Problem Solving – Page 5 – All It Takes Is A Little Love

Sound and Fury

Published on November 10, 2017November 8, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

texas-church-shooting-victims-comp-18-1530_bf40109d18256874b2e36df40ca16083.nbcnews-fp-1200-800 Death is as much a part of the human experience as birth and all of the milestones in between. We never know exactly when our time here on earth will end unless we consciously choose to take our own lives. Even then our bodies may resist the harm that we inflict. We may awake to find that we have been saved. If we or a loved one contract a terminal illness we may begin to prepare for the inevitable fate, but still there is an uncertainty. Miracles do indeed sometimes happen. Thus we all understand that while death will be our ultimate end, it is up to each of us to make the most of the interim that defines our time here on earth.

It is in the goodness of our natures that we find the desire to make the world a better place. Our unselfish tendencies nurture the people that we encounter. It prompts us to put ourselves in harms way to save strangers. It urges us to share our bounty with the less fortunate. It results in democracy, justice and integrity. Each of us possess the traits of angels, but in our humanity there is also a dark side. Just as Cain allowed his jealousies to overcome his better instincts, so too do we find that within our same glorious minds we have thoughts that frighten us. Most of the time we control our baser sides, and so most of us are generally very good. Sadly, now and again we witness evil on a grand scale and it both frightens and befuddles us. We want to control it and drive it away, but we have yet to completely eradicate it. Even in the heavenly realm we are told that Lucifer fell from grace. We wonder how we can ensure a more peaceful world if the humanity of mankind continues again and again to bend in the direction of hate.

We have grown weary of witnessing death that results from the hands of individuals with warped minds. We understand that the enormity of their actions is complex and not easily addressed, but our instincts tell us that surely there must be ways to curb the violence that dominates the headlines all too often. Because of the infinite diversity of our backgrounds and thinking we have a difficult time agreeing on how to proceed in the face of mass murders that make schools, churches and entertainment venues unsafe. We respectfully take off our shoes, walk through x-ray machines, have our purses searched for potentially harmful items, follow speed limits, put our phones away while we are driving, limit our personal freedoms for the safety of the whole. We may find such intrusions to be annoying, but we endure them nonetheless because we believe that they are designed to help the greater good. Even though we also understand that any rules have an element of imperfection, we would rather try to prevent crimes than to ignore them.

There is a great debate over guns in our country that runs through a spectrum from those who would demand that nobody be allowed to own them to those who insist that it is a guaranteed right to possess any number or type of firearms as long as an individual has not been legally deemed unfit to do so. Each time a monster chooses to murder innocents with a gun we are horrified and the old debates ensue, but we are unable to find an answer because we seem to fear that one extreme or another will win the day. We appear to be incapable of engaging in a discussion that will lead to a compromise. We are at a standoff that accomplishes nothing.

The arguments are all too familiar. We hear that those who kill are anomalies, and even if all of the rest of us were to surrender our guns tomorrow evil would still find a way to perpetrate foul deeds. We hear that people kill, not guns. We are told that in the immediate aftermath of tragedies we should not dishonor the dead with political discussions. We are urged to have more conversations of how to deal with the mental illnesses that so often fuel the rage of killers. It is suggested that we create stricter laws regarding the numbers and kinds of firearms that anyone may possess. We are urged to make the purchase of guns more difficult so that we will have fewer of them in our midst. We are reminded that criminals never follow laws anyway, so why have them. The arguments stretch on and on, and so we cry and mourn for those affected by tragedies, but remain at a stalemate regarding how to prevent them.

We see mass murders happening at an all too frequent rate, and we wring our hands in agony and fear that we may not be as safe as we would like to be. We don’t quite know what to do. We wonder and worry that any effort that we make will be in vain, and yet surely we have enough intellect and courage to devise a plan that will at least quell the violence even if it does not eliminate it entirely. We grow weary of the arguments and unwillingness to tackle an obvious problem. We understand that our leaders adopt points of view that they believe will get them reelected rather than being willing to venture into discussions of a plan aimed at ultimately reducing the probability that innocents going about their daily business will needlessly die.

I have prayed with all of my heart that those in whom we entrust the functioning of our nation will begin to listen to not just those who support them, but also those who disagree. Each of us must have a voice and yet there are all too many occasions in which those in power ignore half of the citizens. It has become the accepted way of doing things and as such little is ever accomplished. At any given moment in political time far too many feel disenfranchised. When they protest they are ridiculed. We are expected to take sides and then remain loyal to a particular set of beliefs no matter how questionable they may become. While engulfed in sound and fury signifying nothing, terror rains down on us, unborn children die, we fight even with those that we love.

I have been filled with great sadness of late. It is not a place where I wish to be. My innate nature is to be happy and optimistic. I believe with all of my heart that people are truly good. I have seen proof of this on a grand scale during the floods that threatened to destroy my city. I have celebrated after our baseball team won the World Series and noted how magnificently we came together without thoughts of our differences. I know that it is very possible to set aside our polarities and work together. The outcomes of our efforts will no doubt be imperfect but my mathematical mind tells me that it is possible to make closer and closer approximations to a perfection that may one day save lives.

Far too many of us are abrogating our rights to having a voice in our government. We shy away from discussions among ourselves. We are too busy to tell our representatives how we feel. We take our freedoms for granted and somehow believe that silence is preferable to making waves. We walk away from those whose opinions are different from ours rather than calmly engaging in discourse. We are afraid of disagreements and close our ears to ideas that conflict with ours. We wait for change rather than attempting to create it. We accuse those who demonstrate their concerns of being unpatriotic rather than pausing to understand what is bothering them. We fall prey to propaganda and soundbites rather than becoming truly informed. We all feel that something is very wrong but we fear what may occur if we pay attention for too long. Deep in our hearts we abhor what is happening but we are not willing to endure the process of setting things aright again.

I recently had a discussion with someone who had become disenchanted with Senator Ted Cruz of Texas because of his defiant speech at the Republican National Convention. Ironically I had always disliked the senator until the moment when he chose to stand up for his own beliefs. I still disagree with most of his ideas, but I thought it rather remarkable that he was willing to do the unthinkable by urging members of his party to vote their consciences rather than blindly following the crowd. I was quite sad when he eventually fell in line for fear of alienating his party and losing his position. I would have preferred that he remain steadfast in feeling that we must stop the rock solid allegiances to people and philosophies even when we realize that they are hurting our country.

I cannot be certain that there is one action that will help to curb the gun violence that so plagues us. We need to address not just the ownership of guns but other issues as well. We continue to be confounded by the prevalence of mental illness. We must discuss the abuse of young children and the violence to which they are often exposed which leads them to become troubled adults. We should be willing to consider many different points of view and then craft a plan that at least attempts to consider changes in the ways that we presently do things. Some argue that we must have restrictions on who is able to migrate to our country in the interest of national safety, but those same people do not believe that we should also place restrictions on gun sales and ownership. There is a bit of disconnect in such logic that we must study. Perhaps there is a middle ground for both issues if only we have the willingness to begin a process of national healing. I’m not sure what it will take to convince us of the need to try, but I believe that it is what we must do.

Resilience

Published on September 29, 2017September 25, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

I’ve written a great deal about the massive floods that inundated the city of Houston a month ago. The national media has featured multiple stories from varying points of view about the tragedy that befell my town. We will be working to rebuild for years and debating how best to prevent such destruction in the future for an even longer time. To say that all of us who live in Houston and surrounding areas have been deeply affected by what happened is an understatement. What has struck me most is the courage and resilience of the people with whom I share my part of the world as well as the outpouring of support and love that has been showered on us. I thought that I had written about most of the main themes regarding this event and its impact on human nature until I saw a photo from one of my Facebook friends that moved me so strongly that I have not been able to erase that image from my mind.

I still think of the woman who posted the picture as the little girl who lived across the street from me many years ago. She spent so many hours inside my house playing with my two daughters. She was always a very sweet child and I never minded having her around. She seemed to be smiling even in her sleep and she possessed a pleasant optimism about life that just felt so good. Her name is Priscilla and I never really forgot how much I liked her as the years marched by and we lost touch.

Eventually through the power of social media we found each other on Facebook and became friends again. I learned that she was happily married and had a handsome son of whom she was understandably proud. She lives in the same part of town that I do, and so one Christmas season I met up with her and my two daughters at a local restaurant. We celebrated our reunion with hours of conversation and recollections of happy memories. Now and again I encounter Priscilla at stores and eateries, but mostly I keep track of her via the Internet, and I enjoy hearing of her adventures with her family.

Not too long ago Priscilla made a move to her dream home in Pearland, a suburb of Houston. She excitedly kept her friends apprised of the decorating and landscaping that she and her husband undertook to make their house special. I was excited for her and enjoyed seeing all of the updates. So it was with a very heavy heart that I learned that Priscilla’s home was among those flooded by hurricane Harvey. In fact, the place took on water on the first day of the massive rains. It broke my heart to think of the sadness and fear that she must have been feeling.

I had forgotten that Priscilla is one of those people who is a survivor by nature. In almost no time she had managed to find a safe hotel in which to ride out the rest of the storm. She did her best to remain upbeat even in the face of so much uncertainty. It was as though she was more concerned about easing the fears of the rest of us than concentrating on her own fate. She kept us posted so that we would know that she and her family were secure and she exuded a confident belief that ultimately all would end well for them.

Almost as soon as the storms had moved from our area she was back at her house doing the work of cleaning out all of the muck that had found its way inside. She continued to send communications showing the progress that she and her family were making, somehow finding ways to joke about the pile of debris that grew and grew on their lawn. She always managed to allay our anxieties with photos of the cleaned out rooms now devoid of half of the sheetrock and all of the flooring. In essence she and her family had taken the place down to the studs, at least on the bottom half of the rooms.

I laughed at images of Priscilla’s garage which now housed a big screen television, a few lawn chairs, a barbecue smoker and a toilet. Priscilla had noted with a hint of sarcasm that the scene was about as redneck as one might ever get. She remained upbeat, at least publicly, and it was among the few times that I smiled rather than cried over what I witnessed after the storm.

Last week Priscilla posted an image that seemed to capture her spirit and that of my hometown. She and her family had moved back into their house even though there was still much work to be done. With a great deal of imagination she and her husband had created a makeshift kitchen that was a true sight to behold. The bottom cabinets were gone as was the flooring and even the sink. Only the sheetrock had been replaced. Instead of the normal amenities there were long folding tables serving as countertops, clear plastic bins providing cabinet storage, a camping sink acting as a station for washing dishes, and a new stainless steel stove gleaming like a beacon of hope. That photo spoke of Priscilla’s fighting spirit and resilience and at the moment that I saw it, she became for me the symbol of all that is good in our town. Hers was the story that I knew I needed to tell.

There is no doubt that Priscilla and so many others have suffered in ways that should not have happened. We all understand that we must address concerns about climate change, shoring up of levees around neighborhoods, improvements to dams, aggressive building in flood plains, increased attention to drainage systems and so forth. In our quest to reflect on what happened we cannot forget to applaud the human spirit that Priscilla so embodies. Rather than complaining or waiting for someone else to help, she and her family did indeed pull themselves up by their bootstraps. They tackled the hard work and found ways to make do until their world is rebuilt once again. They are models of how to react with positivity and inspiration in hard times.

I wish that Priscilla’s story and photos would be shared until they become viral because hers is a lesson that we all should strive to follow. Life is a series of events both wonderful and sometimes even horrific. We have little ability to control many things, but we always are in charge of how we react. Priscilla has chosen faith and joy and hope. We are all the better for seeing her example, and we somehow know that she will find a way to be just fine. We’d all do well to emulate her spirit. I’m thankful that she has been willing to share her journey. I know that I am humbled by what I have seen and I vow to attempt to be as resilient as she most assuredly is.

Filed Away Into Oblivion

Published on September 7, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

All across the Gulf Coast of southeast Texas from Corpus Christi to Beaumont/Port Arthur the devastation from hurricane Harvey has left a trail of destruction, tears and questions. Weary citizens have spent days upon days mucking out houses, washing flood soaked laundry, cleaning the everyday items that were once the fixtures of their households. Neighbors have helped neighbors. Family has embraced family. Strangers have opened their hearts and their wallets. The restoration has begun in earnest even as some areas still lie in the clutches of high water with no sign of when their residents may return.

It doesn’t seem to matter which part of Harvey’s path one might choose to explore. Virtually everywhere that the beastly storm chose to go there are entire neighborhoods or unlucky blocks where the evidence of its heartlessness is horrifyingly present in the endless piles of debris that rise several feet from the ground and on the vacant faces of those affected. Seeing the wreckage is mind numbing and heartbreaking. Witnessing the people who are attempting to deal with the unthinkable is unbearable. While there is a determination to rise from the waters, there is also a kind of pall over the landscape and wonder if the things that we took so for granted will ever be quite the same again.

It is estimated that only twenty percent of those whose homes and property was damaged had purchased flood insurance. Many of the affected areas had never before been inundated and there was little reason to compel homeowners to buy the policies. It will be up to the federal government and FEMA to help the families to rebuild, and the cost will no doubt be staggering. More disturbing will be the loss of a sense of security that even those who were spared are now feeling. We fret and worry over what will eventually become of all of us who endured the tornadoes and days of relentless downpours that poured fifty one inches of rain over our rooftops. The memories of one weather warning after another and all night watches over the water creeping toward our doors are still so fresh and terrifying. The sights and smells of the destruction seem to follow us even as we close our eyes and attempt to shower the grime from our bodies. The fear that we all experienced stalks us now that we attempt to go back to work and our usual routines.

As the sun shines once again in our part of the world, a monster hurricane threatens Florida and the east coast. Others have formed in the ocean. Fires burn in Montana, California and Oregon. It seems as if Mother Nature is unleashing her fury, and we begin to ask ourselves questions and consider what we may have done to be accomplices in the creation of such events. Are there proactive steps that we might take to change the course or the magnitude of climatic events in the future? These are the thoughts that fill our brains and none of the answers are easy or certain.

My husband likes to call himself a belt and suspenders kind of guy. In other words he is a very cautious sort. As such we expend large amounts of our income on various kinds of insurance policies and fraud protection systems. When the federal government first began selling flood insurance he signed up immediately even though we had never experienced water seeping inside any of our homes. We have continued to renew the policy year after year in spite the increasing cost and lack of use. Our thought as native Houstonians has been that we never quite know what strange occurrences my happen, and we want to be ready for the unexpected. I suspect that after Harvey the premium for our policy will go through the roof, but we will continue to purchase the safety net just in case, and I would recommend that everyone else do so as well. So many of those affected by the damage would be sleeping so much better with that little piece of added security in their pockets

The bigger questions involve infrastructure and building practices that may or may not have helped to prevent much of the damage. It has come to light for example that engineers from the Harris County Flood Control District outlined a plan to improve the drainage system of the Addicks and Barker dams all the way back in 1996. They presented their concerns and suggestions to the Army Corps of Engineers and nothing happened. The report was filed away. Today the tragedy that the study predicted in very clear terms has come to pass. The belief is that it might have been prevented at a cost of under ten million dollars rather than the billions it will take to rebuild the neighborhoods that sit under water today.

When we are cautious in the way we do things we sometimes never know if our efforts actually have some sort of effect or not. If wisdom had ruled the day and the money had been found and spent to improve the dams’ drainage capabilities there would be no flooding in the affected areas and we would wonder if we had really needed to expend all of the effort. That is the way of proactive measures. Often the occasion to use them never arises, but when it does we pat ourselves on the back for being so prescient.

We might argue forever about topics like climate change, building practices, drainage systems, and insurance, but our question becomes why we would ever want to take unnecessary chances. It is a fact that hurricane Harvey created an unprecedented event with its fifty one inches of rain. It is true that homes that have been high and dry for decades only flooded because the storm dumped an amount of water that no form of planning might have overcome, but I find myself wondering why we would want to just walk away from this experience without considering important changes that might actually help if and, God forbid, when we have to experience such an event again.

Our ancestors were more often than not a bit more inclined toward precautions than we were. The Addicks and Barker dams were built in the 1940s because of major flooding incidents in the city of Houston in 1929 and 1935. My mother and mother-in-law often spoke of those events and how they impacted the people who had endured them. The dams themselves were eventually located on land far from the center of the city and most of the population. Adjacent tracts were purchased to insure that there would be no habitation in the path of water. Sadly, as the city grew and sprawled across the landscape developers purchased plots next to the city owned land and built suburban neighborhoods without thought of what might happen if those dams were ever overrun with water in the kind of scenarios that experts had foreseen.

Back in the old days people avoided building too near the bayous and creeks. They elevated their homes on pillars. They terraced the lawns and built houses considerably higher than the level of the streets. Most of the neighborhoods and homes built by our parents and grandparents weathered the deluge just as they have done for decades. They were constructed in ways mindful of the presence of the network of bayous and creeks and rivers that crisscross the geography. Perhaps it would behoove us to consider such things just as they once did. There really should be an appropriate way of building for specific parts of the country that takes the possibilities of nature’s whimsy into consideration.

Of course there is the lurking question of the part that climate change plays in wreaking havoc across the globe. I suggest that instead of wasting our time arguing over whether or not it is true, we simply begin to change our ways just in case. What would it hurt to become more considerate of the world in which we live? Why can’t we all become more conscious of the ways that we use and waste the earth’s resources? Simple gestures multiplied millions of times will indeed make at least a small impact, and every little bit will help. We can be more like our parents who only allowed the television to run for so many hours a day. They scurried about the house turning off lights and appliances. They created compost heaps and recycled bottles. They were mostly being frugal, but their habits certainly helped to reduce waste and emissions of carbon dioxide.

I would never want to be accused of being one of those people who smugly suggest that somehow all of us who live in Harvey’s path are somehow responsible for what happened. Ours is a tragedy wrought by a storm that would have inundated any city or town regardless of what protective measure had been taken. Still, I believe in reflecting on tragedies and asking ourselves hard questions about what measures we may take in the future to alleviate at least some of the suffering. It is something that we must do. We have to insist that reports that predict disaster will never again be simply filed away into oblivion.

Real Life U

Published on May 18, 2017May 15, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

finaltiedyedblowdryer I attended a big graduation party for my grandson this weekend. We talked about all sorts of things and even had a few good laughs about my hair. I told all of the usual jokes about how difficult it is to arrange and the stories of actual insults that I have received from clueless people who simply don’t understand what it’s like to struggle with locks the texture of corn silk. Some people even took turns feeling how baby fine it is. I received all sorts of suggestions about what to do with it, but the fact is that it looks great only when my hair dressers fixes it. Trouble is that I can’t reproduce her coiffures at home. I simply don’t have the skills to puff it up and get it to lie right.

In truth I would love to be able to do a better job with my hair so I decided to search the Internet for ideas and came upon some YouTube videos done by a famous stylist. He demonstrated what type of blowdryer to use for my kind of hair and how to properly apply cremes that produce more volume in the hair shaft. I learned a great deal from him that I will certainly try, but I suspect that I would do even better if I had a personal coach who might watch me to correct any mistakes that I make in the process. After all we have such people on call at gyms. That got me to thinking about an entrepreneurial idea that someone should pursue. I call it Real Life U.

The truth is that we receive a particular type of education in schools that doesn’t include some of the most basic skills that we need. There used to be shop and woodworking classes but those have mostly gone the way of the buggy whip. My mother learned how to sew and cook in high school but few institutions of learning offer such courses anymore. I once knew a PE coach who brought old cars to the school and worked with some of the students after hours to repair them. They walked away with some very valuable hands on skills that they truly appreciated having. His little workshops were quite popular indeed. I wondered then and now why we don’t have more of that type of training available for everyone.

It’s possible to learn almost anything on the Internet, but because I am a very kinesthetic kind of person I need real lab experience before feeling comfortable that I have mastered a particular skill. I know that watching a picture helps but there are nuances with regard to the way one stands or positions the hands and so forth that often make a huge difference in success or failure. By having an actual building where one can go to learn how to do just about anything under the guidance of experts there can be opportunities for practice and trouble shooting.

I envision students of all ages learning everything from how to style hair (my personal favorite) to how to install lighting or repair plumbing. I can see franchises popping up all over the country just like the cooking classes and painting sessions that have become so popular. I know that I would be quite interested in enrolling to learn all sorts of things that never come up in our academically focused public schools. I am able to solve quadratic equations in four or five different ways but I have no idea how to properly repair a rotting board on a house.

Surely someone reading my blog is going to think, “Aha! This is my ticket to wealth.” I really believe that there is a market. Right now we have a number of specialized learning situations in far flung locations but this would be one stop shopping for everyone. Over time it would be easy to determine what subjects are most in demand. I suspect that people will love it. Groups might come for an evening to learn how to apply makeup for different occasions or for many weeks to master the skill of putting pot lights in a kitchen.

Who knew that escape rooms would become as popular as they have? They are now popping up everywhere with storefronts catering to the locals. I heard recently about a man in Minnesota who started a recreational business called Extreme Sandbox. He leases several acres of land and a fleet of heavy equipment and provides adults with the bucket list activity of a lifetime. For one hundred dollars they can operate a steamroller or a bulldozer. He averages at least four hundred customers a month and is doing so well that he recently opened a new location in north Texas near Dallas. He says that he gets almost as many women as men, and groups from various companies come for team building activities. They leave so excited that they often return multiple times on their own.

There are no doubt many many ideas for starting new and different kinds of businesses than anyone has even considered. It usually begins when someone like me has a problem that needs solving and they realize that there is really nobody out there addressing the issue adequately. Most inventions begin this way.

I don’t want to spend my twilight years investing my time in creating such things, but I am more than happy to pass along my idea of Real Life U to someone else who might be interested. With a bit of hard work and some marketing genius Real Life U might become the McDonald’s of leisure learning. Just remember me when I come to use your services and give me a little discount. All I really want is to have a safe place where I might learn how to tame my hair and get it to behave the way my hairdresser does without disparaging comments. Who knows, I may see other classes while I’m there and sign up for them as well. I’m crossing my fingers that someone out there takes the initiative. We are all waiting to learn how to do the things that will allow us to live happier and more complete lives. Get those old cars out there for someone to repair. Turn on the blow dryers for the styling challenged. Real Life U here we come! All hail our alma mater!

A Really Bad Day

Published on May 16, 2017May 15, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

7356295658_c810209e1d_b When my mother and I attempted to pay for our purchases the clerk at the register made it patently clear that she was irritated, even including an obvious eye roll as my mom fiddled inside her purse searching for the money that she was certain she had placed there before leaving the house. As the saleslady’s anger grew ever more palatable I suggested that we put the items on my credit card and worry about repayment later. Mama smiled at my ingeniousness and then noted that if we were going to do things that way she wanted to get another blouse that she had admired but had not brought enough cash to buy. Without even noticing how beet red the now furious cashier had become she dashed away and left me standing alone at the counter.

There were no other people waiting in line, and for a brief moment I considered lighting into the offensive woman who seemed intent on letting us know exactly how she was feeling without regard for the old saw that the customer is always right. Instead I casually began chatting her up. I thanked her for being so patient with my mother as though I had not noticed her obvious irritation. I explained that my niece was getting married in a few days and my mother was excited about walking down the aisle as her grandmother. I continued by noting that Mama had purchased an elegant suit several weeks earlier but it no longer fit because she had lost a great deal of weight. We had found out after a visit to the doctor that she had lung cancer that was very serious. Her clothes hung on her because the disease was ravaging her body. Without even taking a breath I mentioned that my mom also suffered from bipolar disorder and sometimes became quite confused. I ended my tale by once again commending the worker for being kind and noting that Mama loved her little outings to the store as well as being able to talk with other people.

By this time the woman’s eyes were filled with tears. She took my hands and quietly spoke of how she truly understood. She revealed that her own mother had died of cancer and she told me how much she missed those special times when the two of them had done things together. Her demeanor was now soft and loving and we shared a quick moment of kinship just before my mother came back with her blouse and a big smile. The saleslady was effusive in her new found kindness for Mama. She gave her coupons to bring down the final cost of her items. She wrapped the purchases in tissue paper and placed them in a special shopping bag. She ended the transaction by wishing my mother Godspeed.

As we walked to the car Mama commented on how sweet the clerk had been. She appeared not to have even noticed the dramatic change in her behavior. She collared a store manager who was standing near the exit and heaped effusive praise on the lady. The manager beamed with pride and promised my mom that he would surely make note of his employee’s exceptional customer service in her file.

We encounter so many people in our daily dealings. Not all of them are pleasant and when we find the surly ones it is usually tempting to read them the riot act. We make lots of assumptions about the individuals that we meet without ever really knowing them or allowing them to know us. It is often easier to respond to rudeness in kind rather than to attempt to diffuse the situation. There are indeed some individuals who are simply as mean as snakes and will never change, but in most cases displays of anger or irritation are not personal. Instead they are an indication of something brewing in the person’s life that is affecting the way they act. Time and again in both my private and professional dealings I have found myself in emotionally difficult situations in which I have somehow faced hostility for no apparent reason. When I take a deep breath and delve a bit deeper I almost always learn that the person screaming at me is shouldering incredible levels of stress and my encounter is only the last straw in a long series of difficulties. By putting myself in their shoes for a moment I have almost always been able to bring the tension down to a reasonable level.

As both a teacher and an administrator I more than once found myself listening to a parent who was ready to choke me. I generally allowed him/her to vent for a brief time and then countered the ugly comments by saying that I could tell by the powerful words how passionately the individual cared about the welfare of the child. I spoke to them as a parent who had now again found myself defending one of my girls. I noted that I was happy to know that we all cared very deeply for the student under discussion because that concern would translate itself into developing a useful plan for making the necessary changes for success. By ignoring the meanness and concentrating on our commonalities as people I was usually able to bring control to the situation and provide the parent with a satisfactory conclusion. I was not faking my understanding. I truly know that there are times when each of us comes undone by life’s events. At those moments we can only pray that the people with whom we interact will show us the concern that we need.

Whenever my mother was in a state of full blown mania she could be meaner than a junk yard dog. Her personality at such times was nothing like the almost angelic person that she really was. Her brain was out of balance, chemically causing her to behave in ways that even she did not like. Thank God she was generally surrounded by people who knew and loved her who ignored the rantings and ravings that spewed from her mouth. They would quietly call me to report that she wasn’t doing well and once I got her back on track with her medications she would return to the person who was adored by all of us who were lucky enough to bask in her unconditionally loving nature.

Of late we have seen a number of situations that went ridiculously out of control. People have been assaulted simply for delivering bad news. We’ve seen riots at airports and road rage that leads to murder. I would strongly suggest to everyone that we do our best to stay calm even in the most concerning circumstances. Someone has to maintain a cool head when times get tough or things will be said or done that are regretful. We should always attempt to understand the other person’s point of view before going off into a tirade of our own. Sometimes it is even best to just quietly step away when we realize that nothing that we do or say will quell the anger. Engaging in a war of words is never a solution. Demonstrating an attempt at making peace on the other hand will sometimes lead to a satisfactory resolution. Stay calm. Try to understand. Don’t take so many things personally. It may not be you who is having the really bad day.