Category: Commentary

I am from the generation that first grew up with television. In the early days everything was black and white, literally. The shows rarely ran for more than thirty minutes and there were only three channels until PBS came along. At a certain time each night each station played the national anthem and went off the air until morning. 

I spent many evenings watching comedy shows with my father and Captain Kangaroo each morning after he went to work. After he died my mother restricted the number of hours that my brothers and I were allowed to spend in front of the television. The only time when we got away with total freedom was on Saturday mornings when we tuned in to our favorite kid shows that aired until around noon. Since our mother often slept in a bit on the weekend we took full advantage of being able to watch Fury, Sky King, My Friend Flicka and a host of other programming. 

As we grew older our mother was a tiny bit more permissive in expanding our free time in front of what became known as “the boob tube.” We began to look forward to Bonanza each week and even imagined what it must have been like to see that show in living color for the first time. It would be many more years until I was actually treated to the luxury of watching my favorite shows in anything other than black and white and shades of grey. 

After I got married my husband and I were both busy continuing our college educations so our television was more of a piece of furniture than a center for entertainment. Eventually we got more settled and turned our attention to watching reruns of Star Trek late in the evening when my husband came home from a nightshift at the bank where he worked. I still recall those late night viewings with utter delight. 

When I was still in the hospital after my second daughter was born I remember watching Sesame Street just an hour or so after she entered the world. After that PBS became the gold standard for viewing in our home. My little girls grew up on the programing for children on that local public station. I often watched the shows with them and realized how delightful they were and how much all of us learned from them. My husband and I found ourselves spending more and more of our own viewing time on PBS as well enjoying Masterpiece Theater and other wonderful offerings that seemed to be a cut above the less elegant programing on the three big stations. 

That is not to say that we did not find joy from ABC, NBC, and CBS. We had our favorites on each channel and we got our local news from those stations. Soon enough we installed cable television and then went to streaming services. Our television screen grew in size with a sound system worthy of a movie theater. The whole world seemed to be at our fingertips and yet we found ourselves reverting back to PBS again and again. I once remarked that if we were forced to choose only one outlet to watch forevermore I would pick PBS without hesitation. 

I can’t imagine how anyone considers PBS to be too liberal or biased. They simply offer a wide variety of programming that is generally of higher quality than much of what is available on other channels. As for the news hour, there is no doubt in my mind that it is more fair and balanced than any other source. It is old school in that it does more reporting of facts than analyzing what is right and what is wrong. Even the editorial discussions are presented by people representing both liberal and conservative thinking. I have always seen the Public Broadcasting System as one of the best investments of our tax payer dollars but I also understood that they need more than government money to insure the quality of their programming so I have donated to the fundraising efforts for many years. 

I am a late comer to NPR radio. I mostly listened to music for most of my adult life but my tastes began to change a bit as I grew older. In the city where I live the airwaves on the radio are filled with conservative talk radio that is so one sided that it is annoying. There are also dozens of Christian radio stations and those that offer programing and music for virtually every ethnic group . I was looking for a more information oriented channel when I stumbled upon NPR. I haven’t changed stations since I found it. Like PBS it is filled with programming that keeps me up to date with what is happening locally and on the state level in Texas. On the national level I get to hear incredible offerings like The Moth where people tell their stories and Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me which is a competition featuring the week’s news with a comic bent. I’ve learned how to cook and how to care for my car on NPR. It is a wonderful way to learn about music and musicians and to stay abreast to scientific inventiveness. 

I live in the fourth largest city in the United States so I hope that there will be enough of us supporting PBS and NPR to keep them going. I fear that we will soon be subjected to lots of advertisements and the kind of financial pressures that water down the freedom and honesty of other media sites. I am both saddened and angry that our Congressional representatives did not have enough foresight to keep these national treasures going and growing for now and the future.

I suspect that those who voted against funding for them have rarely if ever watched them. If they had taken to the time to see for themselves they would know that there is nothing suspect about these wonderful outlets. In fact, they are exactly the kind of responsible and educational sites that we should be wanting more and more. I’m ready to open my pocketbook to save these wonderful institutions that have been presenting quality programming for as long as I can remember. They are truely wonderful if we can keep them. 

Your feelings will fluctuate, Your well being will fluctuate Your performance will fluctuate. Your worth should not.

I saw this comment on Facebook and it made me think about the times that I have seen people of great courage dealing with horrific tragedies without the kind of emotional support that they should have received. All too often we expect people going through difficult experiences to be automatons when it comes to their everyday lives and their jobs. We don’t always give them the assistance and exceptions that they may actually need. 

I once worked with a woman who had breast cancer. She was so devoted to her students that she scheduled her treatments after the school day so that she would not have to send substitutes into her classroom. Of course she was not as energetic as she had always been but she was doing her very best to complete all of her duties. Sometimes she gave her students quiet work to do so that she might rest behind her desk and there were moments when she took longer than normal to grade their work because she came home from her treatments feeling nauseated and exhausted. Still, most of us marveled at her courage, optimism and determination to be with her students in spite of the challenging circumstances. 

Sadly the principal did not hold our view of this teacher. Instead she criticized her efforts and even threatened her with a bad evaluation if she continued to demonstrate lethargy. Ironically the administrator insisted that an active substitute would be a better alternative than a sickly teacher. Of course those of us on the faculty were stunned to hear about the teacher’s treatment by our boss. Somehow the principal had set aside the worth of a fellow human and focused instead the performance that she viewed as lacking. The administrator was blind to the incredible dedication and efforts of the teacher, seeing only superficial flaws that did little to blemish the herculean efforts that the educator was making. 

There will be times when each of us do not show our best selves. If we are worried about a loved one or carrying the pains of ill health we tend to be less like ourselves. It does not mean that we are slouching or trying to get by with shirking our responsibilities. It is only a sign that our challenges are bearing down on us and possibly even becoming overbearing. In such moments we would do well to find ways to support the person who is struggling. 

In the best job situations that I had everyone worked together. If someone was facing an emotional crisis the entire faculty found ways to ease the pressures of the job that the person had to do. We became available to step in and teach in tandem or even to watch the students while the teacher took a break. We showed the students how to be helpful as well. It was a community effort that paid off with a work environment that was forgiving and loving. It took into account the incredible worth of each person rather than constantly ranking and comparing us. 

I have known good people who donated some of their sick leave to other employees who were undergoing long term medical care. I have watched groups make plans to send food to the homes of ailing fellow workers. I have even participated in Saturday afternoon house cleaning for fellow teachers who were temporarily bed bound. Our gestures were small and took little effort on the part of each of us but they made a huge difference to the people who found themselves in precarious situations that might otherwise have left them feeling as though nobody really cared about what was happening to them. 

Our society is presently all too focused on stringent rules, bottom lines, scores and ratings. Employees are not always seen as humans but as numbers on balance sheets. We have people working multiple jobs and still struggling to pay for the basics of living. The imbalance of how we treat and value each other is growing ever more impersonal. We have all too often forgotten the importance of first seeing the worth of every single person. We speak of brilliance and power and wealth as things to pursue for a good life when in fact it is in working together and ensuring that everyone is okay that we are our best and feel our best. 

It is all too true that our feelings will fluctuate. We may be on top of the world one day and living in anguish another. Life has a way of sending unexpected tragedies our way. Just so, our well being will also fluctuate. A terrible storm may flood our home or a visit to a doctor may reveal a terrible illness. When such things happen to us it is only human that our performance will also fluctuate. We all hope that when we are not ourselves there will still be those who understand that our value has not changed and they will help us through our most horrific moments with kindness and love. 

The children are ours, every single one of them all over the globe…James Baldwin

My entire life has been filled with children. Before I went to work as a teacher I had two daughters of my own and watched the five youngsters of others inside my home while their mothers took care of jobs and other business. While juggling classes at the University of Houston I landed a position as a preschool teacher that convinced me that my life’s work should be devoted to young people. After sending an editorial letter regarding some of the homilies being presented at my parish church the pastor visited my home and surprised me by agreeing with my complaints and convincing me to become a Sunday school teacher. Eventually the nuns directing the program tapped me to oversee the classes for preschoolers through the fifth grade as they exited to do community work. I somehow kept all the educational balls in my repertoire in the air while I finally obtained my degree and certification to be a teacher.

I bounced from school to school for a time, starting with an assignment at a Catholic school where I was the math teacher for all of the students in grades six through eight. I had six different classes to prepare each day but what might have been an onerous job for some became an exciting adventure that told me that I was doing what I was always meant to do. My enthusiasm for my students energized me in spite of the long hours of standing on my feet attempting to interest and challenge my charges while understanding the needs of each individual. Oh how I loved those young men and women!

More for a better income than any other reason, I next worked as a fourth grade teacher of every subject that the children needed with the exception of PE and music. I had even more preparations to make for three reading groups, social studies, science, math, art and a few other duties thrown in here and there. The students were much more diverse and economically disadvantaged than those at the private school but once again I adored them even as a little voice was telling me that I wanted to focus on the middle school aged pupils who are so often viewed as difficult. When a new opportunity arose I grabbed it in spite of the fact that I adored the principal of the elementary school and learned how to be a real teacher from her.

I enjoyed the growing pains of my middle school students with boundless joy. Somehow I got them and they got me. I taught wealthy young people from powerful families and youngsters who lived in poverty. It didn’t seem to matter whether they were altar boys or gang members, I loved them all and felt that they were part of my great big extended family.

Over the years I spent many a sleepless night worrying about my students and even when I retired there was never a day when I did not think of them. Most of them are in their thirties, forties, and fifties, now. I do my best to keep up with them, rejoice in their achievements and grieve when I hear of their difficulties. I also still teach and tutor a small group of young people a few hours each week. I no longer have the fortitude to spend eight to ten hours on my feet with little more than a few short breaks, but I miss the long days that began in the dark and rarely ended before ten at night. It was then that I knew true happiness in my vocation.

I have felt an almost spiritual devotion to the children and young adults who came my way. I did my best to nurture them, guide them, love them. I enjoyed being a Dean of Faculty and providing assistance to the teachers. I understood the enormity and importance of their tasks. I learned from them and became as close to them as I had always been to my students.

I truly believe that those children, even the more grown up ones, are ours and that we have a duty to make sure that they will be okay. There should be no strings attached to what we might do for them, no budgetary restraints that do not allow us to provide them with whatever they need to fulfill their talents and dreams. We should be focused on and dedicated to providing them with every opportunity to reach the potential that is inside each and every one of them. There is no investment that a society might make that is more wonderful than insuring that no child in ever afraid, hungry, sick, or uneducated. Every one of them is unique and longing to become the best of themselves. It matters not what language they speak, where they live, what appearance they may have. The children should always be our number one priority. We should minister to them without prejudice or avarice. If we have to sacrifice to make their lives comfortable and meaningful, so be it.

It has been a great honor to work with children over many decades. There is no job, that compares. The satisfaction that I have felt in knowing that thousands of souls are now productive and able to care for themselves and their loved ones because I played a part in educating them is immeasurable. I truly cannot understand why anyone would become stingy with the resources and care that they all need. To deny even one child anywhere in the world a childhood filled with wonder and discovery seems almost to be a sin. If we were all to focus on the children with love most problems would disappear. We cannot reserve our opportunities for only those like us. Our largess for children must be given freely and happily to all.

I have been spending my mornings accompanying my husband to radiation treatments for his cancer. The process goes rather quickly as long as the machines are working properly and he has done the work to prepare himself. It’s been a long haul from start to finish but everything has mostly gone well and so as we near the end I find myself reflecting on the many people that we have encountered all along the way.

Of course the doctors, nurses and technicians have been incredible. Even the greeter at the front of the building and the receptionist behind the desk smile with encouragement. Frankly I don’t now how all of them they stay so calm and compassionate day after day. They are definitely angels among us who deserve nothing but praise for the long hours that they dedicate to returning their many patients to good health. 

I have seen a full spectrum of individuals and their families on the same journey that has filled days, weeks and months for my husband and me. We each have a role in the recovery process and we come from many places hoping for success. I have listened to the conversations and the stories and read the faces of those just beginning the treatments as well as those joyfully ringing the bell to mark the end of the process. We quietly become like family even as we represent the full spectrum of humanity. 

I have witnessed elderly folks in wheelchairs and young people who look too healthy to be stalked by cancer. I hear conversations in Spanish and smile each day at the joyful Black woman who fills the room with hope even as she herself is enduring the treatments. There is the man who drives miles from east Texas to be with the best doctors. He entertains us with his Texas twang and stories of hunting and cooking. There are people who sit quietly and those who tell us their life stories. Nobody in the place thinks that anyone does not belong. We are equals as people all anxious for news that the cancer will be gone. We celebrate the victories and listen to the worries. We are all in the same boat and feeling fortunate to even have a boat. 

The last many weeks have made me wonder why we humans so often have a difficult time just getting along with each other. There is unity and understanding in the room where we gather five times a week for eight weeks or more. We don’t judge each other or consider anyone to be either greater or less than. Why can’t such a spirit permeate over the entire planet? Why can’t we truly welcome each other with our differences and even our warts? What makes us judgmental and angry and so competitive? Why is power and money all too often more important that just loving each other? Don’t we know that in the long run of our lives none of those things will mean nearly as much as hearing the words, “You are cured. Go forth and have a good life!”

I have lost so many people for so many reasons and I never really get over missing them. I suppose that it is that way for each of us. We think about the friends and family members who have left us to navigate life on our own. We know that not one possession that we have can ever replace the important role that each of them played in our lives. Because we know this, how can we not know that this is not unique to our nation or any nation. Humans have the same feelings whether they are from Europe or Africa or the Middle East. Our differences are superficial. We make different choices about how to live and what to believe but when the rubber meets the road we all bleed and feel frightened when someone tells us that we have a disease. We also rejoice when the purveyors of medicine make us well. We cry when life ends for someone who has been part of our lives. These things are universal, beyond language and they should serve to unite us as humans. 

Life can be difficult for everyone so why do we so often decide to make it worse for some? What in our personalities makes us immune to the feelings and tragedies of people who only appear to be different. Why don’t we want to hear their stories, share their joys, help them through their difficulties. What makes us judgmental rather than understanding? 

These are questions that have become ever more important to me during the past many weeks. Somehow I have come to see even more clearly than ever how important it is for each of us to just accept each other. It is not up to us to demand how people should be or believe. Our only purpose should be to love, an idea preached long ago by a man named Jesus who inspired a religion that has done much good in the world but sometimes ends up doing harm when we lose the central message of his teaching.

I doubt that I will ever forget this experience. It has been difficult for me but even harder for my husband and the people who have the cancers growing in their bodies. It has humbled me and made me ever more determined to embrace my fellow humans. I have seen their beauty shining forth and hope that others will as well.