Category: History

Shall We Begin?

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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There was a time when the world was a quieter place. There were fewer sounds, no cars, planes, trains, televisions, radios, telephones, complex machines. People heard each other, the calls of animals, the wind, the rustling of water. Life was stiller, slower and in most ways more difficult. The very things that so often annoy us, cause us to feel stressed and steal the silence that we often desire also make our lives easier than those of our ancestors. The conundrum that we face in the modern world is how to keep a balance between simplicity and over consumption. It is the tightrope that we walk in our pursuit of happiness and comfort.

I live in a southern climate. I might be happy to eschew using a great deal of energy in the winter because the days are mostly mild and even on an abnormally cold day a heavy coat and a pile of blankets make the chill go away. The summer presents me with a far greater challenge when temperatures linger in the mid nineties for weeks at a time. It is so hot that I take refuge in my air conditioned home and car during the middle of the day. The thought of being without the cool air is almost untenable and yet there was a time in the not so distant past when I lived through nineteen summers without air conditioning and never felt beset upon.

It was a normal and accepted way of life back then. We simply adjusted to our circumstances and carried on the way people had done for thousands of years before us. We led simpler lives that were still more modern than those that our grandparents had known. It never occurred to us that we may have been disadvantaged. We coped with what we had.

Somehow in spite of the multitude of improvements in American life our society seems to be more dissatisfied than ever. We tend to believe that we should all have more and more and more when just maybe we have reached a tipping point at which we should consider cutting back on some of the things that we do and take for granted. We often argue that each successive generation should do better than the last but what if that idea is flawed? What if our real goal should be to find ways to enjoy the best of our modern inventiveness without being so obsessed with accumulating wealth and things? Is it possible to live the good life while also being more frugal in our use of resources and capital? These are our modern day questions. Our dilemma is in finding the answers that will benefit the most people in the world, a gargantuan task at the very least.

I believe in the concept of liberty and as such I mostly disdain the idea of forcing a particular lifestyle on people. I prefer that we each decide on our own how to partake of the world’s benefits. Still I would like to encourage everyone to find their own personal ways of stepping back just a bit and considering how they might simplify and thereby save for the future. By that I mean in terms of both money and our precious resources. Small measures taken collectively often lead to great gains. Our ancestors knew this well and they pulled themselves out of a major depression and two world wars with determined effort and a great deal of patience.

When I describe the world of my youth it sounds absolutely antiquated. My family had one car, one phone, one television. Computers and cell phones were but dreams of inventive souls. Travel was by car for most people other than the wealthiest among us who had the means to fly from place to place. Eating out was a rare luxury. The books that we read mostly came from the library. I only knew one person who had a swimming pool in her backyard. The rest of us went to the city pool on hot afternoons. Air conditioning was a luxury that was only beginning to come into vogue and even then it was in the form of a unit set in a window. Homes usually had a single bathroom often shared by as many as six or seven people. Children bunked together in rooms. Most of us had two pairs of shoes, one for special occasions and the other to be worn for daily activities. We exercised by running and walking and riding our bicycles. It was a happy time and it never occurred to us that one day people would look back on how we lived and think it quaint and wonder how we were able to endure such seeming want.

The average household of old would appear to be more like a state of poverty today. We have improved things considerably but what have we lost in the process? Our desires seem almost insatiable. Our complaints would confound those who lived in another era. They would wonder at the luxuries of even an average person and ask why we still feel as though we need even more.

We argue over the state of our planet ad infinitum. Why would we risk being wrong? The simple answer is to always think about the consequences of our actions. Our golden rule should be to leave every place better than we found it. If that means recycling, planting trees, composting garbage, picking up trash, adjusting our thermostats, buying only what we really need, turning off lights, or finding our own ways of using less energy why would we complain? These are actions that our ancestors took for granted. It doesn’t matter who is wrong or right when it comes to climate change. We should all still want to be kinder to our world.

We probably will never receive the entire cake of benefits but we are certainly capable of sharing pieces of it with our fellow men and women. We will never be able to achieve perfection but surely we will find more contentment in working together just as our ancestors once did. They raised barns as a community and made certain that people experiencing hard times were cared for. My grandfather told countless stories of people coming together to insure that all members of the community were safe and secure and happy. It was understood that this was behavior expected of everyone. They had so much less than we have today but they willingly gave whatever they were able in times of need.

Sometimes it seems as though we have closed ourselves off inside our modern day castles. We have everything that we need inside and we may have anything that we want delivered to our front doors. We isolate and insulate ourselves from the problems outside our domains, often not even knowing the names of our neighbors or what challenges they are enduring. We come and go and rarely think of the difficulties that are ongoing all around us. We turn off bad news and idealize existence and quibble over issues that should have compromised solutions. We have lost our way on so many levels when we need look no farther than the examples of the past to know what to do.

Thoreau admonished us to simplify, simplify, simplify. Mother Theresa showed us how to share. Our grandparents demonstrated courage and a willingness to adapt to changing situations. Marshall rightly urged us to help our struggling European neighbors after World War II. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. taught us how to open our hearts to differences. The lessons to be learned tell us how to live without the worry and strife that exists in so many corners of our world today. If each person were to change just one way of doing things for the better perhaps we might all wake up to brighter days. It’s time to cease all of the grumbling and work together. Shall we begin?

We Don’t Have To Be Who We Are

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

dnadoublehelix2I once took a psychology class that focused on reviewing the history of learning theories. The professor pointed out that our knowledge of the brain and how it works is less complete than say what we know about the heart. This is because for most of history the brain was considered to be an almost sacred vessel, the repository of the mind and the center of spirituality. For this reason it was considered sacrilege to invade the space in which it resides, even in terms of merely discussing it.

At the end of the nineteenth century pioneers in the study of how we think began to posit theories and perform experiments. Many of these men and women were seen as societal pariahs with ghastly and ghoulish ideas. Their work was often marginalized and misunderstood. Luckily they had the courage to continue their research and build a foundation of knowledge upon which much of what we know about the brain today is based.

The brain is perhaps the most interesting aspect of our human bodies. We are still learning how it works. We have yet to become as expert at repairing malfunctions of our brains as well as we do with our other organs. We are hundreds of years behind in our understanding of how it operates, but we have indeed made great strides in unlocking so many of its secrets. Those who spend their days in research and medicine take us closer and closer to the time when we may be able to fix even the most delicate problems.

The twentieth century heralded a kind of scientific renaissance. Not only did we conquer gravity and successfully fly above the ground and into the heavens, but we increased our knowledge about our own bodies and what makes the remarkable machine that resides inside each of us operate. Part of those studies lead to questions of just how much each of us is affected by nature versus nurture.

What we have learned thus far is that each person carries a specific set of DNA that defines much of our physicality and even affects our intelligence. Once we are born with certain traits it is up to first our parents and later ourselves to determine how we will use the basic aspects of our chemical and biological makeup. We can’t change the color of our eyes unless we mask them with colored contacts, but we are able to either enhance or retard other aspects of who we are with our upbringing and the choices that we ultimately make as adults.

We know for example that we may carry a propensity for obesity but if our parents feed us healthy diets and encourage us to exercise regularly we may enter adulthood with a foundation for maintaining a lifestyle that will keep us fit. If on the other hand indulgent parents fill our bellies with sugary treats and allow us to sit in front of gaming units for hours every day it is more likely that the gene that makes us obese will take the lead. In other words we are not necessarily bound to the fate of all aspects of our genetic makeup. There are things that we have the power to control if we are willing.

As we learn more and more about our own personal DNA we have the powerful capability of improving or even overriding certain tendencies that lurk inside our bodies. If we bear a marker that tells us that we may be prone to heart disease we may start early eating a cardiac friendly diet and exercising to make that muscle that is the engine of our bodies stronger. We don’t necessarily have to be victimized by the reality that we carry signs of pending trouble. We can be proactive in preventing the very disease that threatens us.

I am fascinated that DNA is even able to determine which of us are related to one another. I have found a host of cousins that I never knew existed just by testing my own DNA. There is something rather powerful and mysterious about the double helix that is the essence of our lives, but it is also rather liberating to know that we often have the power to change our physical destinies with our own choices and actions.

I don’t think that we use the power of our knowledge nearly enough. We all too often operate as though we are still as ignorant about our makeup as we were hundreds of years ago. We make studies of health and nutrition come across as so dry and boring that our young have little interest in such things when in reality the information is fascinating and has the potential of radically altering their lives for the better. 

One of my mother’s all time favorite high school classes was homemaking. In today’s world such an elective would no doubt be viewed as not only having little value but even as being a bit insulting to women. Ironically my mom was constantly quoting her teacher and speaking of the things that she learned from her. She had a keen sense of nutrition and how to create a healthy and safe environment in our home. She used the information that she had learned in highly practical and useful ways. The class was deemed important by her in guiding her daily life even as she grew into her old age.

We miss the mark with our students today. Our health classes are riddled with definitions and rules that do little to inspire. Perhaps we should instead be showing them how to cook healthy meals and which forms of exercise work best. Our quest for creating more scientists and mathematicians is a worthy one but we would do even better if we were to also emphasize and encourage healthy lifestyles, not with lectures but by demonstrating how to be kind to our bodies. We have sadly regressed in this regard.

I recall watching a program many years ago in which a particular tribe of native Americans were found to have a disproportionately high incidence of diabetes. Groups of researchers descended on the area in hopes of learning why this was happening. What they found was that the people ate enormous amounts of fast food and led sedentary lives. More importantly, the scientists did a study of the history of the tribe. They saw that these were people whose ancestors had been runners who traveled everywhere on foot at rapid speeds. They had even held an annual contest to determine champions able to navigate long distances over rough terrain in record time. Their genetic structures showed that they needed this kind of physical activity to keep from succumbing to the symptoms of diabetes. The scientists built fitness centers for the entire population and sent personal trainers and nutritionists to help the citizens change their habits. Within a year the incidence of diabetes had fallen to levels below the national average in most cases without the use of medications.

We owe it to ourselves to use the remarkable genetic information that is available to us to improve our lives and those of our children. To ignore the warning signs that lie inside our bodies is foolish. It’s time that we all became both aware and active in the care and feeding of the bodies that affect us for good or ill. Let’s choose good.

Happy Birthday

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

4760252204_d1ab50cd7f_oToday marks the birthday of the United States of America, at least in terms of being the day that the Founding Fathers published the Declaration of Independence from Britain on July 4, 1776. That makes our country 241 years old which means that we are still really just youngsters in relation to other countries around the world.

Our government has made it through almost two and a half decades but not without a few ups and downs. Somehow our democratic republic has managed to stay intact thanks to the wisdom of the men who designed our Constitution. For better or worse their ideas appear to continue to work, but all of us sense that we have yet to achieve the perfection that we desire. In the long history of the world there has yet to be a flawless union of diverse people and ideas, so perhaps we are sometimes a bit too hard on ourselves. Still we long for a land in which people of varying cultures, backgrounds and beliefs will be able to live together in harmony. Perhaps ours is a pipe dream but it is built on what was perhaps the most audacious and daring experiment in freedom that history has ever witnessed. It seems to be in our DNA to want a nation in which everyone enjoys a full measure of justice and opportunity.

All of us can recite the problems that our country has sometimes ignored and other times attempted to unravel. We might spend hours outlining the injustices that were part of our past and some which continue into our present, but what’s done is done and our only goal should be to continue to move to an ever more just system. It does little good for any of us to stand in judgement of our nation’s architects given that we did not walk in their shoes.

I suspect that those men who developed the idea of becoming a free and independent country understood that getting everyone to agree on one document would be almost impossible, and so they were willing to make compromises along the way in the hopes that one day as the nation evolved the citizenry would be willing to accept new ideas and make changes to help our country grow ever stronger. To a large extent we have accomplished just that, but at the same time the world itself has become more and more complex. It is very difficult to read into our future because we are members of a massive global community in which there is a very delicate balance. As the saying goes, if a butterfly flaps its wings in Africa we all feel the effects of the flutter.

The world as we know it today is chaotic. People everywhere are searching for answers to very difficult questions. Just as with the ultimate design of our Constitution, there are no simple resolutions. Sometimes we have to compromise to keep the steady heartbeat of democracy alive. We find ourselves more and more often wondering just how much change is good and how much is too much. These were the same eternal questions that kept the signers of the Declaration of Independence awake at night.

Some of my ancestors stayed to fight the battles and some of my husband’s left for Nova Scotia to remain loyal to Britain. Who could have known back then where all of the furor would lead? Who would have dreamed that one day the entire world would be looking to our nation as a power?

In spite of my reservations about the ways in which our government runs on this day I still believe that I live in the best land on earth. I have traveled to other countries and viscerally felt the difference between our nation and theirs. On a recent trip to Mexico I was treated kindly and felt very welcome. The experience was quite lovely in all regards, but in the background were the heavily armed guards at the airport whose presence in military uniform was difficult to ignore. I enjoyed visiting the ruins of the Mayan civilization but could not help but note that the rest stop where we lingered just long enough to take care of our needs was surrounded by men in body armor who bore big guns at the ready in case of trouble. Our tour guide joked about such things and then reminded us that we should not try our adventure alone. I felt safe but had a strange sense of foreboding that I do not encounter in the place where I live.

We have a president who is struggling with his role and a Congress that seems to be incapable of working together as our Founding Fathers once did. We insist on all or nothing in our governing which has led to a great divide that far too closely resembles the state of affairs when our nation was not quite one hundred years old. We toss aside politicians who appear to want to compromise for the betterment of everyone and instead cast our lots with rabble rousers who refuse to acknowledge the things that we have in common. We forget that the our beginnings were imperfect but managed to give us a starting point. Today’s atmosphere would have kept us under the rule of Britain and we’d all be singing “God Save the Queen” if men like Madison and Hamilton, Adams and Jefferson had not been able to come to an agreement that began the process of establishing our republic.

I love my country and continue to have great hope for it. We will soon enough settle down and find ways to move forward together. It is something that we always seem to eventually do. I long for politicians who will unite us rather than divide. I believe that incremental progress is inevitable. So Happy Birthday, United States of America. Long may your banners wave. Let’s hope we can guide you through your adolescent years and into a future that will unite us as never before. I have faith in you. God bless.

Churches

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

19510606_1819990221352292_3124586995295021826_nI write my blogs in the early morning hours when the world is a fairly quiet place. I look out on the little world of my backyard as I gather my thoughts and seek inspiration for a topic. Sometimes the ideas seem to pop out of nowhere like a distant call inside my head. It is as though I am being gently compelled to speak of a certain idea, event or individual. This day lead me to a rather strange place.

It began as I pondered my recent trip to Mexico and a visit to San Sebastian Church in an old colonial town dating back to the fifteen hundreds. Our tour bus stopped just long enough for a quick peek inside the old structure where daily mass was being celebrated in spite of all of the gawking tourists. The sounds of the ritual prayers were so soothing to me, and their familiarity in spite of being uttered in a somewhat foreign language helped me to fully understand just how the word “catholic” means universal. I remembered my religion teachers telling us back when I was still a child that we might go anywhere on earth and find the same mass with the same prayers. Here I was thousands of miles away from home and I knew exactly what was going on inside that historical church just as I suspect its earliest parishioners would have also known. It was a joyful moment for me as the people raised their voices in song and praise because I felt a deep connection to them that came from being part of a Church that transcends local geography.

Of course I also thought about the tragedy of missionary work in Mexico that had so ignorantly trampled the culture and traditions of the Mayan people who were indigenous to the area. In the misguided belief that the natives and their own religious ideas were somehow less advanced, the Franciscans built San Sebastian and other churches throughout Mexico hoping to save them. We now see the practice as questionable, but back then it was viewed as a matter of doing God’s work. Thus it often is with religious fervor. There is a very thin line between actually helping people by spreading the love of Christ and being presumptuously and wrongly judgmental. Sadly the history of missionary work in the colonies of the European nations intent on founding new worlds were sometimes far too dismissive of the local morays.

Such backward thinking is present in radical and fundamental religious sects even in today’s more enlightened world. In particular the members of Westboro Baptist Church are an example of demonstrating the most obnoxious and invasive forms of overreach. In a blind belief that they somehow have all of the eternal answers they time and again force their presence and their tainted ideas about God on people who would rather not have to deal with them. This past weekend was no exception as noted by a longtime and dear friend of mine whose children were shocked when they encountered a demonstration being held by the group in front of a Lutheran church in Pasadena, Texas. The zealots were holding signs that read, “God Hates Gays!” a particularly repulsive statement to my friend because she is in fact a lesbian woman.

I firmly believe as my friend does that God doesn’t hate anyone. To say so is to contradict all of the preachings of Jesus whose one and only commandment was that we love one another. I often wonder how we manage to take His clear and powerful message and distort it to conform to twisted interpretations. I have little doubt that if Jesus were to walk among us once again He would emphatically reiterate that His is a religion of peace and kindness devoid of judging and other such nonsense. I can almost envision Him tearing up signs that indicate that any form of hate is a product of God. To me such pronouncements are nothing short of blasphemy, a perversion of His words.

Ironically as I was experiencing the sting of anger over the hurt that I knew my friend was feeling because of the rabid Westboro folk, I encountered a grainy old black and white photo of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Catholic Church being built back in the early nineteen fifties. The church opened its doors for the first mass in the same month in which I turned four years old. Two years later I was a parishioner there along with my parents. I would spend the remainder of my school years learning about my Catholic faith in that parish built near Hobby Airport back when southeast Houston was little more than empty fields waiting to be developed in the post World War II boom. It was a wonderful experience in every sense mostly because it was where I was taught about a God who is all about love.

In the same spirit as Pope Francis today the nuns and priests and laypeople who were my teachers and mentors unveiled a love filled religion to me and my classmates. They taught us to honor our fellow humans and to see ourselves as citizens of a beautiful world in which we are all cherished by God. Ours were lessons in understanding and inclusion. We were told to empathize rather than indict, and so I struggle to understand how some fanatical Christians or those of other over zealous sects can be so self righteous as to presume that they are speaking and acting for God.

Of course religion or lack of it is a very personal thing. I would be loathe to foist my own faith on someone else. Still I would be remiss to simply leave my friend and others who are abused and misjudged to endure the taunts of groups like Westboro Baptist Church without defense from those of us who disagree with hateful preaching. Sometimes we have to speak up when the actions of others are so egregious.

Yes, it is a free country. Yes, the folks from Westboro Baptist Church have a right to their freedoms of religion and speech. I will not ever deny them those things. What I will do is shout from the rooftops that God is not about any form of hate and never will be. I will embrace my friend who is in fact a good and godly woman. I am certain that she is loved by our Lord, and I want her to know that those of us who have been lucky enough to join her in our collective journey through this life will always be by her side.

Chizen Itza

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Chichen_Itza_3.jpgThere was a time when the Mayan people lived in great cities in Guatemala and Mexico. They had developed a syllabic form of writing and created books to record their history. They were advanced in the study of astronomy, predicting celestial events with great precision. Their calendar was remarkable in its accuracy, coinciding with the Roman version in stunning ways. They were among the first people to use zero as a place holder and had an uncanny understanding of mathematics. Their art and architecture was and remains beautiful in its representations. They were a remarkably advanced people but without much reason their influence began to wane around the thirteenth century. Today there are maybe six or seven million Mayan people left living mostly in Guatemala and the Yucatan Peninsula, often in impoverished conditions.

There are many theories as to what may have happened to this once thriving society. Drought may have brought famine. Disease may have decimated the population. War with other tribes like the Aztecs may have resulted in great losses. Mostly though it was the arrival of the Spanish that spelled doom for the Mayan people. They greeted the white men from across the ocean as though they were gods and soon enough found that they were not destined to be treated well by the invaders. The people and their lands were commandeered and they were forced to learn and speak only Spanish, as well as to follow the Catholic faith of the missionaries who came to “civilize” the new world.

There had once been vast libraries of Mayan writing but the Spanish colonists feared the strange hieroglyphs and burned most of the volumes that they found thinking that they were works of the devil. By the nineteenth century the Mayan language was all but wiped out and only a handful of Mayan texts had survived. Many of the great structures lay in tangled mounds in the jungle, seemingly forgotten and laid to waste. The Mayan people were neglected as well, often spending their days growing corn and living in primitive conditions without education. It was difficult for them or anyone to realize how great their ancestors had once been.

In the mid nineteenth century a few people around the world began to take an interest in the forgotten civilization. One by one ruins from the past were uncovered and studies of the mysterious structures commenced. Of particular interest were the strange symbols that appeared to represent some type of writing. It would not be until the middle of the twentieth century for the complex characters to be translated by some very unlikely young people, including a twelve year old boy. Once the secrets of the forms were discovered a treasure trove of history and ideas was revealed to a startled public that suddenly realized how advanced this society had actually been.

During my recent visit to Cancun I was fortunate to be able to visit one of the premier Mayan ruins in the world at Chichen Itza. This had once been a great city that was developed toward the end of the Mayan era. It featured a grand pyramid that was as remarkable for its astrological features as its architecture. It is a mathematical wonder based on a three hundred sixty five day year with a total of three hundred sixty four stairs and a temple at the to complete the total. The pyramid itself represents the three states of existence, including the earthly condition, the underworld and heaven.

The Mayan people believed that when they died they would first visit the underworld which was not a bad place. Instead it was where they would have to complete certain tasks before they would be allowed to enter heaven. Much of their art and architecture alludes to birth, death and the final ascension into heaven with the gods.

During the time of the spring and autumn equinox a shadow appears to wriggle along the main staircases on the sides of the pyramid giving the impression of a snake slithering along. To this very day crowds gather to watch this strange and fascinating  occurrence. It must have been quite magical to the ancient Mayans who saw it as a deeply religious experience.

The Mayans were farmers who depended on the production of corn but they were also great warriors who for a time dominated opposing tribes. They prepared their young men for battle by staging ballgames on a field that still exists at Chichen Itza. It is a long area enclosed by stone walls featuring the imagery of a snake and hieroglyphs and carvings that tell stories of the great leaders and events. The structure was built in such a way that it carries sound quite well so that the audience would have been able to hear announcements without the need of microphones or sound enhancing methods. Along the side walls there are large stone circles through which the athletes were to toss heavy balls using only their arms, legs and feet but no hands. The winners were lauded but the losers often became sacrifices to the gods. It was truly a blood sport and the letting of blood featured heavily in many of the religious ceremonies as well. There was definitely an element of extreme violence even among people who appeared to have so much knowledge about the natural world.

Chichen Itza is remarkably well preserved and features enough buildings to give a real impression of how large this city was. One structure boasts a rather quaint feature. If a group of people clap their hands in unison the sound of a local bird echoes through the air. Yet another wall depicts a man with a beard, a strange aspect given that the Mayans did not grow hair on their faces. Many theories have been developed regarding who this unlikely character may have been. Mayan legends tell of a tall white blue eyed man coming to the land in a huge boat and teaching the people many important things about farming and astronomy. He is said to have told them as he was leaving that he would one day return but he cautioned them to be wary of other strangers who might look like him but would be violent rather than benign.

Chichen Itza is about a two hour drive from Cancun. The best way to go these days is with a tour. Driving alone is not advised because the journey winds its way through miles of jungle and there are still worries that members of cartels may take advantage of unwitting visitors. We chose an all day tour that also took us to an old colonial town where we were able to visit San Sebastian Church and see the modern day Mayans at work. We also stopped at a lovely restaurant for lunch where we had an opportunity to shop for local works of art. After a guided tour of the Chichen Itza site we went to a cenote which is a sink hole caused by the collapse of land around an underground river. It was literally a kind of oasis in the middle of brutal heat and humidity. Many of the younger tourists took a dip in the one hundred fifty foot deep waters cooling themselves after a very hot day.

I’m now on a crusade to learn more about the Mayan civilization. I have purchased books and watched documentaries in an effort to discover the history and the accomplishments of a people who built centers of great knowledge at a time when my own ancestors were probably wandering from one place to another hunting and gathering just to stay alive. Visiting Chichen Itza was a mind altering kind of trip and I totally recommend the adventure.