Category: Blog

Seeing the Unseen

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment
person cleaning flush toilet
Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

The Netflix movie Roma is the quiet story of a young housekeeper and nanny living in nineteen seventies Mexico City. In an artistic masterpiece we watch her devoting every day to the service of the wealthy people for whom she works in a world in which she seems almost invisible and voiceless, unable to exert any control over the trajectory of her life. Nonetheless her beauty and strength illuminates the dreariness and uncertainty of the lives of the family that she serves even as she is all too often taken for granted. Roma is a triumph in its ability to portray the harshness of life for those who toil under the yoke of barriers created by the often immutable restrictions of class, but it also demonstrates the immutable importance of seemingly invisible individuals who work on the periphery of society.

The movie touched my heart and my mind in deeply moving ways and caused me to think of how many souls have journeyed through life almost without notice due to their status in the socio-economic pecking order. Their desperation is quiet and even misunderstood, while their dedication is under appreciated, and yet they sometimes demonstrate more character than those for whom they toil. Like all humans they have dreams that all too often go unfulfilled leaving them faceless in a crowd that wrongly defines them. They lose their distinct complexities in favor of generalizations, if they are even noticed at all.

My paternal grandfather somehow escaped even the notice of a census taker until he was well into his forties. The story of his early life is a blank slate making it seem as though he simply appeared from nowhere one day, a kind of cipher left to his own resources due to circumstances beyond his control. My maternal grandfather spent over thirty years traveling to a thankless job of cleaning the blood and entrails from the floor of a meat packing plant. I wonder if anyone ever realized that he was a very bright man who spent a portion of his weekly salary purchasing books that he read each evening after a day of work that left his legs and back aching, or was he simply the guy who picked up the messes that others left behind?

I think of the mother of one of my students who dropped him off at the school each morning wearing her McDonald’s uniform, a detail that embarrassed the son enough that he tried to deny that he was related to her. Then there was the yard man who drove through the carpool line pulling the trailer holding the tools of his trade and the source of income for his family. His son proudly boasted that his father was more than just someone who cut grass. According to the boy his father was an artist and a brilliant businessman. I wonder how many of us teachers with our college educations somehow felt a bit of superiority over these industrious souls. Were we guilty of chiding our students with threats that they might one day be reduced to menial jobs if they did not study? I heard such taunts quite often, comments meant to spur determination that may have unwittingly insulted the efforts of our students’ parents.

I recall the stories from my pupils of mothers and fathers who worked as many as three jobs within a single day. These souls existed on less than six hours of sleep and tortured their bodies with physical labors that left them scarred and broken. They set their pain aside for the sake of their families only to all too often be viewed by society as lazy folk who had done nothing with their lives. I wonder how many of them were thought to be little more than faceless bodies in an uneducated and unworthy mob. Were people suspicious of them, unwilling to see them as the hard workers that they were?

All too often we fail to really see the people who do not seem to be like ourselves. It does not occur to us that something as simple as where one is born may have incredible consequences in determining the course of life. We unwittingly stereotype people without truly knowing who they are. Like the family employing the young servant in Roma we see them in a kind of caricature when the truth is so much deeper. We create invisible, but powerful, barriers between ourselves. The man who mows our lawn or the woman who cleans our home is a provider of a service, not someone to be thought of as an equal, and yet the reality is that we are far more like our caretakers than we choose to accept. We are dependent on each other, and yet we rarely acknowledge the bonds that we share.  Our humanity should unite us, but the artificial structures upon which we build our societies often drive us apart.

Every single person is a unique gift to our world. Perhaps if we were to have a better understanding of that idea many of the problems that we face might be resolved. It is difficult to unravel the complexities of living, but we might begin with one person at a time. If we consciously strive to appreciate and acknowledge everyone with whom we interact we might begin to create more unity and understanding. Who knows where such a process might ultimately lead when we attempt to see the unseen?

A Model of Love and Goodness

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Linda and Bill

I grew up in a neighborhood that was a kind of village where everyone knew everyone else. Many of us attended the same churches and schools and even shopped at the same stores. Our childhoods were spent in an innocent kind of time and place where children felt free to roam from one end of the area to another under the watchful eyes of adults who discretely insured our safety. It was a different kind of era devoid of electronic devices, hundreds of television channels, cell phones and video games. Our moms usually stayed home to care for their families unless they, like mine, were the heads of the households or they were more progressive for the times. Marriages were for the long term and divorce was somewhat rare, at least in our little neck of the woods. If there were problems we kids rarely heard of them. We were somewhat isolated from the troubles of the world, and didn’t have to face many of them until we were old enough and mature enough to handle them. It was a great way to grow up, and many of our childhood friendships continue many decades later.

As a young girl I was in awe of Linda Daigle, a beautiful, bright and amazingly sweet and friendly person. She was a model how to be for me, and so I observed her from afar so that I might become more like her. I had little idea that one day we would become the best of friends, but I suppose that my admiration of her made that inevitable.

While we were still in high school Linda began dating another resident of our tightly knit community, Bill Scheffler. Bill was a fun loving, cute guy who lived across the street from our school and our church. I thought that Linda and Bill were quite sweet together, but young love often changes and I did not expect their romance to continue. In that regard I was so very wrong.

After high school Bill entered the army and was stationed in Germany. Linda attended the University of Houston dreaming of being reunited with Bill again. By that time they had exchanged promises of love and devotion. In spite of Bill’s departure their romance was stronger than ever, a bond not to be undone even by distance.

By a kind of accident Linda and I began to meet with each other in the mornings at the university where she spoke of her feelings for Bill and the plans they had made. She was focused on building a life with him, and I was so impressed with how thoughtfully the two of them had created a long term goal of togetherness. From those early morning chats Linda and I became friends which was thrilling to me. I felt so fortunate to be in her confidence and as we grew closer I realized that she was even more remarkable than I had ever realized.

Fifty years ago Linda and Bill sealed their vows to one another with a beautiful wedding at Mt. Carmel Catholic Church, the very place where we had grown up together. After their marriage they went to live in Germany while Bill completed his tour of duty. It was an exciting time for them that allowed them to travel all over Europe and to grow even closer to one another. Linda sent reports of their adventures in letters and Christmas greetings that I devoured with enthusiasm.

By then I too had married and our paths were following a kind of parallel route that was joyful and filled with newness as we both moved from the shelter of our old neighborhood into the bigger world. To my delight it was not long Linda and Bill had returned to Houston and we began to share fun times as couples. Then came our children, two boys for her and two girls for me. Our first homes were within minutes of one another and so we got together more and more often, literally growing up together and as our children were doing the same thing.

As with any husband and wife, Linda and Bill had both good times and bad. They worked hard and for a time Bill was juggling a full time job with attending college. Fairly early in their marriage both of Bill’s parents became seriously ill and he became their caretaker until they died. It was sometimes a struggle for them to keep their wits under such extreme pressures, but the two of them managed to overcome each challenge that came their way.

They raised their two boys with the same kind of love and values that had always guided them. Bill became successful in his work life and Linda was known everywhere as a woman who got things done and on whom everyone might depend. They were friendly and loving and my own husband Mike and I were so happy to be part of their circle of life. We visited often, shared birthdays and celebrations, cheered our favorite Houston Cougar teams to victories. Each Christmas we gathered for an ornament exchange between our children and a sharing of gifts with each other. Our friendship began to feel more like family as the years came and went.

For a time Linda and Bill moved to California and we missed them far more than we ever admitted to them. It was yet another adventure for them and they made the most of their time together in a different kind of world. It was no surprise to me that they quickly made new friends and brought their joy for living to their new home.

I have to admit that I was overjoyed when Linda and Bill announced that they were returning to Houston. We resurrected our Christmas time celebration and have continued it to this very day. We watched our children marrying and beginning their own families. We grew older and started sharing more and more conversations about the aches and pains. We comforted each other as our parents aged and died. Life continued at its relentless pace and so did the love that Linda and Bill had for each other that had begun so long ago.

These days Linda and Bill are still having so much fun together. They regularly attend Houston Astro’s games and support the Houston Cougars in football and basketball. They travel to Dallas to visit with their son and granddaughter and show up for all of their grandson’s baseball games in Magnolia. The role of grandparents and lovers suits them well and goes hand in hand with their devotion to each other.

Tonight we will celebrate the beautiful love story of two people who understood from the beginning that they shared something real and special and rare. Love has been the unshakeable bond that has guided their time together and brought them a kind of joy for which we humans yearn. They are still models for me of how to enjoy life to its fullest, and I feel so blessed to have had a very small role in their history which I suspect will continue for many more years to come.

Congratulations, Linda and Bill! You are indeed a remarkable couple that has touched so many hearts with your goodness. May you know how much we love you for being so selfless and welcoming. You are the kind of couple that we all strive to be.

All That Ever Really Matters

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment
accuracy afternoon alarm clock analogue
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

So here we are at the last Friday in 2018, and once again I find myself wondering where the year went. It’s been a good one for me with no devastating floods in my backyard, no horrific surprises. It was mostly quiet as Mike and I worked hard to become healthier after his stroke scare in 2017. We found ourselves feeling thankful for small blessings like waking up in the morning and sharing time with family and friends. The year ended with a bang starting with Mike’s birthday in September, our fiftieth anniversary in October, and my seventieth birthday in November. We hit some milestones that we might never have imagined in our long ago youth.

We finally found enough courage to travel again. A trip to Arkansas with dear friends Franz and Monica was glorious. We laughed and talked and saw so much beauty. No doubt we ate a bit too much and gained some pounds that we will have to carve away in the coming year. Mostly we created some new and beautiful memories with people who mean so much to us.

In November we headed to Colorado for some winter time adventure and a wedding. It was a bitter sweet time as we watched a beautiful young couple begin their own life together, and learned of the death of a dear friend of my brother and sister-in-law who had to abruptly leave us to return home for the funeral. Nonetheless we finished our mini-vacation in the quiet splendor of the mountains and the little towns that surround them. I suppose that we savored the moments more than we might have because of the reminder of how fragile life is.

December took us to Austin to watch over two wonderful young men whose parents went on a business trip. They were so polite and well behaved that we actually had very little to do other than make certain that they arrived on time to the practices that they needed to attend. We went to see one of the latest of the gazillion Rocky movies with them, and I thought of how different life is with boys rather than girls. All in all we felt honored to be entrusted with their care.

Most recently Mike and I became Eucharistic Ministers at our church. The first time that we held chalices with the blood of Christ and offered the sacred wine to our fellow parishioners was moving beyond anything I had ever imagined. I was filled with a sense of awe for God’s goodness in our lives and for the blessedness of our humanity.

As the new year beckons there is trouble on the horizon that worries us. A very good friend, who also happens to be our daughter’s father-in-law, is very sick and reaching the end of his days. He is a bright light who will be sorely missed by all who know him. An aunt is struggling with major health problems and we are quite concerned about her. She is one of the truly good people on this earth and we hope and pray that she will be granted more time with us. Another long time friend suffered a terrible fall and was hospitalized before Christmas. Now she faces a long journey in physical therapy. They are all vivid reminders to us that life is filled with surprises that affect us when we least expect them. We must take care of ourselves and enjoy each moment while we can.

It doesn’t take as much to make me happy as it once did. I need little and treasure the blessings that I have. I’m not much into resolutions anymore, because I have learned all too well that changes often come suddenly. I’d like to think that Mike and I will get to make that trip to London that we have planned, and I intend to keep doing whatever I can to stay as healthy and fit as my seventy year old body will allow. I’ll take one day at a time and do my best to make the most of whatever happens. Mostly I want to spend more and more time with friends and family because it is never a good idea to take anyone for granted.

As I approach my seventy first year of living on this planet I know that I have seen both wondrous and horrific things. Life is a mix of ups and downs, good times and bad, life and death. There is a kind of inevitability of the seasons of our lives. The one thing over which we have control is how we respond to each phase. I hope and pray that no matter what happens I will have learned from the remarkable people who have passed my way by bearing both my joys and my burdens with dignity and optimism. So far the sun has never failed to rise on each of my days regardless of what I had to face with the new dawn. The days and the weeks and the months have led me to celebrations and moments of sorrow just as they have done for all the generations throughout history. The routines of living come and go, testing our mettle and sometimes bringing us the fruition of dreams.

So as the new year beckons I expect both little and much. There are certainties about the future and great possibilities in the unknown. That is the stuff of life that makes us who we are. Still, if I were to be granted one single wish it would be that in the year of 2019 we might become a kinder, more just, more understanding and peaceful world. I suspect that all across the globe people have grown weary of the anger and hatred that seems to be festering in dark corners. May the new year be one filled with tangible signs that we are turning a corner and doing a better job of loving unconditionally. That seems to me to be all that ever really matters.

They Shall Not Grow Old

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

They Shall Not

For the Fallen

BY LAURENCE BINYON

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, 

England mourns for her dead across the sea. 

Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit, 

Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal 

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres, 

There is music in the midst of desolation 

And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young, 

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow. 

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted; 

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: 

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. 

At the going down of the sun and in the morning 

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; 

They sit no more at familiar tables of home; 

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time; 

They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound, 

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight, 

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known 

As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, 

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain; 

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, 

To the end, to the end, they remain.

Source: The London Times (1914)

Peter Jackson, perhaps best known for his brilliant work on The Lord of the Rings, has produced a stunning documentary using remastered film from World War I. He was given privy to hundreds and hundreds of hours of old films from that era along with a mandate to create something stunning, different. His final product, They Young Shall Not Grow Old, is a moving homage to the young men who so gallantly volunteered to fight in a war that they so little understood. It boldly demonstrates their bravery and their innocence in heartbreaking scenes that remind us of the treasures that are lost when we send our youth off to war.

Jackson had to first create a unified story from the millions of images that he found in the archives of the Imperial War Museum. He chose to focus on the stories from British men who had told of their personal experiences during World War I in an oral history project created in the nineteen sixties. Using only their voices and actual footage from the time of the war Jackson paints a portrait of bravery and fear as we follow the young men who began as naive innocents in support of their country only to learn how horrific battle can actually be.

Jackson’s challenge was to make the old footage more modern and easy to watch. Most of the film was in terrible shape, almost unusable in many instances. It was too dark or too light, blotchy and prone to appear jumpy. Using modern techniques Jackson and his team were able to adjust the speed, add appropriate colors and even create sound. The result was a stunning portrait of real individuals who brought the feelings associated with that war to life.

Jackson’s own grandfather participated in World War I and so his film was a labor of love for a man who in many ways became broken as a result of his participation in that awful chapter of history. The documentary demonstrates the humanity of the ordeal in the faces and voices of real people. Many of the men appear to be barely within reach of adulthood and yet they were to endure unbelievable horror in days spent in the trenches and the battles. Jackson pictures one group staring at the camera with obvious fear in their eyes and later notes that virtually all of them would die. It would be the last image of them alive.

Jackson brilliantly brings both the glory and the brutal reality of war to life in a way that no amount of acting is able to do. It is a stunning feat that will not soon leave my mind. Sadly the documentary will only be shown twice in December, at least at this point in time. I believe that it is such an important work that it will eventually become available to a wider audience. It is a film that every one of us should view.

The Universe Awaits

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

DannyI truly love all of the young men and women who were once my students. Still, now and again there are those who stand out just a bit, making me certain that they will have a glorious life ahead. One of those is Danny Martinez. I have written about Danny in previous blogs. His faith is a beautiful thing to witness and whenever I need a special prayer I always make certain that Danny is on my prayer chain. His earnest belief in the power of God is quite special. He likes to remind me that I should already know that God is caring for me, and in every case I find his words to be true.

Danny is also a person filled with optimism and determination, a man who is not willing to give up no matter how difficult things become. It has been said that grit, or the willingness to persist, is one of the most important adult qualities. If that is so, and I believe it is, Danny will go far in life.

Danny is the first to tell the stories of the time in which he made a dramatic change in his life. He was only in the fifth grade but already having scrapes with the law. He was going nowhere fast, and somehow he peered into a dreary future and decided that he needed to become a better person. He saw education as the pathway to the kind of existence that he wanted. He yearned to be an engineer and maybe even to one day be selected for a job at NASA so that he might have a shot at being an astronaut. In pursuit of that goal he buckled down and became the kind of student that every teacher dreams of educating. By the end of his high school years he was admired by his classmates and all of his teachers, earning him the highest honor that the faculty give to one senior each year.

Danny headed to the University of Texas Permian Basin for college. His struggles continued. His family’s car broke down on the way to the campus and lacking the money to stay in a motel his loved ones slept inside their car. Danny had few opportunities to travel home because the cost of doing so was too much. He might have complained about his fate, but in characteristic fashion he looked on the bright side of things and soldiered on without mentioning his travails. His optimism and sense of purpose impressed those he met, and so he made many friends at the university and caught the eye of his professors as well.

At one point Danny finally managed to get an automobile to drive back and forth but sadly had a very serious wreck that might have severely injured him save for what appeared to be a miracle. Danny was certain that God had a plan for him and so he was not discouraged even when it took him longer than he had anticipated to earn his degree. He kept working hard and believing that God’s grace would pull him through. In the process he became beloved on campus and just last year was named the outstanding student. Everyone saw his indomitable spirit just as we had when he was back in high school.

Danny graduated this month and I suspect that he is only at the beginning of what will surely be an incredible future. Danny is not one to give up, nor is he likely to forget his humble beginnings and all of the people who have encouraged and supported him along the way. He already knows that God is by his side, and he proclaims the joy that his relationship with the Father has brought him.

Danny grew up in the north side of Houston, in a place where there are many temptations to take the easy way out. He chose instead to put in all of the effort he needed to demonstrate his heart and his abilities. Not once did he make any excuses, even when times became tough. He simply carried on taking one day at a time, convinced that he would be able to achieve a life that had at one time seemed almost impossible when he spoke of it to those who would listen. In the process Danny has influenced members of his family and friends to make the kind of changes that he has. He is not only propelling himself forward, but also bringing others with him. He is indeed an exquisitely beautiful soul.

I am bursting with pride over Danny’s accomplishments. I still recall the first time I met him when he was a freshman in my second period Algebra I class. He was so welcoming, and he encouraged the other students to behave and take advantage of the opportunity to learn. Even then he was extraordinary,

I know that my friendship with Danny will continue and I look forward to watching him navigate adult life with the same aplomb that he has always shown. “Congratulations, Danny Martinez. The universe is waiting for you, and we know that your impact will be as incredible as you are.”