A Conundrum: Tolerating Intolerance

The pending arrival of the SCOTUS decision on gay marriage is crashing head-on into the controversy over the Confederate flag. I struggle with the aftermath of both these issues, no matter who wins, because the problem with “winning” is that the “other side” has to lose.

However, this piece is about neither of those issues, at least not directly, although I unequivocally support marriage equality. I also totally reject arguments that the stars and bars (I refuse to promote its status with capital letters) – and, by extension, the whole Civil War – is really about celebrating Southern heritage. I call B.S. and refer you to the linked article. (http://theweek.com/articles/562004/surprisingly-uncomplicated-racist-history-confederate-flag from The Week)

Some conservatives, and especially conservative Christians, are claiming that the so-called tolerant liberals who support marriage equality are intolerant of their faith-based opposition to the same, that not only their beliefs but they themselves are being discounted and, in their view, even discriminated against.

In the same way, I consider myself to be a tolerant person, but I confess that I am tempted to respond to what I perceive to be the intolerance of others with intolerance of my own. A shop owner who refuses services, or offers only surly service, to a person because of sexual orientation is not someone who will earn my patronage or respect. Neither do I have any use for racists, no matter how they try to camouflage their bigotry with disingenuous or irrelevant arguments.

However, I try to remind myself that basically good, decent people can be unenlightened, misinformed, ignorant, or just plain (have you noticed that plain and Palin are anagrams?) wrong. I also recognize that those who disagree with my positions might feel the same way about me. I also try to remind myself about Rule #24: agreeing or disagreeing with me doesn’t make you right — or wrong.*

The key to tolerance is respect for those with whom you disagree, (even if you believe that THEY are failing to respect you in turn) not necessarily their opinions or their arguments, but them as people, entitled to their own misguided notions (as I am to mine, as you might see it). In the same way that I assume that any disagreements in philosophy or point of view are not personal, I assume that any contrary political positions are not aimed at me, but my positions.

What that does, I hope, is allow a return to civility, a willingness to accept that the ideas of others are worthy of consideration, because the holders of those opinions are worthy of respect as human beings, to accept that there is no single answer, no single solution. For that to truly happen, however, will require that all of us, no matter our position on the political spectrum or stance on an issue, must forgo anger at those with whom we disagree. Sadly, we have too often deteriorated from “I believe I’m right” to “I’m morally superior and you’re not only stupid but evil.” We, and our opinions, all come from different places, places that color our perceptions of both events and each other. We must be willing to at least listen to those who think differently and not confine ourselves to our personal echo chamber.

Nothing in this (increasingly) complex world is so simple that there is no room for debate, disagreement, or alternative thinking. You can claim the moral high ground, but if you look across the valley you’ll see at least one other camp on another mountain. I suggest that if both can’t be right it is equally likely that neither is, at least not completely. I have written about this before, but before scorching the earth of someone with whom you disagree, pose the question, “What if I’m wrong?”

Bottom line: we are all entitled to our thoughts and opinions, no matter how misguided, but we also all have a responsibility to play nicely with the others who inhabit our sandbox. It doesn’t cost extra, after all.

* Rules 2, 11, 12, 19, 23, 26, 40, 41, & 44 could be considered relevant here, as well.

Yes, I know my self-imposed hiatus did not last long. Maybe I should have threatened to quit writing sooner!

Trying to Teach Pigs to Sing

OR Why I Haven’t Been Writing

Regular readers and followers have probably noticed that I’ve been on an extended hiatus from this blog, as well as my others. 

The softball blog will actually pick up as we start to move into that season (really it’s already begun), but that’s a specialized project for a limited audience. I may also revisit my Hancock blog from time to time, but I need to generate more positive feelings for even that to happen.

You might wonder why. Or you might not care, but I’m going to share my reasons anyway. Actually, that’s not completely true. I have started several pieces, all of which sit as drafts, awaiting motivation to polish and publish. Others are percolating in my brain, as it drifts from one dark cloud to the next.

The fact is, that for some time now I have been consistently too depressed about the state of political and world affairs to add my thoughts to the increasing cacophony of certitude pervading social media. Maybe I should just give up Facebook, where people actually cheered the entrance of Donald Trump into the presidential race. That is just one of the thread topics I don’t add on to, because it wouldn’t do any good. I mean, if you take that bombastic buffoon seriously, what could I possibly say that would make you think (differently).

Now we have the posts about Charleston. Apparently there were insufficient victims victims to make some people consider that this tragedy is symptomatic of a problem worth solving, or worth at least discussing solutions. Even worse, many of those same people so resistant to recognizing that there IS a problem and that we need to actively search for a solution have also regularly offered posts suggesting that we have solved the problem of racism in this country, that racism is no more than an excuse for a lack of success.

I refuse to swim in those threads either. What would be the point? People with that mindset truly have set minds. Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their mind cannot change anything. — George Bernard Shaw

I remember a button we peddled back in the day to raise money for political candidates; of course, that was before we had solved sexism and sex discrimination, like we’ve solved racism. The button read: Don’t try to teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time and annoys the pig.

Sales were brisk, but back in those younger, still idealistic days, I confess that I nevertheless DID keep trying to teach pigs to sing. Today, as I read the proud displays of ignorance on Facebook and elsewhere, I realize that I also did, indeed, waste my time and (probably) annoy the pigs.

For any number of reasons, I have narrowed my focus. The most important reason? I have a granddaughter (thus the Fathers Day hook for this piece) for whom I would throw myself in front of a train. She is my focus now. Because she will need her family and would be negatively impacted by the loss of any of those people who are, and will continue to be, her safety net, I will do whatever I can for them, as well. Not that this represents any sacrifice on my part, because I also love them.

But I’m done trying to teach pigs to sing, so don’t expect a whole lot of new content from this space, at least until I become less disheartened. I don’t know when that will be. I may be sporadically and randomly inspired to throw in a thought or two, but only if it doesn’t take away from the (increasingly limited) energy that I’m saving for one little girl.

Taking a Flyer OR No Fear of Flying

I just finished a 6-week sub gig at Lindbergh High School, filling in for a teacher on maternity leave. That it has taken me a week to put this blog-entry to bed is just one indication of how tired I was at the end of the job. Thanks to Ronni Zagora for trusting me with her kids. It was a pleasure and an honor.

I am embarrassed at just how quickly I had forgotten just how much work teaching is. This was not that tough a gig (3 AP USHistory & 1 General Psychology), with an already prepared calendar and assessments (for the history) and an enviable schedule. (Hint: subbing for the department chair is probably a good strategy if you can manage it.) I used to be critical of teachers-turned-administrators who began making demands on their staff. “Don’t they remember how tough this job is?” I would snarl to myself, or anyone else within earshot. Sorry about that, and for not always recognizing that their job is also hard.

I hope you’re not expecting some critical expose of public schools in general or Lindbergh in particular. I have not one bad, or even critical, thing to say about my experience there. One thing about subbing (or guest speaking): If the students respect the teacher in whose classroom you're working, you'll almost certainly have a good day (or in my case, 6 weeks). 

The kids were fantastic; I didn’t have even a sniff of anything that could be called a discipline problem. The students were respectful and at least responsive, if not always super motivated. They were, after all, high school juniors and seniors (and seniors, especially this time of year, are pretty much done). It took a couple days for me to get my “sea-legs” back (perhaps not the most apt metaphor for a school with an airborne mascot), but I was teaching in my wheelhouse and quickly found my rhythm.

Nor did the kids didn’t seem to mind the passive learning to which they were subjected. I did thank them for their patience on the last day of the “Berndt Talking Tour.” I mean, anyone who knows me knows that if I can do one thing, it’s talk. Press the “On” button and away I go. I remember showing an early baby picture of Nicci, and having one student say, “She looks just like you, her mouth is open.” I’d have been more insulted had it not been so true.

The social studies faculty (with whom I had the most contact) were incredibly warm and welcoming. Even though I’m (still) an introvert, I quickly felt a comfortable kinship. And once I was able to find my way to the office without a Sherpa or leaving breadcrumbs, I also had pleasant, helpful encounters with the support staff. Everyone struck me as competent, although if I really met an administrator, I don’t remember him/her. I’m excited for my former student, and my current friend, Dr. Eric Cochran, as he takes over the (challenging) principal job next year. I’m confident he’ll be great.

One thing I learned, or at least reinforced, is that I absolutely made the right call a couple years ago when I submitted my final letter of retirement and decided my time had come. I had only a few misgivings at the time, and none now. I’m glad I did not dishonor the profession of which I am so proud to have been a part by coasting to the end of my career for another year or two. I’m proud of that career and what I accomplished in it. However, I’m also proud that I recognized when it was time to go, not because I was lazy or had lost my dedication or skills, but because I knew that I no longer had the energy to do the job the way I believe it needs to be done, and, more importantly, the way kids deserve to have it done.

When talking about my decision to really retire, I previously used the party-host analogy. I’m updating that analogy to fast-food. As a sub, even a long-term sub, I was the teaching equivalent of fast food. The kids didn’t starve, but what our patrons (students) need are nutritious, home-cooked meals. I’ll do in a pinch, but even with a selection of “healthy choices” on the menu, it’s not in anyone’s best interests to subsist on fast food.

I may have more to say down the road, as I make generalizations about teaching and education from this added perspective, but I had a great time at an excellent school and I’m grateful to Keith Cochran for thinking (and taking care) of me and recruiting me to spend time with him and the Flyers. Based on my experience, I have no doubt that these young men and women will truly soar.

New Memories Under Construction

Forgive the over-long hiatus. It’s embarrassing to admit just how quickly I forgot how much work is the art of teaching. I’m currently filling in on a maternity leave at Lindbergh High School (where Hancock connections show up almost daily). I will then resume more regular posts, assuming I have think I have something relevant to say.

Thanks for your patience.

Thanks for your service

This is an edited update of a blog piece from last week. It’s edited to include a link to an article provided by a friend of mine, Chris Counts, in response to my original. (http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/please-don’t-thank-me-for-my-service/ar-BBhPFEn) If you don’t want to read the whole piece (it’s not that long and worthwhile, IMO), it essentially confirms my original misgivings, at least for some vets. In addition, this updated version will be (re)posted on Facebook as a stand-alone article, and not, like the last time, as part of the “Comments” section to my original Facebook question/post. This typeface and style will denote the additions to the regular piece.

In part due to smarmy radio and television talking heads and politicians making a show of their patriotism by constantly thanking all past and present military for their service, I came to question whether “Thanks for your service” was always appropriate and well received. It seemed, to me, to have become sort of a pro forma statement, so I posted the following question on Facebook:

I have a question for my formers who are, or were, in the military. I had occasion to briefly interact with the son of a friend (also a former) who is currently serving. Because of my friendship with his mom, I've known him for a while and we've met before (didn't need to be introduced). After a brief conversation, we were saying our good-byes and I thanked him for his service. While sincere, that expression has seemed to become such a catch-phrase used so often that it sounds almost meaninglessly automatic, and, therefore, discounted. What is your reaction to being thanked in this way? Or am I overthinking again?

It would appear that, as is my wont, I was, indeed, overthinking – again.

What became clear was not only that is that statement well-received, the gratitude expressed is at least matched by the pride in their service, whether or not they view it as a sacrifice. Even when not seen as any kind personal sacrifice on their part, they recognized that for many of their brothers and sisters (both literal and in-arms), the service was indeed a sacrifice that deserves recognition.

There will always be exceptions, of course, but I hope, and do believe, that we have progressed as a country to the point where we can appreciate our servicemen and women while still, when necessary, separating their efforts on our behalf from whatever political decisions made by our government put them in harm’s way. The fact that they may have benefitted personally or professionally from their service does not discount its value to the rest of us.

So I will, when the opportunity presents itself, continue to express my thanks to our military men and women for their service to our country. That small token is the least that I can do. I will continue to support charities like The Wounded Warrior Project or St. Louis Honor Flight. Beyond that, I would hope that our politicians start doing more than wearing flag lapel pins and making speeches around election time; instead I hope they start keeping the promises, both implicit and implied, that have made not only to our soldiers but their families, as well (http://bobberndt.blogspot.com/2014/05/ought-to-be-no-brainer.html). That will take money and can’t be funded simply by cutting budgets or eliminating wasteful spending. We need to start recognizing the true and ongoing cost of maintaining – and supporting – our military and make decisions based on those numbers, not imaginary ones.

As one of the original commenters, a young man who has actually served, noted, it’s your sincerity that makes the difference. Any gratitude for anything, sincerely expressed, might be misunderstood or misinterpreted, but should never be a cause for regret or second-guessing. It is your responsibility to make sure that’s the case, however.

In the meantime, to all my friends and formers, as well as their families and extended families, my sincere thanks and appreciation for your service.

The Fallacious Fear of The Nanny State

Fear of an ever-encroaching “Nanny State” has been a common theme among conservatives for a number of years, as they bemoan the decline of personal and the growth of government responsibility, the loss of liberty to do what you want when you want, the right to the consequences of your own actions. I get it in theory, but there seems to me to be a fallacy in that thinking, one that has been brought to the fore as over the weekend GOP contenders Rand Paul and Chris Christie pandered with their answers about vaccinations. I was most disappointed with Christie who at least claims to be a “Damn the consequences, here’s what I believe” kind of politician.

There used to be another libertarian axiom, “Your freedom stops at the tip of my nose.” Those who claim to be most fearful of the growing nanny state seem to have forgotten, or just deliberately ignore (as so many seem to do with that sciencey stuff) such a concept. Too many of those trying to reclaim the primacy of personal responsibility ignore the far-reaching consequences of the irresponsible. It’s not government overreach if the majority are being protected from actions of the few that put us at risk.

I’d be happy to support your right to drive 110 mph (without a seat belt) if you guarantee that you will travel alone on this highway to hell and pay for the cleanup costs and damage to the infrastructure.

You don’t want to wear a helmet riding your motorcycle? Fine, I concede your right, but promise to die instead of living for months in a brain-dead coma, driving up health care costs for everyone (to say nothing of creating mental anguish for those who care about you).

Don’t want health insurance? Okay, but then don’t expect the hospital ER to treat you when you’re sick or injured. There is no such thing as “free care.” Someone is paying for it, and for a long time it’s been those who had health insurance. It’s why conservatives from the Heritage Foundation proposed mandatory coverage to solve what they called the “free rider” problem.

The ironic coalition of ultra liberals and anti-government conservatives joining forces in the anti-vax movement is mind boggling, but as long as the wackos are willing to solely associate (and infect) each other and not put at risk children with compromised immune systems, as long as they isolate their epidemic to their own group, I’ll grudgingly accede to their misguided notions. However, we protect children from bad parenting on so many other levels (and, having seen too much of the negative results of irresponsible parents firsthand, I might argue not often enough), I have my doubts about even this. And who will be paying for the children permanently damaged by their parents’ failure to vaccinate them? All of us.

I am a live and let live kind of person, but our society has become too interconnected, too complex, to allow the few to take actions that jeopardize the well-being of the many. It is never just your mess, never just your problem. The fallout from individual irresponsibility spreads throughout society. It may not have been what John Donne was really talking about when wrote “No man is an island,” but we do have obligations to our fellow human beings, even if those obligations interfere with what we want to claim as rights. It is the price we pay to live in the world today. Your claim to a freedom that jeopardizes my, or a loved one’s, health, safety, security, or future creates a problem that is beyond just you, a conflict that must be resolved in favor of the majority.

Any concept, pushed to its logical extreme, can be ridiculed, of course. That is precisely the tactic used by both fringes, to advocate for the positions of those who want either no government involvement or those who want the government to solve every problem. But the re-emergence of measles offers us the opportunity to discuss rationally the role and limits of government rules and regulations, as long as we don’t allow the slogan masters to slam the “nanny state” or “my freedom, my choice” doors in our faces.