WESTERN BYROADS

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

The roads below weave endless lines,

While far above we love the signs

Of purpose in these random rubs

Across a sun-bleached land of scrub.

Like furrows plowed with no intent,

The routes stretch on without relent

Until a sudden end arrives

So quickly motives won’t survive.

From far above they look like Mars

Journeys lost among the stars.

Did humans really build these roads?

Perhaps they spell out secret codes?

Each groove a story line untold

Of puffs of dust on trails to gold,

Or noble moves in God’s great plan

Amidst the miles of barren land.

I contemplate their mysteries,

Knowing well that some old man

Could tell their history.

No youngster could have drawn these lines,

But old men’s faces show such signs

Of bygone life and worn out creases.

Yet nothing ever truly ceases.

All roads lead to some salvation,

But learning whose is divination.

J. Bowen 11/18/15

My Sweet Seaweed Maiden

By Jeff – July 2016

I can’t quite remember

What inspsired that day,

Or why we were thinking

You’d look good that way.

But the moment still holds me

Near when we first met,

My seaweeded maiden

Decorated by bet.

Our emotions ran strong.

Youth quickened our pace.

Now the feelings rest gently

In the smile on your face.

So the image abides

Like some digital ghost.

Even though we got lost

On the way to the coast,

The picture can find us

And bring us back home

To a place that reminds us

Of the feelings we own.

         

 Competition and Cooperation Go Together in Learning

Years ago at my elementary school, we used to play marbles at recess.  The rules were a variation on pool, and the winner took all.  What made this running competition unique was that our teacher, Miss Magnusson, a towering woman of Nordic heritage, loved to play too.  She won more than her share, and kept her winnings in a large sock.  At the end of the day, she always made us line up to shake hands with her.  She told us this was to show there were no hard feelings.    

Now I realize that Miss Magnusson was watching how we interacted as we played the game.  She was subtly guiding our social adjustment.   Her handshake was about sportsmanship.   Early on, we found that competition arouses great passions.  It tempts us to think in terms of winning or losing, good versus bad, and we/they orientations.

What is more, I learned that competitions live by rules.  Too much creativity or free thinking earns penalties because it may risk unfair advantages and muddy purposes.  Outdoing others is fruitless unless everyone is doing the same thing.  Also, I found that cooperation is built into not just team sports, but into nearly every classroom endeavor.  Nowadays this is often called project-based learning.   

 As high school students, we vied for grades and test scores, girls’ attentions, contest prizes, and ultimately for college admission.  Cooperation paid off as well.   For instance, without regular help from my math-savvy girlfriend, I never could have made it through algebra.  Thinking back, I realize that the key to success in school life was figuring out when and how to compete or cooperate to reach a goal.  I learned that winning and losing are not a zero-sum game, but that both can produce a positive and lasting result.  Teachers and parents alike can help children realize this.

About 30 years ago, Alfie Kohn’s research provided telling insights.  Cooperation, he observed, nurtures high achievement and performance, while competition among children can generate anxiety and low self-

esteem.  Nonetheless, we find or invent competitive contests for almost any activity or skill.  Think of the “Last Survivor” or the “Great Cook-Off”.   In almost any field, Americans see competition as the ideal way to measure self-worth or success.  Our cultural obsession is to win. 

Kohn distinguishes between intentional and structural competition.  Intentions, he says, are the real villain because they compel us to be number one regardless of the psychological cost to others or ourselves.  Sound familiar?

My point is that competition and cooperation are both learned, although I believe our personalities may predispose us more toward one than the other.  From our earliest years on, these two motives intertwine and share a big impact on youthful attitudes and destinies.  

I urge us to seek consistency.  It is no small task. We teach children to compete on teams and to subordinate individual interests to those of the group, but we may contradict this by glorifying individual efforts and unique performances.  Trophies may be awarded for teamwork, but scholarships are reserved for the individual and not the group. We are immensely entertained by athletic contests.  We depend on grading as the best measure of academic accomplishments.  However, we bemoan the displacement of learning goals and the psychological scars these features can create.  The winning record of the high school’s football team thrills us, yet the bullying that results from social competition may horrify us.

 Competition and cooperation are by no means opposites; they feed one another.  We can help our children gain perspective by showing them that success and failure are not truly about keeping score.  Neither winning nor losing should be as important than how the game is played.     

 

JMB

1/30/17

 Time and Money Untangled

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

The relationship between time and money is both confounding and fascinating.  Recent survey research suggests that people appreciate or prefer time over money, that is unless they are truly impoverished.  Older folks opt for having more time at the expense of less money as they age.  They may be recognizing their supplies of money dwindle as their free time expands once they vacate the workday world.  As for busy unretired wage earners, the metaphor that time is money makes more sense, or maybe it's cents?  As economic configurations grow more diverse, and semi-retirement becomes a way of life, the parameters for time and money are becoming much more complicated.

  I have spent years trying to figure out what motivates people more – time or money.   Money is what some call a “complexifier” when applied to motivation. Within our minds it can be either an external (extrinsic) or an internal (intrinsic) motivator – or both!  We spend money to meet our needs for self-actualization, that is to help us become the best person we can be through self-improvement or fulfillment, or by helping others, but we also allocate our resources to on extrinsic factors like protecting ourselves, maintaining security, and certainly to gain the approval or support of others. In short, money pivots on purpose and its GPS is motivation.  But how does it relate to time?

Time and dollars are both resources, but money is more so a commodity than time.  Both are potentially available to all, so both are resources, but dollars come closer to what you can can purchase, own, and physically possess as an asset.  Both can be invested, but the payback differs in ways that highlight their differences and our values.  One can produce or shrink the other, though we usually think of time as quality, and money as quantity.  We can buy time, but not always does money make it affordable.  We lose time but inefficiency is more the cause than is money even though the result may be a loss of money.

Interestingly, recent retail sales patterns are telling us that millenials in particular are spending less on tangible goods found on store shelves, and more on experiences like trips, restaurants, or theaters.  To enable this, purchasing goods or services online, or in packaged combinations delivered to our door, is gaining broad appeal across all age groups, but in particular among those whose time is limited because of work.

 The definition of workplace is unbending the connections between time and money as technology has made earning income from home more feasible and convenient.  We can earn free time as a fringe benefit from working, but it seems that Americans tend to want or need less extra time off than in many other parts of the world, like France for instance, where a four-day work week is the norm.  The more we focus on how time is used relative to compensation, the more attention we are apparently giving to quality of life.  And at least in the financially resourced parts of the world, the less attention we are paying to earning enough money needed for survival.

The dynamic relationship between time and money is nowhere more evident or more contentious than in traditional collective bargaining.  In my experience, the benefits associated with time and the benefits of financial compensation have an inverse relationship within an overall budgetary price tag.  I found that unions like to think contracts should not be impeded by any conditional connection between time and money.  Especially where medical insurance benefits come into play at the bargaining table, the negotiations often grow intense because, as bargaining agents for both employers and employees understand, over the last decade or two, the cost of health benefits has outpaced the consumer price index for the combined cost of goods and services.

What about wasting and hoarding?  We can waste both time and money, but hoarding money is easier than doing so for time because relentlessly it passes, and it cannot really be stopped or reversed.  Time lasts forever, yet money cannot because while both are quantifiable, we like to think that the world will cruise on after we are gone, but money won't, which is why we put it in trust so those who follow us will be assured it is preserved.  Of course, putting time in a trust fund doesn't work very well, possibly because it is more of a resource than a commodity.

When we steal or take time, it is typically not considered prosecutable thievery, but the same for money may lead to jail time.  Losing or finding time has its equivalent with money, but the implications differ.  Finding time seems more directly related to personal priorities because when you find it in one activity, you may well lose it in another.  While this doesn't stop us from trying to do several things at once, people like me are sequential thinkers, that is they make a choice to focus on doing one thing at a time.  Money found, on the other hand, may be a nice discovery, but by itself it does not betoken a priority, unless a Scrooge-like mentality makes earning coin an obsession.  Losing time may not mean you gain it elsewhere, though it suggests your speed or efficiency is deficient.  In other words, it is a temporal phenomenon.  No so much for losing money, which suggests you are negligent or have made a bad investment.

 Finding money and time nested together carries double weighted implications, as does losing time and money, but beware they do not always vary in a mated way.  You can easily gain time and lose money, and conversely lose time but gain money.  The relationships, as already mentioned, revolve on purpose and motives -- and on how money and time are measured.

Do money and time link to our health?  Yes of course, but in some ways we might not expect.  With money we can pay for treatments to medical problems.  And it may take a lot of time to heal.  When money and time are restricted, it can spawn emotional as well as physical issues, but as of late our health research has concentrated on the villain of stress as a cause for poor mental and physical health.  Both lack of money and lack of time produce stress, and indeed having too much unproductive time on one's hands can also create stress.  I am less sure about having too much money because I have not experienced its emotional liabilities.  What is clearer to me, and to those conducting appropriate research on the topic, is that giving away these resources to others for so-called charitable purposes produces positive health benefits of all kinds.  Motives count for sure, so charitable work as a tax dodge may not effect positive health as readily as doing so out of the true goodness of one's heart.  In any case, both time and money work in parallel when it comes to volunteering or contributing to help the less fortunate.

So what balance between these two valuable resources of time and money can be struck?  I suggest an analogy.  Let's say you are trying to connect two rods together using two bolts at the ends of the items.  If you tighten one bolt all the way, the other gets misaligned and won't go through its channel, or tighten properly.  The solution is to leave one in place but loose, while the other is threaded.  Then tighten each in turn, little by little.  The analogy fits because money and time work well as partners when you use them together for your intended purpose, incrementally and in balance. The watchword for both time and money, particularly when used in the same sentence, is temperance.

1/27/16

 Why Is the Best Question  

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

 We are much better at answering questions of who, what, when and where than answering WHY.  Motives and interpretation lurk beneath the question why and this can muddy the waters for everyone.  It is natural to seek mindfulness and reason in the acts and ideas of others.  Yet just as predictably we lie to ourselves and others when we try to explain our own actions or beliefs.   If science is applied, the answers to why can be hypothesized and proven, but pursuits like romance and religion may shroud the answers in mystery.

Consider the whys found in the old song, “Tell me why the stars do shine, tell me why the ivy twines...."  The composer credits both love and God in his lyrics, but as science fiction writer Isaac Asimov observed, nuclear fusion and tropisms provide more grounded but less exciting answers.   Whatever your perspective, for me asking why has been a lifelong journey toward understanding.  

When we ask why, mostly we hope for simple, specific answers. But when contentious problems or policy issues arise, the why question spawns not just philosophical disagreements, but sometimes warfare.  Active listening while remaining open-minded can help reduce risks.     

As a history teacher I urged my students to think long and hard about developing what we called essential questions without easy answers so their research might stimulate original thinking and real understanding.   Pushing them to ask why provoked blank stares at first but with guidance the students usually waded beyond simple yes, no, or could-be responses.  How I wish today's standardized state tests were designed to do this.

Why escapes us when we dehumanize others.  With disastrous implications given today's refugee exodus from Syria and Afghanistan, we try to answer why by assuming large groups of unidentified people have no minds at all.  We say they lack emotions, needs, or awareness like ours, and therefore may be no more than savages who could harm us.  However, when we meet and talk with them individually, a more sympathetic relationship usually comes to light.  We discover everyone is human after all.  

I experienced this revelation when I attended a multicultural education workshop some years ago.  The facilitator brought a culturally diverse group of individuals to the stage, and then, with their permission, she asked each person to state their name and tell the audience about the origins of their family.  Thus we became vividly aware of both their diversity and their universality.    

Another self-deception comes from giving human characteristics to inanimate objects or animals of all kinds.  A large photo of a silver-haired gorilla hangs on our wall.  A resident of the Buffalo Zoo, he seems to be smiling mischievously at anyone who passes by.  Actually, after taking a picture of him lying down, I hung the picture vertically, which had the effect of making him seem to smile.  I like to think he really is, but it is more likely he had a gas bubble. We want to make things human so we can explain them in our own terms.

By embracing the worlds of why, we can become depressingly negative if we focus just on ourselves ("Why me, God?"), or assertively upbeat ("Why can't we do this?").  I happen to believe that asking why is a direct route to learning.  It signals a curious mind, solves mysteries more than just creating them.  But it has its dangers when it tempts us to think we are right and others are stupid.   The best general rule for why-askers is to pose the question and then be ready to stop, reflect, and be honest about what we hear or see.   

What Belongs In The Dumpster?

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

Once in awhile we rent a one-ton dumpster and clear out our accumulating material possessions.  We don’t think of this as unloading junk because most of it is still in good condition, having been well cared for and maintained in its previous life.  There just isn’t enough room for it any longer.  When culling the stuff, we frequently benchmark our decisions by asking, “Would our grown kids or grandchildren want it?”  However, a knot in our decisions, if not our throats, appears when we think about whether our kids would look at something we decided to keep and exclaim, “Are you serious?” or “What the hell did they want or ever use this for?” and promptly throw it out – all this as they clean the house just before or after we pass on.

Something sorrowful stalks us when the dumpster lands in our yard for a week, despite the fact that my wife actually experiences intense pleasure from methodically clearing the decks, regardless of whether what falls overboard is technically hers or mine.  She thrives on orderliness.  Everything has its place.  I agree especially when I can’t locate something and fixate on finding it.  But when it comes to mass disposal it pains me to realize what I paid for so thoughtfully and with such fiscal commitment just a few years ago is now essentially worthless except to me.

Studies show people routinely overestimate the value of what they already own and are surprisingly reluctant to part with it.  Think about those reality TV shows where crusty geezers refuse to sell rusty car parts they have stored in musty sheds decades.  The same studies show people underestimate the value of other’s possessions.  After all the effort of putting price tags on items, two different worlds of value collide amidst bargaining at flea markets and yard sales.  Charities have to be choosy too, given space constraints and client needs, so instead of selling or donating, the easiest route might be the dumpster.  Ah, but it’s not.

The saddest part of “dumpstering” is my having to say goodbye to such a full-blown, rich collection of memories all at once.  Each object evokes a certain memory or association, a time and place one can no longer recapture except when looking at or actually using some object now due to sit in a dumpster out in the rain and in the dark.   From time to time, this painful image prompts me to regard estate auctioneers as carrion eaters.

Reluctantly we have to remind ourselves that material possessions of any kind have no intrinsic value other than what we impute to them.  If we all agreed gold and diamonds are utterly worthless, so they would become. Yet for those who remember the look in their loved one’s eyes when gifted with gold pendants or diamond rings, the memory is cherished.  Infused with such lasting symbolic value, our gifts literally turn into valuables.  

What is the bottom line for the dumpster squatting in the yard or driveway?  I guess it is that finding, keeping, losing and even weeping about value is a hefty part of life.  Whether we are incorrigible hoarders or dedicated purgers, the truth is we spend much of our lives sorting through values and figuring out what is worth keeping and what really belongs in the dumpster.  Just as a reminder, don’t leave your best values in storage until a dumpster arrives.  The best way to preserve and renew them is to use them!       

                       

Two Different Voyages

Today we are leaving for 10 days on a boat tour down the Danube River from Vienna ultimately by bus to Munich.  47 years ago I spent a summer in Europe after graduating from college.  We rented a Hillman Imp, stuffed five guys into it and traveled the British Isles.  On the Continent, two of us rented a VW Beetle and basically just headed out aimlessly.  The contrast between then and now is stunning.

Back in the day, as they say,  I slept in fields, abandoned buildings, or the damnably uncomfortable back seat of a VW Beetle.  I got food poisoning and the mumps.  I had my passport, clothes, and cash stolen.  I had no itinerary.  I had no easy way of maintaining contact with anyone stateside.  I took a raft of Kodak film pictures that were just plain bad.  I never quite knew where my next meal would be found.  Often I smelled bad for lack of showering.  Despite relying on the popular book “Europe on Five Dollars A Day”, in the end I ran out of money.

Now I about to travel down a beautiful river on a craft that offers a picture window view of shore from my bedroom.  Every meal is planned with top quality European cuisine.  Side trips every day are fully organized with guides and instructions.  I have a superb camera and a honed ability to use it.  I have a cell phone and internet connections that will keep me instantly linked to family in the states, with the entire world’s collection of information at my fingertips.  All my cash is secure and protected, but not much extra will be needed because most everything is paid in advance.  The boat even has a workout facility.  Best of all, my lifelong love and companion, who is a master at logistics with an acute eye for security, will be by my side.

The contrast with my experience a half century ago certainly says something about age, resources, and attitude toward security.  But it also involves a strange reversal that makes you stop and think.  Nowadays we define adventure as little more than poor planning.  A half century ago we defined planning as the major obstacle to adventure.  Bon Voyage!

Up and Down the River

·         Rivers, with their currents and directions, significantly predict our destinies.  Getting sold down the river means you were cheated.  Being sent up the river suggests you went to prison.  The former probably originated from sour land deals, while the latter surely refers to the Hudson River and a trip from NYC to Sing Sing, or Ossining where an infamous prison is located.  People in that boat find themselves in hot water, even though they are on a cold river.  Maybe they are  up a creek without a paddle, but one cannot be quite sure why that is always so bad because being swept downstream may quite enjoyable.  It is popularly known as going with the flow.  This is fine unless you are headed for a fall.   It’s best to stay philosophical about flow because, after all, pretty soon it will all be water under the bridge.  But there is another condition where you don't go much of anywhere at all.  Encountered on lakes or oceans more often than on a river,  you are becalmed.  Just remember, it is definitely less desirable to be stuck in the doldrums.  Then you are really going nowhere soon.   Drifting has a bunch of connotations, but I usually think of it as aimlessly wandering.  Still, drifting down  a river decidedly is positive if you think like Huck Finn; then it becomes an adventure.  In fact, tripping downstream or upstream can be either romantic, mysterious, or both.   Otherwise, why would composers write songs like “Cruising Down The River” (on a Sunday afternoon, with birds making love up above?) or  “Up A Lazy River”.  Why do song writers give rivers  names like Moon, Swanee, Deep?   Because it’s a great shorthand for communicating love, longing, or religious belief.  Not always is the romance a beautiful thing because some people woefully croon  “Cry Me A River“.  And as for “Old Man River”, well he’s just plain lazy and  keeps on rolling along;  that is, “Rollin’ on the River”.   Age really does have redeeming virtue. Consider the seasoned Tina Turner.  Her gyrations are never lazy.

     What happens on the typical cattle drive or mass migrations of wildebeests?  A river crossing, of course!   At that juncture we get into big trouble.  Just like us, the animals get caught in cross currents, or they wade into deep water that is over their heads.  Presumably they are not getting into the same kind of hot water as felons.   But far be it from me to throw cold water on the idea because we all have rivers to cross under many different circumstances.  When we reach the point of no return, then like Julius Ceasar in 49 A.D., have “crossed the Rubicon”.  If you don’t have a bridge over troubled water, then a river crossing becomes obligatory.  Hopefully, you don’t cross the line.   Since I am getting fairly close to that point, here is where I stop, tread water, and drop anchor.  There is no time for a river dance, but it might happen shortly because I can’t hold my water any longer.

Memory’s Anchor

Time is a river

With your life running through it.

The bends and the twists of the decades renew it.

As time never stops,

So the river flows through,

Relentlessly old, and refreshingly new.

You should know about anchors,

Those spots where you choose, 

To chain up to the truth without drifting loose.

Memory’s anchor

Is my greatest gift,

To prevent tipping over when currents grow swift.

Anchored in memory,

The calm will surround you,

You can dream a sweet dream or confirm what will ground you.

I am a fine anchor.

Time refuses to change me.

I’ll stay in the same place and will always remain me.

 As time takes you down toward the shores of the sea,

Lying deep in the riverbed is remembrance of me.

I will hold you awhile and when you feel strong,

Just pull up the anchor and take me along.

 

JMB 4/22/10

The Ike I Never Knew

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

Reference: Ike’s Spies by Stephen Ambrose. University Press of Mississippi (Jackson), 1981.

           

Recently I read a book titled "Ike's Spies", by Stephen Ambrose.  Ambrose is known as President Eisenhower's primary historian. Obviously he admired the man and tells his story using research that is superlative and richly detailed.  Ambrose's history is loaded with anecdotes, and definitely to his credit, the work is supported by documentation few others have used as well since the book's publication in 1981.   From it I learned certain things about President Eisenhower and life in the late 1940s and 50's that really surprised me.  In fact, you could preface these revelations with the observation, “Seriously? I never knew...."

Such findings, admittedly limited to one in-depth reference that reflects strong opinions, have redefined my viewpoints on Ike.  Certainly they have amplified my perspective on this period when I was under 10 years old.  Here's a short list of the revelations, absent any transitions.  Consider each one to be led by the phrase, I NEVER KNEW...

We had incredible inside information about the Nazis' impending maneuvers because the British broke their secret message code using a complex mechanical wonder called ULTRA.  At the same time,  it seems Adolf Hitler was a very skilled and daring military leader who would have succeeded on many fronts had it not been for ULTRA, but even more significantly because some of his generals arrogantly ignored his orders and could not be trusted (remember, some of them tried to assassinate him).  

We deliberately sacrificed thousands of American soldiers' lives so as not to tempt the Reich's leaders to think we had broken their code.

Eisenhower was deeply and enthusiastically fascinated with the use of secret agents and intelligence gathering.

We were almost insanely terrified of World War III being perpetrated by Communist Russia. Our distrust and fatalism about the spread of Communism was something like our regarding it as an EBOLA-like plague.  Our fear inflected the very highest policy levels, potentially influencing the mind and emotions of Eisenhower.

We allowed the CIA to become expansively, secretly manipulative throughout the 1950's. Eisenhower essentially sanctioned this, and much of it occurred because we so feared the spread of Communism.

We conducted overflights of Russia for 4 or 5 years BEFORE Gary Powers was shot down in his U-2 spy plane.  I didn't realize that each flight was mapped and rechecked personally by Eisenhower.  By the time Powers was shot from the sky, the use of satellites was well on the way to outdating the use of the U-2.   We were assuming that any U-2 hit by a missile would totally disintegrate, and our policy (but not our apparent practice) was not to give the pilots any parachute.  I had forgotten that Powers lived, was exchanged for a Russian master spy, and subsequently wrote about it.

Significant national prosperity in the 1950s was engendered by Eisenhower's steadfast insistence that spending on the military should be reduced, as should the size of the military.  Thereby inflation was curbed, taxes were held down, and the arms race was muted by Eisenhower's philosophy that simply adding more firepower to stockpiles would make little difference in the event of an all out nuclear war.  I didn't realize how promptly and severely this philosophy was reversed by both Nixon and Kennedy.

As early as 1953 we were spending significant taxpayers' dollars to try unsuccessfully to shore up the French in Indochina, in particular Vietnam, and our subsequent CIA operations in Vietnam put most of the pieces in place for future disasters that would occur in the oncoming decades.

Our country's master spy, to this day, was most likely Allen Dulles.  Nor did I know that one of our greatest undercover heroes, a real behind-the-scenes diplomatic manipulator, was Kim Roosevelt.  These last names are no coincidence.  They had powerful relatives. 

To an extraordinary, almost traitorous extent, J. Edgar Hoover undermined the CIA's initiatives; he was petty, jealous, and territorial where the FBI was concerned.

Our efforts to kill Castro and his brother Che Guevara. were bizarrely contrived and included reliance on the Mafia, even before Eisenhower had left office.  The Castros were well prepared with countermeasures because they watched and learned from the CIA's previous incursions in Guatemala.

American traitors simply handed over to the Russians the equivalent of our blueprints for making nuclear weapons.  Yes, those traitors, the Rosenbergs, were put to death, but not before there was stiff, prolonged legal resistance to doing so, and to this day residual confusion over whether they actually did what they were tried for.

Eisenhower was quite dependent on the counsel and support of his brothers who maintained high level policy influence throughout his administration.  Today, this would spawn vociferous opposition from Congress based on potential conflicts of interest.

Our intelligence information for at least a decade after WWII was typically undependable, and flat-out wrong, because we didn't pay enough attention to the details, to the actual gathering and comprehensive analysis of data.  When a mid-level bureaucrat in the bowels of the CIA finally started developing this more detailed and voluminous information, called National Intelligence Estimates, although they were seldom read all the way through, the result was a vastly improved array of actionable information.  I never knew that our lack of good information foolishly convinced us for several needless years that the Russians were on the verge of igniting World War III with a direct attack of some kind.

 Eisenhower was far from being an indecisive or incompetent boob.  By and large, he exercised good judgment based on a sophisticated grasp of information. He was admirably cautious in his decision making; a very good judge of character; and really a likeable guy whose interpersonal relationships held him in good stead both as a general and as a civilian statesman.  But he was also very human, had a big temper, insisted on personal control of many decisions, made some big mistakes, and didn't always acknowledge them forthrightly.  

  

    

THE BIGGEST SINGLE FACTOR IS MOM

We see a near blizzard of international test score comparisons that suggest U.S. performance suffers because of our high rates of poverty.  The contention is that our comparatively high rates of countrywide poverty mean that more of our children are denied quality schooling and instruction.  Yes that happens systemically without a doubt.  However, there are those who say the difference between poor kids who thrive in school and succeed in life and those who fail either to thrive or succeed has more to do with parental influence in the child’s early years than with money.  There is sound research to support this claim.

The biggest single factor is MOM.  All too often, in the demographic we are talking about, dads are physical or psychological absentees.  On the other hand, moms, and other female caregivers like grandma, typically reduce stress and provide caring emotional anchors for their children, setting the stage for them to react to the crises of everyday life constructively and positively.  As the primary caregiver, the mother creates preconditions for her children to develop a “locus of control”, a stockpile of self worth, motivation and drive, grit, curiosity and many other attributes we associate with the term character.

Because of moms, kids can cope with many of the worst effects of poverty.  This alone outweighs all of the early “academic” preparation a parent gives to the child either before they are developmentally ready for it or before they enter school.  The effects of a de-stressed home environment last long into formal schooling. Perceptive teachers notice it, and nurture it.

On Mothers Day, let’s celebrate the research that affirms the vital importance of moms and grandmoms to the character and learning motivation of children -- all children, but especially the ones who struggle with the challenges of economic denial in their everyday lives.  

Jeffrey M. Bowen

May 12, 2013  

The 5^th Grade High Jump

by Jeffrey M. Bowen

Each of us has at least a bit of vividly imprinted memory.  There are all kinds of variations.  In my case, myriad moments of the past are imprinted as visual images, often originally triggered by high emotions, a piece of music, just a sound, the person I was with, the occasion, or whatever.  I remember those moments in surprising detail, often right down to the weather conditions, or the color of the car parked down the street.

Here is just one illustration.  These days I have little ability to jump off the ground, and when I do, my knees hurt when I land.  I don’t think I ever had much ability of this kind because, even as a young recreational skier years ago in junior high and high school, unlike many of my age mates who leaped and careened over the moguls at Gunstock Ski Area, I just couldn’t get my boots and skis into the air.  I had little lift, no spring, and not much balance.

However, there WAS a time when I could REALLY elevate.  Back in the fifth grade, after weeks of practice on the playground with my Harvard Street Elementary School classmates taking turns landing in a thinly packed sawdust pit,  after jumping over a bamboo pole strung across a couple of uprights, I found I was pretty good at it.  The “scissors” was our only style.  This was years before the now routinely used Fosbury Flop, which requires at least three feet of cushions under the bar because jumpers are prone to land directly on their necks.

Came the annual elementary school track meet in June.  I went through the elimination rounds with ease, and finally, I actually won!  The physical education teacher who was running this event, Mr. Noucas asked, “Do you want to try for a record?”  I said of course, so with that bar getting right up there to where I had never jumped before, I leaped.  I missed badly, and fell over backward as I came down, so instinctively I put my hands out behind me to catch my fall.  Not a good move.  A moment later I looked at my sawdust-caked right arm, and my vivid memory is that it looked strangely twisted up and down just above the wrist, and it really hurt.  I lay there and moaned, and immediately people crowded around.  I heard Mr. Noucas say, “Ahh, I think he broke his arm.”  What followed was a blur, but my mom, who also happened to be my 5th grade teacher, rode with me to the Laconia Clinic where they set my arm in a summer-long cast, but not before using ether as an anesthetic.  Never will I forget the swirling green buzz I saw before disappearing into etherland.  Nor will I forget waking up to seemingly endless vomit.  But it all ended eventually.  When the cast was removed at the end of summer, my arm looked like it belonged to a zombie.  Before long it came back to life and was as good as new except now and then, in damp weather, when I remember grade 5, it still aches a bit.

Now that I think about it, since that time, I have never been able to spring off the ground more than a few paltry inches.  Perhaps that 5th grade high jump taught more of a lesson than I realized.

Some Waterlogged River Analogies

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

     Rivers, with their currents and directions, significantly predict our destinies.  Getting sold down the river means you were cheated.  Being sent up the river suggests you went to prison.  The former probably originated from sour land deals (a river didn’t run through it after all?) while the latter surely refers to the Hudson River and a trip from NYC to Sing Sing, or Ossining where an infamous prison is located.  People in that boat find themselves in hot water, even though they are on a cold river.  Maybe they are up a creek without a paddle, but one cannot be quite sure why that is always so bad because being swept downstream may quite enjoyable.  It is popularly known as going with the flow.  This is fine unless you are headed for a fall.   It’s best to stay philosophical about flow because, after all, pretty soon it will all be water under the bridge.

     There is another condition where you don't go much of anywhere at all.  Encountered on lakes or oceans more often than on a river, you are becalmed.  Just remember, it is definitely less desirable to be stuck in the doldrums.  Then you are really going nowhere soon.   Drifting has a bunch of connotations, but I usually think of it as aimlessly wandering.  Still, drifting down a river decidedly is positive if you think like Huck Finn; then it becomes an adventure.

      In fact, tripping downstream or upstream can be either romantic, mysterious, or both.  Otherwise, why would composers write songs like “Cruising down the River” (on a Sunday afternoon, with birds making love up above?) or “Up a Lazy River”?  Why do song writers give rivers names like Moon, Sewanee, and Deep?   Because it’s  great shorthand for communicating love, longing, or religious beliefs.  Not always is the romance such a beautiful thing because some people wail, “Cry Me a River“.  Ass for “Old Man River”, well he’s just lazy and keeps on rolling along; like he’s “Rollin’ on the River”.   I like this reference because it conjures up Tina Turner gyrating to the lyrics.  

     What happens on the typical cattle drive or mass migrations of wildebeests?  A river crossing, of course!   At that juncture we get into big trouble.  Just like us, the animals get caught in cross currents, or they wade into deep water that is over their heads.  Presumably they are not getting into the same kind of hot water as felons.   But far be it from me to throw cold water on the idea because we all have rivers to cross under many different circumstances.  When we reach the point of no return, then like Julius Caesar in 49 A.D., have “crossed the Rubicon”.

      If you don’t have a bridge over troubled water, then a river crossing becomes obligatory.  Hopefully, you won’t cross the (county) line.   Since I am getting fairly close to that point, here is where I stop, tread water, and drop anchor.  There is little time for a river dance, but it might happen shortly because I can’t hold my water any longer.

A Rubric for Life and Learning

             In order to gain much of anything from what we learn, whether it is in school or college curriculum or the hard knocks of adult life, we all should deliberately seek to interpret and organize what happens to us in ways that are personally meaningful.  For a young person in school, the currently popular K-12 Common Core provides a sequenced curriculum framework, but no unifying method of organizing contents from beginning to end.  For older folks like me, the great temptation is to let the news media or those with specialized knowledge or credentials (like my spouse and family) tell us what we should do or think.  There have to be some better psychic hitching posts for everyone, regardless of age.  I have come up with five fairly straightforward, admittedly broad guides that represent sort of a rubric for life and learning.  

            First, ask questions. When encountering any new piece or source of information with potential for it to become meaningful knowledge, think in terms of the traditional journalistic guide for getting the facts.  Ask who, what, when, where, often how, and always why. Actually, the WHY question leads to a whole wide world of telling justifications.  When you know why, you can better grasp the past, present, and predictable future of the life you are leading.   Many times we are afraid to speak up and query for fear of dispelling the impression we know what is going on, but wise folks tell us, the only dumb question is the one you don't ask. Perhaps the very best learning questions are ones triggered either by curiosity or by the desire to challenge and promote dialogue.

           

            Second, compare and contrast.  Whatever we experience is most likely not something absolutely new or different from what preceded it, or what others may be thinking or doing right now.  By taking a comparative look at something, we can figure out whether it is more similar or more different from something else.  We grasp whether things are original, or an outgrowth, or, as they say, just “new wine in old bottles.”  Thereby, knowledge can be constructed, and perspective gained.

            Third, value relationships.  They may lie between individuals or things, but  in either case they are potential assurance that we are all linked, and that we can build on connections to generate meaning or purpose, perhaps especially in a social context.  Even when we are just sensing or thinking about relationships, we are more apt to be in touch with the world that surrounds us.  We experience more feeling. When we understand a relationship, then we understand ourselves better.  It gives us a sense of place in a big world.

            Fourth, embrace emotions.  By giving room to what we feel, it gains enriching occupancy in our house of meanings.  So called social and emotional intelligence is an invaluable learning tool because it vitalizes virtually every other kind of traditional  learning opportunity.  It provides context and dynamism in a world that would otherwise be rather superficially dry and sterile.  Remember, a story that involves people who interact typically means much more than research that describes theories and findings.

            Fifth, seek to understand.  Educators like to call this getting "the big idea".  If you get the key idea behind whatever you learn, if you see the bigger picture, then typically it provides motivation, a scaffold for further learning, a balcony from which to observe and appreciate what is going on below you, and a justification for the multitude of facts and information that you are exposed to.  Seeking out and articulating the big ideas really provide meaning for the welter of activities washing around and through our lives.  As educational writer Grant Wiggins has thoughtfully explained, there may be different kinds of understanding, but all of them comprise the most durable underpinnings for whatever we learn.  They surely help us sort out and remember what we are learning.  Understandings should be designed into the curriculum of life.  They answer the why question.

JMB

2/1/15      

Rowing Has Given Purpose and Passion To My Life

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

Rowing your boat gently down the stream, merrily finding that life is but a dream, suggests that oars  offer lessons about life as much as propulsion.   I have learned that pulling your weight by rowing is truly one of the best ways to go.  Motor craft make a racket, and you cannot always count on sails to move your boat.  

As a kid I used to spend summer vacation time on Chebeague Island in Maine where fishing boats had to be moored offshore so they wouldn’t go aground on low tide.  Getting out to the anchored boat required rowing there in a dinghy.  My dad knew it would benefit him to teach me to master the oars at an early age.

 I loved it and learned to pull forward, push backward, and even pull one oar and push the other to turn around.  Later I earned a Boy Scout merit badge by learning how to paddle a canoe every which way, and how to scull from the stern when you had only one oar.  Out on the water, urgent paddling and sculling became necessary when my dad’s outboard motor died, which it frequently did.

On Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire, Harvard and Yale reportedly rowed against each other 1853.  This was one of the earliest American intercollegiate crew races of its kind.  Nearby, more than a century later, I too became fascinated by an amazing craft designed for competition and speed.   

My brother-in-law purchased a used single shell from Harvard and launched it at the family’s Lake Winnesquam cottage.  Constructed of beautifully varnished laminated wood, the craft acted like a slippery knitting needle in the water.  Your seat moved on a track as you stroked with your arms and pushed with your legs.  I had to learn certain things fast.   First, to avoid tipping over, hold the oars locked together and submerged while you inch into the tipsy craft; second, pull the oars evenly or you will catch a crab – that is, catch one oar in the water and get punched in the stomach with its handle; third, feather the oars, which means rotate the oars flat when you pull them out of the water to reduce wind resistance.  Finally, it helps to have calm water and about half a mile to turn around.

The rhythm of quietly shooting across the water while stretching every muscle created an indelible memory.  When a whole team of eight rowers achieves the coordination and power to move their craft in flawless synchrony, it becomes a heavenly experience.  Legendary shell builder George Pocock described team rowing as “a symphony in motion. It touches…your soul.” 

My son experienced this sort of passion in the 1990s on crew at Marist College in Poughkeepsie.  He also discovered the agony of training.  Hours were spent on a rowing machine called an ergometer.  I was reminded of this recently when the Buffalo News described an “ergatta” in which athletes competed on ergometers at the West Side Rowing Club while their rates were measured by computer.  

Meanwhile, I keep in shape on a more traditional rowing machine.  To date I have pulled more than 50,000 strokes.  Although I have never moved forward an inch, I daydream about rowing on Lake Winnesquam.  Often the dream is not about racing shells, but about the night I rowed my girlfriend out on the lake under a canopy of stars, and told her why it was the perfect time to kiss me.  She agreed.   Many years later, we are still rowing gently downstream.  

   

JMB

2/21/15

  

Retirement Discoveries

At this point I’ve been retired most of one summer from July 1 on.  (see additional note for a five-year update) On the scale of retirements, not very long, and certainly for a former school administrator the time frame creates a bias.  The kids have not returned to school yet.  Fellow administrators have been taking vacations.  I took one for two weeks in Maine, so I guess even retirees get to take short vacations.

My spouse is still a superintendent of schools, and she will continue for the upcoming year before she too retires.  As I see her prepare to launch one more school year, I tell her, “Remember, you only have to do this one more time,” and at the same time I whisper quizzically under my breath, “Wow, I will never have to do that again!”  What I have discovered involves new circumstances with so many  unscheduled options and long-denied opportunities that it’s like revisiting my 8^th grade summer – about the last time a paying job didn’t matter.  Both rewards and challenges are arriving from different sources.  Here are 10 of my most recent findings:

1.     My school district, like every other educational bureaucracy, has chugged right along without me.

No beats missed, no pistons misfiring—at least that I know of.

I am grateful no longer to be the whipping boy for every single-minded critic.  But I am no longer the boss of anything educational.  No one needs me to be an executive decision maker, to solve their problems.  Someone else appears to be  doing that just fine.  There was a lot of satisfaction ultimately from making a final decision I knew was right, or from enabling others to understand or excel, or from being an executive orchestra leader.  I still hear good music, but the orchestra has a new conductor.

Five years later:  Perhaps taking some cues from my wife, now retired for four years (to my five), we make virtually no effort to stay in touch with the people or events of our school districts.  The one exception is a shared commitment to mentoring one or two administrators who are seeking superintendencies.  We have long since put the school district experience beyond us.  We don’t miss it, really, at all.  We have moved forward!   

2.     Life is more pleasant—and surely less stressed--when you don’t have to report to a board or team of any kind.

My job as a superintendent largely focused on getting things done by delegating tasks to an administrative team, and by means of a biweekly climactic event known as a “regular meeting of the board of education”.  Boards and administrators are unpredictable groups.  Their commitment and dedication are variable.  Praise and positive feedback for what superintendents do is startlingly rare.  The job is publicly, egregiously misunderstood.  You spend lots of time being a referee, a mandate manager.  There is precious little time for acts of real leadership.

Five years later:  No longer “managing” a school board continues to be a stress reliever, no, actually a joy!  I am president of Healthy Community Alliance, but have no real executive stake in it.  I love the absence of accountability to others, and do not feel at all dependent on praise or reinforcement from others for anything education related.

 However, now I can delegate to myself and report to my spouse.  Relationships are less complicated.  Fortunately, I like myself most of the time, and my wife gives me lots of encouragement.

3.     Tasks that were hard to find time for now stretch out to fill whatever time I choose to give to them.

 Yard work, washing the car, grocery and prescription pick-ups, doctors visits, exercise, computer fiddling, getting lunch – all are mysteriously affected by Murphy’s laws.  Tasks that seemed mundane before now seem to plug a hole in my retired life.  Especially if I put them on a check-off list, just as was true in my professional life, I feel satisfied for having accomplished domestic chores.  The bonus is tangibility.  You see your handiwork, know it’s really done, and usually it doesn’t come back to bite you.

Five years later:  The flexibility and choice of how I spend my time, including being able to focus on things that are fun, really enjoyable, make the changed dimensions of time one of biggest bonuses of retirement.

4.     Some pursuits have clicked into gear.  Others have not.

As yet I am unmotivated by volunteering, charitable service, or visits to our grown-up children.  Usually my wife and I do these things together, and at least for now she is otherwise occupied.   I am finding time to pursue hobbies like reading, writing, and music.  Before I always squeezed such activities into limited spaces between work obligations and physical exhaustion.  The squeezing seems to go on.  Despite retirement, I find myself in sort of a strange waiting mode, expectant but hesitant to commit.  Time beckons, but also threatens because you need so much of the damned stuff to turn corners at new intersections.

Five years later:  I have mastered all kinds of new photography related technology and spend substantial time playing with it.  Hillary and I do other things together, like working on the gardens and riding bikes, and traveling either to Europe or the Caribbean, but Lightroom and Photoshop Elements are my private hobby preserve.

5.     For retired school district leaders, allegedly there are plenty of selective opportunities to contribute to the field:

teaching courses in university schools of education, consulting on special projects, or serving in interim positions.  Despite having distributed resumes to these schools, having declared willingness to consult, and even applying for one interim position, I am hardly convinced that opportunity is rampant.  Did too many administrators retire 10 years earlier than I did and want to do this work?  Maybe the field is starting to flood with baby-boomer retirees.  Or maybe neither universities nor school districts have enough extra coin to fund retirees’ teaching or consulting.  To be sure, a couple of workshop presentations have come along this summer.  I have over-prepared for them, and they have stressed me out – enjoyment and satisfaction notwithstanding!  So the bottom line so far on this score sheet is ambivalence.

Five years later:  No longer do I seek additional education related responsibilities.  My ego doesn’t need it anymore.  But I like staying in contact with the research, the ideas, and I have maintained a contract to evaluate and mentor a charter school principal.  It is enough.

6.     I appreciate – no truthfully cherish -- the physical and mental health that I have managed to preserve into retirement years.

So many individuals are in danger of falling apart at the age of retirement, often because they failed to take care of themselves over the years.  Cancer, heart disease, Alzheimer’s, tragic accidents, or physical incapacity spawned by obesity—what frustrations and pain these must cause for the victims and their families!  The damage caused by family disintegration can be just as discouraging when retirement presents so many options to renew family life. I have been incredibly fortunate to remain healthy, able to exercise religiously, and to have a peaceful, compatible and loving family life.

Five years later:  Hillary and I have become closer than ever, true lifetime friends and mates.  We have worked on diets together, and we work out faithfully, maintaining our health so we can travel and enjoy a favorable quality of life into our 70s.   

7.     Financial well-being represents one of the big and obvious issues of retirement. 

Unlike so many individuals whose retirement savings have dwindled, who may never be able to retire as a result, or who cannot afford health insurance coverage let alone the mortgage or daily living expenses, I benefit from a rock-solid, state-constitutionally-guaranteed pension from a state retirement system in combination with Social Security.  I earned this; it’s not charity.  In some ways I thank myself every day for having had the foresight and persistence to put myself in a financially stress-free retirement mode.

Five years later:  I have not bought an abundance of new things with all of the available cash that retirements has preserved.  I did buy an updated Corvette and some new technology.  But more has been spent on trips because they are stimulating, provide new friendships, and many opportunities to take pictures.  We are really into travel because you need breaks from this location during or after winter.  Also, free from obligations, we can meet new friends and see things we never thought to seek out while working.  Guilt kept us in our school districts.

8.     The transition to retirement involves tools – ones you need, and ones you don’t, and ones you can adapt.

Throughout my career as an educational researcher for a state association, and as a district administrator, I depended on certain tools of the trade.  I needed relevant literature, research studies, periodicals and professional development publications.  In other words, I needed supplies for the mind and practice.  Communication was a priority of course, and accordingly a land-line phone, lap top, I Pad, and blackberry were all essential.  Yes, I harbored certain peculiarities – like a massive and constantly growing collection of pens.  And pads of paper to use them on.  Nowadays I depend on a dehumidifier to keep all those pens,  books, and supplies dry.  There they sit, unneeded, unused, and largely symbolic.  Communication is still paramount, so I have purchased and have spent hours learning to use a new aggregation of electronic tools – a new lap top, and a droid hand-held device with a new email address.  I love the new tools, but their purposes have morphed.  Today I keep track of caloric intake and weight using my droid.  Two months ago I kept track of parental complaints and board members’ questions on my blackberry.  Keeping track of the weather will remain a lifelong habit.  However, I am no longer so fixated on radar.   

Five years later:  Mostly all of the above is still true, though I don’t need the pens or pads anymore.  Communication is definitely still a priority for me.  There has been a big increase in my use of facebook, email for pleasure, and reliance on the internet to learn about many new things.  I have thoroughly enjoyed writing pieces now and then for My View in the Buffalo News. No longer do I feel confined to educational topics.  I like to write about the many other things that now impinge on my life.   

9.     Retirement requires a change of costumes.

I have about 800 ties, 30 suits and sport jackets, 15 pairs of dress shoes, and so on.  I had a 12’x12’ walk-in closet built for them.  No longer is this a working walk-in closet; it’s really more of a museum.  I wear casual clothing nearly all the time.  Dressy clothing always made me feel special.  At least in shorts and t-shirts I can do yard work with sweaty abandon.  But I don’t have much occasion so far to wear a costume that makes me feel special.  I feel very practical and comfortable.  Not bad.  I wonder if I can ever bear to part with those dress clothes.  For better or worse, they all fit because I kept weight off, and nothing ever seems to wear out.  Taking care of what is mine is a lifelong habit.

Five years later:  I have discarded about a half of my dressy clothes, Hillary has rid herself of even more.  Now I enjoy stretch pants, nylon t’s, and other casual wear including dungarees.  Very seldom do I dress up anymore.

10. Beauty becomes more discoverable.

When working, I seldom found time or gave attention to the beauty of nature’s routine.  I was always reacting, putting out others’ fires, or ones I ignited myself.  Now I have more time to observe what goes on around me in nature – of which there is an abundance right around my house.  I see and feel the rituals and realities of nature more than I ever did before.  Three humming birds compete for nectar.  The young geese practice formations and fall into disarray.  A fox captures a crow for her cubs’ dinner, but then gets killed by a car and eaten in stages by turkey buzzards.  The lawn growth slows down as August wanes, and the nights are a bit longer and chillier.

Five years later:  My photography has verified the above in spades.  Probably my preferred subjects are still animals and natural landscapes rather than people.  The quality of life out here in the country continues to keep us contented, and wonderfully unstressed.  Our retirement is surely a healthy one, mentally and physically.

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 Maybe you have noticed, not once have I mentioned a “honey-do” list.  That’s probably because I make them up myself and thus far have restlessly pursued their completion.  Perhaps it’s because I thrive on routines.  Perhaps I am afraid of losing purpose. Perhaps I need to feel I am accomplishing something useful.  Perhaps I need someone else to validate what I am doing.  My spouse advises me, “Ease off!  I like mowing the lawn, too!”  Still, I notice she appreciates everything I have done and unstintingly praises it.   

Jeff Bowen

Retired Superintendent of Schools

August 2011 and March 2016