All It Takes Is A Little Love

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Right now the media is focusing on things that do not matter while remaining silent about things that must be discussed. A case in point is rhe fanning and fainting over Biden’s mental condition in his final days as president while little or nothing is being noted regarding the multiple illegal actions that Trump has taken since his inauguration. It represents a bona fide case of changing the narrative to cover up an even more terrible situation.

Frankly I don’t care about what kind of mental condition Biden was in because ultimately somebody convinced him not to run for a second term. He was a lame duck from the moment that he hesitated while answering questions in his debate with Donald Trump. What Americans needed to hear from the press was a scathing assessment of the many lies that Trump told during the campaign. Now that Trump is president what really matters is pointing out the horrendous things that he does on an almost daily basis. The American people have the right to know that Trump is attempting to overturn amendments to the Constitution and laws that he thinks don’t matter. Instead the brouhaha over Biden’s mental condition continues as though somehow the fact that he was struggling is more important than the dismantling of our government that Trump is attempting with little or no pushback. 

I hate to say this but it appears that a rather large number of American citizens have not fully understood that there are supposed to be three branches of government, not one man forcing his views on everyone. Trump is behaving as though he gets to decide what is right and what is wrong. He has installed a group of highly unqualified individuals as members of his cabinet and the Republican members of Congress have supported his choices without question even though I would like to think that they do indeed know that some of the loyal yes men and women should not be in charge of anything. 

I’ve tried to be polite in my essays but I have had enough. Every single day brings more and more absurdity to our nation and all too often it is met with silence. History shows that when citizens look the other way when illegal actions are being committed, it becomes more and more certain that our freedoms will diminish and perhaps even disappear. It is an especially egregious attitide when we boast that we will not be affected by the present mistakes because it is doubtful that we will live long enough to endure the full force of the dismantling of important aspects of our democracy. 

As a nation the most economically sound plan for the future is to invest heavily in our young, not our richest citizens. Better education for everyone pays off for everyone. Keeping kids healthy with good food and easy medical access is far more important that providing the richest Americans with even more wealth. We should all be wanting to help fund programs that care for the least among us before we consider massive tax cuts for the rich. We should be doing everything possible to ensure that our youngest workers are not footing the bill so that oligarchs can keep increasing their bottom lines. How much money does anyone really need? Our focus should be on insuring that every American has food in the pantry, a doctor nearby that they can afford to see, and an education that will help them to find meaningful work. These are the things that should be part of a “big beautiful” spending bill. 

The silence from the media and the bending of the knee of Republicans is deafening. They are sending the American people in the wrong direction. We should all be concerned about climate change and asking what we must do to slow the process. We should all care about whether or not our fellow citizens who live in rural areas have access to medical care. We should all be investing heavily in our public schools. We should understand the truth about the value of the immigrants among us. The vast majority of them are working hard, paying taxes and getting very little from our coffers. It’s time we showed some respect for what they do instead of stereotyping them as gang members and criminals and sending them away without due process. 

A brief look at the news should demonstrate the reality that somehow the journalists on whom we rely for the truth have been silent. They can get away with writing a negative story about Joe Biden, but they run the risk of inflaming the ire of Trump if they actually push him with hard questions and state the truth in their presentation of the news. 

Our Founding Fathers knew what it was like to be under the thumb of an authoritarian government. They not only revolted but then created a government of the people that protected our right to freedom of speech, separation of church and state and a clear plan for three branches of government designed to keep each other honest with checks and balances. We have to demand a return to a democracy that is focused on all citizens, not just those devoted to enriching themselves beyond their needs. We have to demand that our Constitution is followed and that our press is free to speak out loudly whenever they see problems. If we wait too long we will find ourselves in a mess that will haunt our youngest citizens for all of their lives. We should not be a dynasty government where fear determines how we will be allowed to act. I want to hear the voices of freedom, not crickets!

John McCain was a great man. He was also an honorable man. While I did not always agree with his political views I saw him as the kind of person that I would trust and on whose wisdom I would be willing to rely. John McCain demonstrated the kind of values that I most admire while serving time in a prisoner of war camp in Vietnam, It was there that his courage and patriotism rose to the highest level. His behavior while under extreme torture should serve as a case study of the best qualities of humanity when under extreme pressure. 

John McCain impressed me again when he received the Republican party nomination for the presidency. In his acceptance speech at the convention he outlined the details of his moral compass claiming that they were developed because he was “blessed by misfortune.” He went on to describe how the horrors of his imprisonment gave him the gift of a new perspective about his fellow humans and about the world in general. From it he learned what it truly meant to sacrifice and maintain loyalty to the people and the values that would change the course of his life. 

I was particularly moved by John McCain’s life story. While he seemed to be destined to be a golden boy with advantages that most of us never enjoy, the time he spent in a prison camp changed his perspective. He realized the impact of suffering but also the alliances with others that must never be taken for granted. He was also aware of his own weaknesses and was fully prepared to admit to them throughout the rest of his life. He had every opportunity to take advantage of his family connections even while in the hands of his captors, but he chose to stand with his fellow prisoners rather than exert his power and influence. When his opponent in the presidential race was demeaned by a voter, McCain boldly asserted that Barack Obama was a good man. When given an opportunity to dismantle the ACA act known as Obama Care relied on his vote, McCain gave it a thumbs down to the chagrin of his fellow Republicans. 

I have been thinking about McCain’s assertion that he was “blessed by misfortune” and I have been contemplating my own life. I always tell people that I have been a changing, a person who has shifted from one pathway to another. When my father was alive I took our wealth for granted. I was probably even a bit pretentious when I compared our beautiful homes to those of other people that I knew. I had a kind of childish snobbery when I observed the differences between my family’s economic situation and theirs. I viewed my father’s college degree as some kind of proof of his superiority and by extension of mine. I was proud and tried to be kind but a certain internal haughtiness  tainted my kinship with others who seemed to come from a lower economic and educational state. 

The misfortune of losing my father was an horrific blow that I never really overcame, but in a strange kind of way it was also a blessing. My family’s reduced state of income and security taught me many lessons, the most important of which was to honor people without consideration of wealth or power or other superficial qualities. I became a far better and more understanding person than I might have otherwise been. 

When my mother first showed signs of her mental illness I was devastated. I wondered in my prayers why God had so abandoned her and our family. I had to put my anger aside and get her the care that she needed. I had no idea at the time that her mental health would become a lifetime project for me. In the process the “misfortune” strengthened me and helped me to feel more confident in my abilities to protect others. It also taught me to see the needs of others in ways that almost seemed uncanny. I became much more sympathetic to those who chronically suffer.

I have grown with every misfortune that has come my way and there have been many. Sometimes I am not so brave when I first realize that I am being challenged once again. I moan and complain that I have had more than my share of difficulties and then I roll up my sleeves and get back to work again just as John McCain always seemed to do. Even as life dealt him one tragedy after another he seemed to get stronger and more resolute. Misfortunes help us lean about ourselves and others. We better understand what was most important in this life because of the adverse experiences that we must endure. 

The world of social media has shown me that my own misfortunes are rather bland compared to others. I have never experienced homelessness or false imprisonment. I have never gone hungry or heard bombs blowing things apart in my neighborhood. Nobody has ever pushed me away because of the color of my skin or the religion that I have chosen to follow. There are so many more terrible experiences that my fellow humans are enduring that I have never known. I even realize that some misfortunes are so horrific that it would be almost impossible to find a blessing in them. I see that because my own misfortunes have been easy enough to overcome that they have blessed me with an awareness that I might otherwise have never known. It’s a hard way to learn and change but worth the pain. I must also remember to always be willing to help those whose misfortune is so overwhelming that they need assistance just to stay alive. My blessings require me to never turn my back on their needs.

I find myself thinking about my maternal grandfather quite often these days. I never met him. He died shorty before I was born. Nonetheless my mother often spoke of him with a tone of respect for his hard work and his wisdom. He had left his place of birth in an area of Eastern Europe that would eventually become the nation of Slovakia. 

At the time of my grandfather’s migration to the United States tensions were brewing in Europe. The area where he lived was ruled by the Austro-Hungarian empire and there were many reasons for him to want a better life for himself and my grandmother. The Hungarian wing of the government was pushing for uniformity of language and political thinking. The many languages of the differing areas had been outlawed in schools and all of public life. Everyone was commanded to speak only Hungarian and to tow the line of dominance by the ministers of the empire. 

My grandfather saw that he needed to leave his homeland and start a new life in a country with a democratic government. Thus he saved his money until he had set aside enough to pay for his passage across the Atlantic to America. He set his hopes on Houston, Texas, a somewhat fledgling town that often advertised its possibilities with a great deal of exaggeration in brochures sent all across Europe. Somehow the message made its way to my grandfather and soon he was making his way to the port in Galveston on a steamer ship from Bremen, Germany. 

My grandfather began his life in the new world with a job on a farm in the an area near the present day ship channel. He lived frugally in a boarding house quite near the area where the Houston Astros would one day build their baseball stadium. Within a year he had save enough to send for my grandmother and once she arrived their adventure in the United States would begin in earnest.

At first they both worked on the farm but eventually they would move around to wherever work was available. My grandfather officially earned his citizenship before the outbreak of World War I. While he was a bit old for service in the military he nonetheless had a draft card that originated from the Beaumont area of Texas. Shortly thereafter his first son was born to be followed by nine other babies in the nineteen twenties. Two of them would die as infants but the remaining eight would be a lively bunch and my grandfather and grandmother were both up to the task of caring for them. 

Grandpa worked diligently and saved every penny until he had purchased land in the east end of Houston. Then he paid cash to a builder to complete one room at a time until there was a home that still stands on North Adams Street. When the Great Depression devastated the country my grandfather kept his job at a meat packing plant. With a garden in back of the house and a cow that provided milk his children never missed a meal even if the offerings were sometimes meager by today’s standards. 

My mother spoke over and over again of her father’s love of the Untied States of America and the freedoms it gave him and his family. He urged his children to always cherish and protect their freedoms. He lead Sunday meetings in which he taught them about the importance of hard work and temperance in all things. He spoke of his own childhood and the country from which he came. He expressed his hopes that one day the people there might enjoy the same freedoms as those in the United States. He cried openly when Hitler invaded Czechoslovakia and cried again when the Soviets took charge of the country after World War II.

My mother described how their father would gather them around the radio whenever President Franklin D. Roosevelt or his wife spoke to the nation. Her father would speak of them as exemplars of leaders who cared about the people. He urged his children to be proud Americans and to never take their freedoms for granted even when they were taunted as “dirty Pollack immigrants” 

With the chaos of Trumps second presidency I have felt the kind of concern for my country that my grandfather so surely must have felt for his homeland. I too have cried many times as I have witnessed the ugly disregard for immigrants, minorities, women and people who have made different choices regarding their religion or sexualities. I have cringed at the threats being hurled at our freedoms, but I have also marveled at the courageous men and women who have been willing to risk speaking out, standing firm in their resolve to follow the Constitution. Somehow I believe that if my grandfather were still alive today he would exhort us to speak out to keep our nation intact. He would tell us to continue voicing our concerns and using the rights that have made this nation a haven for those who want a good and decent life for themselves and their children. 

My grandfather was grateful for the opportunity that the United States gave him with few restrictions. He literally just showed up one day and built a new life with little more pushback than a few insults hurled his way. He loved his country and that love has trickled down to me and my brothers and my children. When we protest or speak out it is only because my grandfather’s legacy continues to voice our need to vigilantly defend our right to speak our minds, a luxury that was denied to him in his homeland by tyrants. Grandpa taught me how fragile and precious our freedom can be. Now I will defend it and resist any efforts to weaken it for anyone. It is my duty. 

To Dr. Jill Biden, Former First Lady of the United States

Dear Jill,

I am writing to you as a woman, a wife, a mother and a fellow American. I cannot begin to express the level of admiration that I have for you. In a very small way I am much like you. I too was a teacher but I only reached the level of a Masters degree in my education. I truly appreciate the hard work that it took for you to earn a PhD all while raising a family and following your husband on his political journey. I know that your love of all people and your devotion to our nation will always be remembered with gratitude.

Right now you and I are on yet another similar journey. Both of our beloved husbands have been diagnosed with prostate cancer. While the love of your life has a much more advanced stage than mine I nonetheless can imagine the concern that you are feeling at this moment. I have also experienced so many questions about how my husband’s cancer came to advance as far as it has. It is as though people somehow expect us as wives to notice things early enough to rush our men to the nearest doctor. Of course hindsight is always twenty twenty and surely everyone understands that we would like nothing more than to catch the cancer in its earliest stages. 

I know that you will deal with the journey that lies ahead with grace. It is the way you always are but sometimes in this life we are asked to carry such heavy burdens that it almost becomes too much to bear. I admire your courage but also pray that you will know how much we all love you and your husband. The two of you took us through some of the darkest and most frightening times of our nation’s history. Sadly the response of far too many Americans has been to find fault with you and President Biden every step of the way. I cannot imagine how you bear up under the unfair criticism that comes from having to live so publicly. I truly hope that your journey in the coming months will afford a modicum of privacy without analysis while your husband fights to end the cancer that has invaded his body. 

You are a truly good woman and role model no matter what anyone says. You have endured great sorry and incredible successes along with President Biden. The present moment of our nation is so wrought with anger and lies that you must sometimes feel exhausted. I feel certain that history will nonetheless judge you and your husband to be just the panacea that we all needed during the dark times of Covid 19. I began to breathe more easily as soon as Joe was inaugurated and I loved seeing the two of you so lovingly interacting with each other and the American people. You brought joy to a sorrowful time. If not for the jealousy and vindictiveness of Donald Trump the many lies about you and your husband and your family would never have occurred. I am so so sorry that these terrible things happened to you even to the point of poking fun at your doctorate. 

I do not understand how we have reached this watershed moment in our country’s history. I will never comprehend why good people are thought to be bad and evil people are judged to be good. Up is down and down is up. There seems to be no sense to the sorrows of the world or the anger that is breaking our nation apart. Of all the times it has to be particularly difficult to you and President Biden because much of your lives have been dedicated to the people of the United States. How can it be that in the midst of so much turmoil and so many lies that you must also walk with your husband while doctors attempt to save his life. 

I know that President Biden is a deeply religious man. I believe that God will hear his prayers. I know that you will do whatever you need to do to protect him and help him to heal. I will be thinking of you as I too begin an uncertain journey with my husband. I will think of you each day that I sit in a waiting room while he receives his treatments. I will think of you when the days become long and uncertain. You will be in my thoughts and I will be asking God to shower his love on you and Joe. Both of you have served our nation so well and so unselfishly. Nobody will ever convince me that you are anything but a model of kindness and compassion. If you get angry at the invasion of your privacy I will understand and defend you. Somehow you have walked through fire over and over again with grace. May God be with you and with President Joe Biden. May you know that there are many of us who love you and wish you the best. 

Yours, 

Sharron Little Burnett

I have officially been retired from teaching or being a school administrator since the end of May in 2011. It’s difficult to believe that fourteen years have passed since I walked the halls of KIPP Houston High School. My former students are now in their thirties, forties and fifties. Many of them have children who are graduating from college or getting married. I find myself wondering where the time goes and how it seems like only yesterday that I was teaching pre-schoolers while I finished my degree and earned my certifications.

I’ve stood in so many classrooms in front of both eager and challenging students. I learned right away that each of them had a story that would tug at my heart. Some were eager to grab the opportunities of education. Others were so burdened with troubles that it was difficult for them to concentrate. Some had exceptional parents who gave them the foundations of a good life. Others were overwhelmed by family and personal situations that few of us would be able to navigate without help. I see their faces to this very day and I even keep in touch with many of them. 

Since retiring I have cultivated a new group of students. Only months after I had seemingly hung up my teaching spurs, I got an itch to be with students again. I felt a void in my life that could not be satisfied by trips or mornings sleeping in when the younger people in the world were scurrying off to work. I missed the challenges and the emotional rewards of helping a young person to master concepts and become a model adult. I searched for new ways to continue the vocation that seemed to be an essential part of my very existence.

I found a tutoring job that was incredible while it lasted but the funding for the program changed and so did the rules for which students I was allowed to help and even the means by which I would do so. I was unwilling to compromise the personalized assistance I had given the students to become a monitor while they worked canned computer programs over which I had no say. It seemed that I was finally retired in every sense of the word.

Life is filled with surprises, unexpected joys that come our way when we are least expecting them. Out of the blue I got a message from two ladies who were looking for someone to teach math to their sons. The boys had been homeschooled but the mothers realized that the math that they needed was slowly but surely becoming more and more difficult for them and for their boys. Thus began a journey that introduced me to a new set of students and kept me doing the thing that I most love. 

Those two boys are now men. I got them all the way through College Algebra and along the way picked up their siblings and a few of their friends. This year three of the younger crew are graduating from high school with dual credit degrees from community colleges. They are excitedly planning to continue their education in the coming school year. One of them has earned a degree from the Bauer School of Business at the University of Houston, earning the distinction as the youngest graduate of 2025 at the age of eighteen. Now I am teaching the siblings in the families and enjoying the experience of working with young people as much as I always have. 

I know for certain that the youngest members of our nation are far better and far more intelligent than many citizens believe them to be. The reality is that one generation after another has looked at the younger set with a suspicion that perhaps they are not as driven or polite as they should be. When I was a teen in the long ago the adults were horrified by our “hippy” ways. We were far too outspoken for their taste. They worried that we would not amount to much but somehow we survived just as today’s generation of adolescents and teens surely will as well. 

Most of us find our way out of the confusing days of growing up and become model citizens who work hard and act nice. So too have I watched the progress and success of the thousands of students whose lives I shared for a brief moment in time. I only know of a couple of them who took a wrong turn and ended up in jail. All the rest have demonstrated their mettle and created extraordinary lives for themselves and their families. Many of them have become teachers who are far better than I ever was which has made me so very proud. 

I still see those faces staring expectantly at me on the first day that we met. I would learn their strengths and attempt to shore up their weaknesses. I would privately cry about their sometimes overwhelming challenges and celebrate their victories. I carry them in my heart and think of them often. I hope with all of my being that they will always know how much I love them.