of what and who is actually essential. The skies are clearer all over the world and so are our priorities and obligations to share our lives with others. As we enjoy our own blessings we realize how many people it took to make them happen. We may be in a cocoon of safety right now but we survive so pleasantly only because an army of people have worked diligently to keep the supply chain of goods and services running.

We look to our medical community for answers and comfort in time of need and see the immense sacrifices that have always been part of their work. We struggle to keep our children learning and realize the creative and caring presence that teachers have have been even while we often criticized their efforts. That onion or that loaf of bread are suddenly precious commodities brought to us with the backbreaking labor of migrant workers, people that we have sometimes derided in the past. We look to the wonders of technology to keep us connected and pray for the genius of our scientists and engineers to bring us out of this crisis.

We must surely be humbled by this pandemic which has both upended our way of life and demonstrated the amazing human spirit. Heroes that we once thought to be ordinary have emerged with powers more wonderful than Superman. That nurse who dons her battle gear day after day to administer to the dying deserves a Medal of Honor. The drivers who bring food and supplies to vulnerable shut-ins are providing an immeasurable service. The neighbors who look after one another are the very foundation of who we are as people.

We have learned to enjoy simple things. We realize that we do not need as much as we may have thought. The sound of a neighbor playing the violin is lovely enough to make our day. The birds that congregate in our trees are as entertaining as an evening spent on the town. The meals prepared at home are tastier than those at a five star restaurant. Maybe we don’t really need that extra pair of shoes or a new pair of earrings. Instead we might see who around us is struggling and help them to weather this storm.

When we speak of making America great I suspect that we now realize that it will require an acknowledgement that we are indeed members of a global community. A tiny virus has shown us that we cannot escape the fact that when a butterfly flaps its wings in Africa we are all somehow affected. This pandemic was not the fault of any one nation but we are all reeling from it.

Our new big idea should be to look around and see who or what needs help. We must look for ways to use our resources and our privileges more wisely and more universally. We need to consider our young adults who will be inheriting a world greatly changed. We must share our wisdom and work together to overcome the forces of human weaknesses like greed. We also must accept the reality that we are in a symbiotic relationship with the environment and everything we do affects the health of the earth. We humans are not the only ones who are sick, so is nature. It’s time we labor in tandem with our lovely planet.

I hope that we do not soon forget the lessons we have learned in our urgency to open up business as usual. We must be mindful of each other and what is truly important. If we just go back to our closed mindedness and most current tendencies of endless disagreements we will have missed an opportunity to not just recover physically but emotionally and spiritually as well. Now is the time for healing.