A Better Investment

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When I was a student I earned a four year scholarship to any state school of my choice. Since I liked my hometown university and didn’t want to disrupt my mother’s well being by adding to her stress I enrolled in the University of Houston, the same school that Elizabeth Warren attended at about the same time. It was a happy decision for both me and my mom because that scholarship would take care of all of the costs as long as I kept up my grades.

My first year was exciting to me because I had been incredibly isolated up to that time. I had essentially attended school with the same group of students from second grade with a few more coming from Catholic schools in the area when I went to high school. My neighborhood was my world and I rarely went beyond its periphery. Even then it was to shop at nearby stores or to visit relatives. I was decidedly unaware of the rest of my growing city or the world outside beyond what I read in newspapers and books. Going to a large public university was somewhat akin to being thrown into a shark tank, but I was more than ready for the challenge. In fact, I wanted it more than anything. I saw striking out into a school where I would literally become a number as an exciting way to get a college experience without leaving town and making things difficult for my parent.

My first year at the University of Houston was a revelation. I had a few classes in huge auditoriums where there were almost as many students as half of the population of my private high school. Others, like a German seminar, had under twenty in the group. I went to Greek parties, attended the football games, hang out in the Cougar Den, participated in civil rights and antiwar demonstrations, and saw celebrities up close like Mohammed Ali who was still using his birth name of Cassius Clay. I met students from Alaska and around the world. It was a heady experience during which I kept up my grades to insure that my scholarship would be secure. Unfortunately I was totally unaware that I had an obligation to re-apply for the financial aid each year to verify that I was indeed maintaining a high grade point average.

Back then the process of registration for classes was an abomination. Each student received a specific time to wait in a line and then be allowed into an auditorium where grad students manned desks for each major. They had boxes of computer cards that represented the individual classes according to professor, meeting time and section number. I had to race from one station to another to hopefully secure cards for the courses that I wanted to take. If the cards were gone from one of my choices I had to make on the spot decisions regarding what to take because my scholarship required me to take a certain number of hours as well as to graduate within four years.

As a sophomore I was far more prepared for the onslaught than I had been as a freshman and I felt confident in the preparations I had made for the challenge of securing a decent schedule. In fact I had my fifteen hours secured without a hitch and as I walked to the financial aid station to get my scholarship money and guarantee my classes for another semester I felt somewhat smug. I had little idea that my world was about to shatter.

I handed my computer cards to the worker and gave her my student number so that she might verify the payment for them. She scanned the lists with a bored expression that did not change until she had reached the end and had failed to find my information. She asked me to write my full name and student number on a piece of paper that she used as a kind of guide to run down the list one more time. Still she found nothing and panic began to overtake me. I barely heard her instructions to take my cards and myself to the financial aid office to determine what was wrong.

Once I got to the official domain of loans and scholarships I wrote my name on a long list and sat waiting for what felt like eternity. A rather brusk woman ushered me into her office to find out what I needed. She made no attempt to hide her impatience instead rushing me to describe my problem. Without saying a word she began searching through alphabetized files. Within a few minutes she returned to her desk with a folder that evidently contained my information. Without fanfare she announced, “You no longer have the scholarship. You did not renew it.”

I felt as though I had been gut punched and was hardly able to admit that I had no idea that I had to renew the scholarship. I thought that it was good for four years as long as I kept my grades in order. Nobody had ever mentioned to me that there was a yearly process beyond simply going to classes, making the grades and then returning for a new semester.

The woman barely contained her annoyance with my whining that was rapidly turning into tears. She announced that there was nothing that she might do to help. My scholarship was gone, not just for that semester but forever. She made it clear that I needed to move on and allow her to get back to her work with the long line of other students who were seeking information. I left with my tail between my legs because I had no idea how I was going to pay for my classes and I did not want to ask my mother for money that I knew she did not have.

After spending several minutes sobbing inside a stall in the bathroom I screwed up my courage and came up with a plan. I had worked all summer and I had just enough funds to cover the classes and pay for my books. My fun money would be gone but at least I would still have courses to attend. I managed to pay for my classes then and in future semesters and never once had to secure a student loan which gets me to the heart of my story.

Back then the cost of college was low enough that I was able to work part-time and earn the funds needed to cover expenses. Today the price tag on even state universities has soared to ridiculous levels. A little work here and there is not sufficient to pay the bills of learning. Adding to the difficulty is the fact that today’s students are limited to the amount of time that they may take before graduating and being forced to begin the repayment process on loans with interest rates that would make Shylock appear benign. Instead of having a set payment for a certain amount of time those student loans operate more like a credit card, growing at a frightening rate as time passes. It can take years for someone to pay them back even when they are lucky enough to land a well paying job.

I find myself wondering what I would have done and where I would be today if the cost of my education had been in the same league with what students now face. I suppose that I would have had to drop out for a semester and gone to work until I had saved enough to return or somehow secure a loan. I managed to pay for two degrees from rather low paying jobs. By the time my daughters went to college my husband and I had to take out loans which took years to repay. The situation students face today is more dire than ever. I paid around five hundred dollars a semester for my undergraduate degree. Their tabs are more in the range of tens of thousands of dollars. Even using proportion based on the increases in salaries over the years the expenses related to  university educations has blown up to almost untenable levels. We need to find a reasonable plan for dealing with this, and so far the ideas are not particularly well thought out.

I think that universities should begin the process by cutting unnecessary items from their budgets. We did not have fully loaded gyms and entertainment venues on campus back in the day. We got by with a more bare bones approach to education that concentrated on the basics but still provided exceptional teaching. We can also streamline the student loan business and set up contracts with students that work more like the kind of loans that one might get to purchase a car or home rather than treating them like credit card charges that can take years to repay. There should be lower payment incentives for students who maintain high grade point averages or who major in particularly needed fields. Instead of placing hefty tax burdens on the wealthy there should be tax breaks for those who invest their money in educating worthy students, thereby increasing the number of scholarships or no interest loans available. Grandparents, aunts, uncle, friends, employees, businesses who help students should receive some kind of tax credit thereby making such contributions attractive. I’d certainly rather send my some of the money that I now pay in taxes to a worthy student. Such outreach should by definition include helping individuals pay for trade schooling as well as traditional university educations.

It’s way past time for our country to invest in the education of our youth. It need not mean a great burden on unwilling tax payers and it does not have to be free and without strings. It simply needs to be a complete overhaul that seeks to cut costs, incentivize the process of helping students to pay for college or any form of training, and find ways to simplify loans so that they have a set payment schedule that ends by a certain date. We can make things better but it won’t happen until we get serious and have a bit of compassion for the young people who really do want to make a better future for themselves and the rest of us. We need them to carry on the work of this nation. I can’t think of a better investment for the good of all of us.

Twenty Questions

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A young man recently asked me to answer a set of twenty questions regarding my life. They were quite thought provoking, but more importantly they forced me to contemplate the arc of my life and how I had been affected by both unplanned events and the choices that I made. All in all I realized as I honestly reflected on all that I have experienced that mine has been a good life. While I’ve endured some rough patches much as most people do, I was able to overcome them because of the lessons I learned from my parents and the support of extended family and friends. At the end of the day it’s not so much what things I have amassed that is important as the sense of well being that I have because of a feeling that I have generally done my best to live well.

So often my life took turns that I would not have chosen on my own but my mother had shown me how to take back the power by reacting hopefully to even the most devastating events. She used to tell me to watch and learn and I suppose that I became an expert at sitting back and quietly observing how the people around me dealt with the blows that were thrown at them. Over and over again I witnessed acts of courage and strength that both inspired me and made me an optimistic person. I learned that we don’t always get what we thought we wanted but often we find something even better than what we had dreamed.

I was at dinner with my grandson and his brilliant and beautiful girlfriend and we had the most remarkable conversation. We spoke of how much my grandson physically resembles my father whom he quite naturally called “Grandpa Jack.” He commented that somehow my dad’s legacy had quite clearly registered with him. He wanted to believe that he is carrying on the traditions of a man that neither he nor his mother had ever met. Amazingly he is so much like my father, his “Grandpa Jack,” that it is almost uncanny. I smiled at the thought of how proud my father would have been to hear our discussions of history, philosophy, and great ideas. It was just the sort of thing that he so enjoyed. Had he been present he would have been beaming with joy and yet he had left this earth when he was only thirty three. It is remarkable how much we carry the marks of our ancestors even when we never knew them.

My mother and father both taught me to appreciate the happiness that comes from learning, exploring, challenging the mind. From a very young age they exposed me to music, literature, visual arts, mathematics, science. It seemed natural to me to spend hours poring over a book. All I ever needed as a child was my bicycle and a library card to find a state of nirvana. I never really noticed that our family was struggling to make ends meet because I was so busy exploring the world around me. My mother taught my brothers and I that there was always a way to survive if we used our wits and were willing to work hard. We watched her earn a college degree when she was in her forties. To say that she inspired us was an understatement.

I had once thought of being a doctor. I slowly realized that I wanted that career more for the income and prestige it would bring me than for the sense of purpose it would provide. Slowly but surely I found myself returning to the idea of being a teacher, something that many people counseled me against doing. They reminded me that I was capable of doing great things and they somehow believed that teaching was not worthy of my intellect. In my heart I knew that they were wrong. I found great personal satisfaction in working with young children and attempting to instill in them the values and love of learning that my father had shown me. Once I became a teacher I was satisfied that I had found meaning in life. Only once did I consider trying something different and luckily a professor convinced me that leaving education would tear my very soul apart.

With the twenty questions I had to speak of my childhood friendships which were rather remarkable in that I am still great friends with individuals with whom I went to elementary school. I can meet with neighborhood playmates and talk for hours as though we still live just down the street from one another. I have high school friends who constantly remind me of my good fortune. They were the foundation upon which I built my adult life. They never really knew how much they meant to me when times became tough for my mother and brothers and me. I have met people along the way at church, work and in my neighborhood who have sustained me and made me realize the importance and goodness of friendships.

Answering those twenty questions reminded me of the blessings that have helped me through the difficult times that each of us invariably face. Those inquiries showed me that I did indeed learn from the example of my parents, my extended family and my friends. Those probes into my past not only will help a young man to complete a project for one of his classes but they also helped me to reflect on the wondrous ways in which both accident and effort define who I am. I’m happy to pronounce that I feel quite good about how things turned out, something that might have been different were it not for a host of individuals who walked with me along the way. 

Any Questions?

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My favorite students were always the ones who asked questions. They were unafraid to seek answers for whatever concerns were on their minds. I always cringed whenever I heard a colleague shutting down a youngster by brusquely indicating irritation with inquiries that they thought were “stupid.” I don’t believe that there is ever a question from a child or an adult for that matter that is unworthy of some kind of response. I truly believe that the innate curiosity that prompts inquiries from little ones is the very foundation upon which we humans learn. Somewhere along the developmental path so many lose their willingness to seek answers to the issues that trouble their minds.

The great discoveries and philosophies of the world began with questions. Our wonder drives our inventiveness. We are creative beings who see our environments through a lens of inquisitiveness. We are not merely satisfied to accept our environment as it is. We want to know why it is. We are not only capable of thinking, but also of thinking about how we think. We have a need to understand that is guided by the questions that surface in our minds.

I enjoy a lively discussion in which each person’s ideas are respected and given a platform. I like to hear how other people think about societal issues. It matters little to me whether or not I agree with them. I am simply fascinated by the different paths that individuals follow. At the same time I am always disturbed by efforts to silence those with whom we disagree. We lose something when we only associate ourselves with like minded individuals. Our need to delve deeper into inquires evaporates when we only hear what we already believe. It may feel good to have our philosophies reinforced but it does nothing to expand our minds, to learn something that we never before knew. Being around conflicting opinions forces us to critically parse the information that we are hearing, an exercise that we seem to do so little of these days.

I think that perhaps the most important question that we may ask ourselves is why we are so often afraid of questions. We hide from them in the guise of being irritated but what I believe is really happening is that we feel challenged in a way that moves us out of our comfort zone and into the realm of unknowns that shake the very foundations of what we believe. It can be a terrifying but also exhilarating moment to suddenly wonder if perhaps there is indeed a new way of looking at the world.

In the long ago when my husband was a graduate student at the University of Houston he received invitations from a professor who hosted intellectual soirees at his home. It was a gathering of academics who spent the evening sitting in a circle discussing the great theories and inquires of the world. The professor would jump start the proceedings with a question of his own that was not meant to elicit a specific response but rather a multitude of possible responses. I generally sat and just listened to the remarkable variety of thinking that ensued. I felt that my own view of life expanded just from hearing so many novel ideas, some of which challenged the very foundations of what I had always believed. I found both the complementary and conflicting philosophies to be liberating as they created more and more questions in my mind.

I worry that today’s society has set boundaries for independent thinking that are as rigid as those teachers that I have witnessed ridiculing students for asking questions that appear to be without merit. There is a stifling of free thought that will in turn limit the depth of learning that every society needs to thrive. It has to be okay to think in unique ways without fearing retaliation. Our schools must be forums in which everyone is willing to suspend preconceived notions for the sake of finding new possibilities. Debate needs to be reinstated to its former glory as a way of seeking truth through logic and a willingness to consider many sides of an argument. We should all be insisting that we hear all voices, not just those that already concur with what we believe. Without truly open discourse we stagnate as individuals and as a society.

The great moments of history have been guided by a kind of enlightenment, imperfect for certain but nonetheless willing to look at our human existence in unique ways. Where would we be without the methods of Socrates, the groundbreaking inquisitiveness of Leonardo da Vinci, the observant genius of Shakespeare, the brilliance of Descartes, the revolutionary ideas of Locke? The greatest minds ask questions seeking not only the given but also the unknown. Truth is found not by drowning the voices of those with whom we disagree but by quieting our own long enough to see that tiny grain of truth hidden in the bombast. Inquiry is not just about questions but also about a willingness to honestly hear the answers being offered.

I suppose that for me the most important question of all is, “How can we humans best develop our willingness to learn through honest and open inquiry that proceeds with a willingness to hear all voices before drawing conclusions?” This should be the most natural way to learn but at least for now we seem to have chosen to dialogue only with those who agree with us and feign indignation when we encounter those who don’t. I doubt we will see much progress until we change our ways.

Finding Joy In the Mundane

mundaneI suppose that we’ve all experienced that age old fantasy of just chucking it all one day and driving away into idealized oblivion. It’s a ridiculous dream of being totally free from any kind of responsibility, living as though there is no tomorrow. We sometimes experience a feeling of what such a lifestyle might be like when we go on a vacation trip and don’t have to cook a meal, make a bed, do laundry, report to work. We fantasize what a forever vacation might be like until we return home to bills that must be paid, appointments that must be met, work that must be done. We understand all too well that everyone has to grow up, leave Disneyland, and get back to work even as we plan the next getaway.

What if by some Twilight Zone miracle we really did find a way to rid ourselves of all those hated chores associated with daily routine and survival? What would we still agree to do every single day and what would we gladly jettison from our to do lists? Would we soon find ourselves miserable from boredom like Rod Serling characters who always seemed to belatedly realize that reality is generally better than imagined utopias?

There are things that I do with great regularity some of which I thoroughly enjoy and some which I loathe but do anyway. I mean who in their right mind likes folding and putting away clothes that have been cleaned by the lovely machines invented to lighten our loads? I have to remind myself that it wasn’t that long ago when my ancestors had few changes of clothing and cleaning the ones that they did own was a tedious job. If I tell myself that the basket of items fresh and warm from the dryer are actually representative of my good fortune, the irksome task of storing them neatly away becomes more palatable.

I don’t much care for doing dishes either, but I can count on one hand the number of times that I have gone to bed with dirty plates and pots and pans sitting in the sink. I’m obsessive about the idea of walking into a sparklingly clean kitchen when I arise each morning. I’m a bit of a grouch until I drink my morning tea and enjoy a spot of food so the thought of facing a mess before I’m even fully awake is unbearable to me. I will work until my kitchen is back in place even at the end of a big Christmas day celebration in spite of my profound dread of the project.

I know that exercising is good for me and I always feel invigorated after a good session of activity but I find the whole process to be utterly boring. I really do wish that there were some magic pill that I might take to replicate my efforts. I’ve tried teasing my mind into believing that it’s a relaxing time for reading or listening to music while I move and lift and bear weight but I’ve never been able to actually get enthusiastic about the process and I must admit to being guilty of using rather lame excuses to skip my very necessary self care whenever possible. 

Modern life is rather easy for most people in developed countries these days as compared to the past. We have machines that get us rather quickly from one place to another. We are able to listen to music anytime that we wish or communicate with people from afar. We accomplish our dreaded tasks with implements that our ancestors would have viewed as miraculous. Even ordinary folk live in better conditions than kings and queens of old and yet we  are prone to complain about the quality of our lives. I suppose that our human natures are easily dissatisfied and so like the fisherman and his wife we want to capture the magic fish that will make all of our dreams come true without any of the hard work. Like them I suspect that having the world on a silver platter is never quite as satisfying as accomplishing something through our own hard work.

I may dread getting sweaty from a brisk workout but I always feel quite good about myself when I’m done. I may hate pushing my brain beyond it’s parameters to learn something new but I swell with pride once I have mastered a difficult concept. We were made to push ourselves, to work hard, to have a purpose for rising from our beds each morning. Running away from our troubles or our routines is never the way to find nirvana. Even Wendy and her brothers realized that they had to return home to take up the tasks of becoming adults. Escape is a fantasy that brings happiness only for a limited time. Sooner or later we have to return to reality and it’s worth the effort to find ways to pleasantly accept the things that we know we must do.

I find myself being thankful all day long that I have the health to keep my home, my mind and my body in working order. Instead of feeling grumpy about my duties I think of how wonderful it is that I have incredible tools for accomplishing each task. With a little change of attitude I realize that I don’t need or want to run away from the things that I must do. I know that I am one very lucky person to live in a glorious place during an incredible time. The joy that I desire is actually found in doing all of those mundane routines that I have the ability to perform. I smile each time I think about how lucky I am. 

Finding Our True Roles

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Shakespeare eloquently reminds us that all the world’s a stage and like members of an ensemble cast we each play many different roles in our lifetimes. The demands on us keep us busy and sometimes even a bit confused about who it is that we truly wish to be as we juggle schedules that sometimes force us to run from dawn to the last hours before we fall asleep. Setting priorities, enforcing limits, choosing what is most important can be more difficult than we might imagine as we encounter duties, demands and requests for our precious time. Balancing the needs of others with our own is often one of the most overwhelming tasks that we may encounter and so we often find ourselves hurrying through our days in a state of exhaustion dreaming of a time when we might take control of our schedules and lighten our loads.

People’s roles in life used to be a bit more rigidly delineated. The men went to work each day and the women stayed home taking care of the household and the children. Each person had carefully defined purposes that were decided more by accident of birth and societal norms than personal choice. Sadly the traditions never really worked for many who felt constrained by norms that overlooked individual desires and dreams, particularly with regard to the ladies. Over time the idea of allowing each person to determine his/her own purpose became more and more commonplace with the hope that in allowing increased freedom of expression we would generally be happier as a society, but it sometimes seems as though we have only created new barriers to finding the best life for each person.

Instead of encouraging one another to embrace themselves we have created expectations that all too often make daily life more difficult and less satisfying than ever. We have constructed artificial templates for success that can seem impossible to achieve. It’s now a “you can do it all and have it all” kind of world that leaves some wondering why things are not working for them. We see the so called icons of achievement advancing in careers, maintaining seemingly perfect families, working out regularly at gyms, cooking healthy gourmet meals, volunteering for various causes with boundless energy and we wonder why we can’t keep up with the pace of their enviable lives. Instead we are exhausted from trying so hard to meet the new standards and maybe even feeling as though we are failing at every turn. Little do we realize that the lives of the rich and successful are not always as wonderful as they seem. Keeping up an image of paradise is wrought with many obligations that may create more dissatisfaction than happiness.

Little wonder that Prince Harry and his beautiful wife, Meghan, have decided to eschew the so called fairytale life of a royal in search of something more meaningful. They have rather wisely determined that the only way to be masters of their own fate is to strike out on their own. They will of course learn that living to the beat of their own drum is riddled with its own complications, but having the courage to make their own choices is the start of a journey toward self satisfaction and happiness.

The reality is that no one person can or should do it all. We each have to decide how much we can actually handle before coming undone. That means that we will have to just say “no” now and again if we are to control the aspects of our lives that mean the most to us. The wise person is one who understands what he/she needs to do or not do to maintain a sense of purpose without becoming overwhelmed.

I know that I am happiest when I have an equal measure of time for myself and for others. I need quiet moments to contemplate and recharge but I also feel best when I have done something meaningful outside of myself. I’ve learned that I just have to be careful not to overdo either being alone or working into a frenzy. These days I’ve become more adept at listening to both my body and my mind for clues that I am taking on more than I should. Those pains in my hip or anxious moments of insomnia remind me that I have to let something go. Like Harry and Meghan I choose what roles I most want and need to perform.

My most basic human roles remain my most important and they all revolve around family and friends. I am first and foremost a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a friend. My instinct is to drop everything else when someone who is a member of my circle is in need. Somehow no other task feels as important as helping a loved one. In that regard my role in life is as traditional as such things have always been. Nonetheless, when the situation permits I need to express my talents, my creativity. I find great joy in writing, in helping someone to learn, in being a kind of amateur counselor. I enjoy making the world that inhabit a bit more beautiful which means decorating, gardening, cooking. I must also feed my soul with reading and learning. Finally I push myself to keep my body in good condition, my least favorite role but one that is important for carrying out the other aspects of my life that bring me so much joy. When I feel overwhelmed I begin to shave away my obligations one at a time until I reach a comfortable feeling of stasis.

If I had one message for young people just beginning their journeys into adulthood it would be to understand that life is about the choices that we make. The important thing is to seek those roles that bring joy and happiness along with healthy bodies and minds. Learning how to strike a balance that allows us to weather difficult times is critical to our wellbeing, and only each individual truly knows what that must be. There are many acts in our lives that require us to play many roles, the best among them are the ones that reflect our true passions.