More than a letter.

Last week, the school that I teach at ended it's first quarter and that means one thing: report cards. There is a sense of power as you check over your grade books, knowing that the percentage that you send in will either cause great joy or pain in the lives of the young people you spend a great amount of time with each day. I know that many people believe that there is some infallible system out there that gives each person the exact grade that they deserve, but I must break the bad news to you and say that it just isn't so. It's not too inconceivable that a teacher could just make up any grade they want and find ample reasons to justify failing or passing anyone they wish. I'm sure you're wondering if I've ever done this....

....and the answer is "No." But it does cross my mind the four times a year that I must submit grades. Too be honest, I hate the whole process. The kids I work with are impossible to describe in terms of one of the five letters I must assign to them. Is anyone worth a C any more or less than the next person an A or F? Each person I encounter is valuable in terms that can't be measured by memorizing and regurgitating on to a test. As I fill out grade sheets I tend to dwell on each person and think about them as an individual. As I add percentages up and give a letter grade to a name I am saddened a little each time it just doesn't quite add up to an "A." I imagine home lives, comments made throughout the year, the looks on faces during moments of revelation, and wonder if life has dealt them something maybe a little less than a fair hand.

So often we measure people by how much they produce, what they have, and where they come from. We say whether they have more or less worth based solely on the grade they get in a class. In my mind, those grades, what they produce, their belongings, and their background should mean nothing when assessing value. But I live in a world where it is my job to tell a kid that they haven't done well enough, even when I know they've done the best they can with what they have. Maybe it's time I move on to something else where that which I give has more to do with fulfilling needs rather than arbitrary worth (or lack-of).

New + Fast > Old + Slow?

I often like to take a long-cut on my drive to and from work. It doesn't take me much longer but it allows me to drive next to a river, a large lake teeming with birds, and my favorite, an old bridge. This old bridge is part of old Route 66 and was mentioned in the Grapes of Wrath. Something about it's history makes it a little more special to me and somehow life seems a little better when I get to drive past it. I say drive past it because it is now closed to traffic. Sometime last year it was blocked off and I suppose that it's in need of repair. Back in the days that it was open I would often get off of "new" 66 just so I could drive over the old bridge, usually stopping halfway to take it all in and imagine a different time, a time when it was a modern marvel and people were pleased with how much easier it made their lives. If this were the main mode of getting across the North Canadian River today, thousands of vehicles a day would be backed up waiting to cross an area that is today easily traversed at 55+ mph. People would totally flip out as they were being delayed from inhaling their next fast food meal.

We sure do love things to get done quickly these days. We care very little about the journey, can't wait for the process to be finished, and aren't be satisfied until the "doing" is done. But it seems that once it's all been achieved we are rushing on to the next thing, starting and finishing in a manner just like the last. It's want, want, want, and as quick as can be done is rarely quick enough.

Part of me wonders if we'd be better off if somehow we were forced to live in ages long passed, maybe even during a time before cool old bridges. We'd be forced to see life at a pace that would drive us crazy today, but we'd notice the details that are impossible to see at highway speeds. Our one hour drives would now take at least a day, our fast food meals would have to be replaced by slow simmering patience. We couldn't hurry, technology wouldn't exist to make that possible. Most people cringe when I talk to them of such things, but I see a sparkle in their eyes when I begin to talk about the benefits. If our lives were to slow down, if we didn't spend our lives in our separated-from-the-world living spaces, if we didn't confine ourselves to our traveling isolation boxes, we might actually have real relationships. Not to say we don't, but I don't think our idea of being close to someone is anything like it was back in a time where there were no radios and portable internet to keep our minds in a self-absorbed solo-state even when surrounded by others.

I love the old bridge. But even it, which today is considered to be not much more than ancient art, was a sign that we were starting to speed up our lives so that we could fit more and more in to them. But instead of quality, it brought quantity. Instead of really knowing people, we know what their status update says they are having for dinner. I'm starting to make myself feel guilty, and I'd probably see if any of my Facebook friends wanted to go for a walk and get some ice cream if I wasn't dying to watch this show I Tivo'd...

Wrong Turns and Surprises

This weekend a good friend who works in various parts of the world came for a visit and I had a chance to spend time talking with him about good old times, present struggles, and future hopes. As I was about to leave the small town where he grew up, we sat on the hood of my car and talked about where we were heading next in life. I sat there and thought about the roads we'd been down and about the detours that brought us to know each other. It was in this town that I hit what for many years seemed like a dead-end to the route I wanted for my life.

As the years have gone by I've learned that the events and experiences of my past have made me who I am and without them, yes even the ones that seemed to "take" the things I loved, my life would never have become this thing for which I am very thankful for. Reflection tells me that I never really lost anything, it seems as if doors were opened up that I never would have noticed if I wasn't forced to slow down and observe the world from a new perspective. In the end I gained things that I never knew existed.

Once I left, I decided to take a "long cut" down a winding country highway. It took me past old homestead farms, a town destroyed by a tornado and rebuilt not long after, a man walking a goat in a sweater, and a long forgotten luxury railcar. I began to think about the detours that had come up in my own journey, and how I never would have experienced so much of what makes me who I am if those side-excursions had never come about. I thanked God for things I once cursed Him for, and asked that if He has any more unexpected turns in my future that He at least throw in another goat in a sweater so I can take a picture next time.

The Root of America's Woes.

No, it's not healthcare, the economy, immigration, nor drug use. It's not obesity, race-relations, terrorism, nor climate change. I believe that the greatest issue facing the American people is the cause of many of those things. It is something that the President rarely addresses and there probably won't be any special sessions called to cover the issue. The thing that is hurting us the most is the American family. Or should I say, the lack of.

It's not my intention to provide you with statistics; you can find those easily enough from more qualified and credible sources elsewhere if that's what you want. What I want to do is argue that the high rate of broken families in America is leading to it's demise. Most of us probably know nearly as many families that have ended in divorce or separation as we do those that have stayed together. And even more so, most of the families around us are choosing to have their kids raised by adults on tv, movies, the internet, or video games.

I teach high school Sociology, which gives me an opportunity to have students discuss what it's like to be a young American. It's a class in which we discuss all areas of social relationships, cultures, socialization, etc., and in the end I probably benefit more from it that they do. The conclusion they often come to is that America is much different than it used to be, and even though there is much less hardship and much more technology than in the decades past, life isn't necessarily better. For most of human history, adults of the family and community passed down customs, values, and beliefs to the young, as they were aware that the young didn't come equipped with all that is necessary if one was to continue living in a stable society. But things have changed, and those that have produced the families aren't sticking around to instill the customs, values, and beliefs that are so essential to successful living. Instead, the young are being taught that immediate gratification, constant entertainment, entitlement, and moving-on-when-things-don't-feel-so-good is the way that life is to be lived. Sure, we say all of the right things, but words lose their meaning when the lives that back them up are constantly contradictory.

My students tell me that a 5 year old could easily survive alone these days as long there is food and a microwave within arm's reach. That, combined with a plethora of entertainment options (all produced by adults, and therefore trustworthy in the eyes of children) are enough to grow up on. Many of my students tell me that they were raised in a similar manner, and in the same sentence will tell me that's not how we were meant to survive. These 16-18 year-olds tell me that they'd rather die at 50 with a loving family and great friendships than live to be 85 and mostly alone but with all the entertainment technology that money can buy.

It's unfortunate that in the end they won't follow their own advise, and their kids will probably end up a lot like the generation that raised them: parentless children raised by peers and mass-entertainment.

I should've been a farmer.

"I should've been a farmer. Since the day I was born, I should have been a farmer. I love chickens and pigs ans ducks. I'm kind of fond of nanny goats, I am."  That's one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies, The Natural. It fits because I often feel that way, I sometimes regret that I grew up near LA and have spent most of my life in cities of a million+ people.

On weekends you'll often find me out in the middle of nowhere attending a farm auction. Rarely do I buy anything, there aren't many opportunities for me to put an electric fence, windmill, or sheep shears to use where I live. Once in a while I'll get lucky and find a giant tub of ancient license plates or a rusty moped that I'll take on as a project, but most of the time I'm just there for the drive down dusty roads and for the people I get to watch and listen to once I get there.There's just something different about country folk. As I look around at these auctions, I see the original recyclers. These people can make anything work with a little bailing wire, and they probably invented duct tape. They bid on field equipment, home furnishings, relics from the past, and most of the time will actually put these things to use. I look at these people and see strong, scarred, leathery hands, deep facial wrinkles, worn overalls, and old farm supply hats that sit way too high on their heads. But something about these people just tells you that they've got life figured out way more than us urbanites do. They all seem to know and are friendly with each other, drive trucks because they need too (not because it makes you look tough), and seem quite content with the simplest things. While I'm often looking at my phone checking the latest nonsense updates from people I barely know, they are silently observing the quality of the soil, the distant sky, or likely thinking about how they've got a fence to mend.

I think that if I was a farmer that my life would seem, well, productive. I'd be toiling with the land and animals that feed off of the land in hopes of producing sustenance for people that need it to survive. I don't think anything I do with my life right now has that kind of bearing. The "problems" that I have each day would most likely almost completely disappear. It would just be me and the land, and my sore back would be evidence each day that I actually did something. At dinner Ma would gather our 10 kids and put down the finest cornbread you ever tasted (corn that I grew). OK, enough dreaming, time to get back to whatever point I was attempting to make. All in all, the country life just seems simple and romantic, and the things I encounter on each drive I take never cease to amaze me. Just yesterday as I was leaving the dirt road pictured above, a cropduster buzzed me and then flew alongside me. At least I thought it was for me. I then realized that he was just doing what needed to be done on the farm for the day, no time for wistful "long-cuts" through the country (that's what I call my back-road adventures). These are a no-nonsense people. People that still value words and the handshakes that accompany them. They're a breed that raises a family once they've created it, and will do everything they can to help out a neighbor family that has fallen on hard times.

I wish we were all a little more like them, the people that will never read this because they're too busy doing things that actually matter. We'd probably all be at least a little happier and a little closer to what we were originally intended to be. So next time you see my car and notice it covered in red dust, you know I've just been spending a little time trying to get to know the people I want to be more like.

 (Video of my cropdusting kamikaze)

While the world wastes...we waste

We have it all. Really, we have everything we need. Heck, we've got everything they need. I really don't know of anyone in this country that doesn't have enough to survive, and that with excess. I've worked and lived with the homeless of America, and even most of them had enough to be warm, be fat, and still have enough for a little side entertainment. So why are so many in the world struggling to find enough calories to keep their bodies functioning properly, hard pressed to have shoes that keep the parasites out, and not able to access water that doesn't make their lives worse in the end?

We have the answer to their problems. We have enough "stuff" to solve almost everything. Survival isn't a question for 99% of us in America, but still we constantly gripe about the economy, and even when times are good our focus remains on getting more and more to add to the excess that we already have. All the while, there are people out there, people we know about, people we daily discuss in our social groups, who actually need help. We talk about helping them, we pray for them, we make movies about them, we distribute literature about them, but in the end they rarely become more than thoughts to us. What is it that has turned us into a people of word but not of action?

What if we sold everything and gave it to the poor? I remember a story where Jesus told a guy that the key to him finding what we was looking for was to do just that, sell everything and give the proceeds to those that needed it. If we have become like anyone, we have become like this guy. We want the key to having a successful life, but we question the wisdom that says to get rid of everything if you want to find it. Isn't money the evidence of success? You may be saying "no" but are you living that which you're saying? It's that much harder when the church that taught us what to believe is living as though money and status equal success and not living love as the key.

Yes, it is all that simple. Love your neighbor. Give yourself to the poor. We have the answer. We have what they need. Now all we have to do is actually share it.

Work, work...........work?

Today is my last day of doing nothing. Having been laid up the last few weeks because of yet another knee surgery, I'm glad that the doc has okay'd me for return to work. I had a lot of free time to do some serious thinking, but all in all I'm glad to be able to get back out there and interact with people. I actually miss the kids that I teach, but I might not give you the same answer at this time tomorrow.

As I am about to get back to work I ponder, well, work. Why do I work? What am I working for/towards? Unfortunately, for many people I'm not sure if they know the answer. Sure they'll tell you they're providing for their families, paying bills, saving for a full set of Pokemon cards, etc., but that's not really the question. This is a question of purpose, existence, time infinity. I've been sidetracked many times in my life, and probably I'll get duped into thinking about things other than what I believe are necessary, but ultimately I do have a purpose for "work." If you know me at all, you know that I believe the reason we exist is for relationship. We are here to befriend each other, serve each other, love one another. And it is for these things that I work. Yes, I do want to pay my bills and have food to eat, but even if I were not able to do those things I know I'd be able to work towards my true purpose.

I'm saddened though as time goes by and I realize that work has become more than just a way for people to support and know the community they interact with. People have turned the act work into their life's purpose. The people involved don't matter, the family they are supporting doesn't really matter, even the churches that many work for don't matter. The individual's worth has left the equation and numbers have replaced them. Those numbers can come in many ways, ranging from dollars raised and projects completed, to seats filled and this-many-whatevers-to-go. When relationships are no longer the focal point, what does any of it matter? When actual lives aren't the end point, what's the purpose of their existence?

This last weekend I was in Texas out at a ranch with a friend where he works. I was reminded by him that the point of it all isn't just work, even if that work is for the good of others. His simple challenge was to merely be obedient to God. As I talked about trying to help some people, he warned to not become arrogant about work, especially when that involves helping others. What he said makes so much sense, and if you've spent any time in probably any church, you've most likely heard the same thing many times, but like me, have forgotten the words just as quickly as they were uttered. We are to be obedient to the calling of God, and put others before (love others as) ourselves. Anything more than that will just serve to get in the way of what our life's work was intended to be.