Activist Unite. Veterans For Peace 2006 National Convention

Photograph and Composition By Betsy L. Angert ©
Recently, the political blogosphere has been buzzing with talk of action, activism, and conventions. Some are seeking a connection to “real” American heroes. Bloggers wish to show their support for the people that truly serve this nation. Still, they want to promote peace. This announcement might offer the opportunity some crave. Veterans For Peace is hosting a National Convention. The conference will begin August 10 and close on the 13th. Speakers such as author John Perkins, peace loving Mom, Cindy Sheehan, and anti-war activist, Dahr Jamail will welcome attendees. I will share the schedule and specifics below.
Years ago, I discovered Veterans For Peace accidentally. I was an active member of the Orange County Peace Coalition. A person I not yet met, placed a request into the Coalition’s cyberspace. James Ameen, veteran and co-organizer of Arlington West, Huntington Beach project, was looking for assistance. Mr. Ameen was planning a performance piece, an installation, and a work of art. He was documenting the deaths from this country’s most recent aggression, and memorializing these.

Mr. Ameen and co-coordinator, Tom Lash, another Veteran for Peace, were focused. They were seeking persons willing and able to contribute time and energy to their effort. The hope was that they, along with others, would enlighten a seemingly apathetic public. They would tell their personal tales of war and discuss the occurrences in Iraq.


Upon meeting Mr. Ameen and discussing the undertaking, I became absorbed in this anti-war effort. I regularly participated in this commemorative to fallen soldiers and civilians. For months, Arlington West, Orange County became my home away from home. The Veterans For Peace organization became a close friend.

I helped to construct, sand, and paint wooden crosses. I placed these in the sand on the beach each weekend morning. Twelve hours later, I lent a hand in loading these crosses into cars and then taking them to a safe storage.

Each week I collected and updated the information necessary for the display. I typed comments, created a database of passer-bys and interested parties. I placed flowers on these headstones and I met many Veterans and active duty service persons during this endeavor. Hours were dedicated to Peace and peace activism. There were plenty devoted to destruction that passed by the installation. They spoke of their beliefs; I listened and discussed my own.

For me, the time I spent engaging with Veterans For Peace was fruitful. Now, that experience might be yours. I received this announcement and I wish to pass it on to you dear reader. This is another opportunity for activist to unite.


Veterans For Peace – 2006 National Convention
Seattle, Washington, University of Washington Campus
August 10 – 13, 2006
“Sow Justice, Reap Peace: Strategies For Moving Beyond War.”

Convention Speakers
John Perkins, Cindy Sheehan, and Dahr Jamail head an All-Star cast of speakers to the 2006 Veterans For Peace National Convention.

And that’s not all. This is shaping up to be an incredible list of speakers, and it doesn’t even include

The Musicians!
John Perkins, Cindy Sheehan, Dahr Jamail, Ann Wright, Ray McGovern, Brian Willson, Jennifer Harbury, Elliott Adams, Stacy Bannerman, Antonia Juhasz, Pablo Paredes, Malik Rahim, Bruce Gagnon, Diane Benson, Monica Benderman, Camilo Mejia, Majorie Cohn, Diane Rejman, Simona Sharoni, Diane Wilson, Anthony Arnove, Bridgett Cantrell, David Cline, Michael McPhearson, Gerry Condon, Eli Painted Crow, Mike Ferner, Vivian Felts, Ellen Finklestein, Lynn Fitzhugh, Tina Garnanez, Jennifer Harbury, Ed Heim, Andy Heims, Evan Kanter, Dan Kenner, John Kim, Kathleen McFerran, Alene Morris, Steve Morse, Paul William Roberts, David Swanson, Bob Wing, Todd Boyle and more . . .

You will not get a recital of old, familiar material. You will get the state of the art, the leading edge of thinking. You will be in a conference room with Ray McGovern or Brian Willson or Dahr Jamail, in a discussion with other leading activists.

This will be the biggest convention of the year for any serious student of nonviolent political change.
Everyone in this struggle is welcome. Please join us!

Convention Workshops

Veterans for Peace Convention – August 10 – 13, 2006

Workshop Schedule

Thursday, August 10, 2006
2:30 – 3:45
• Chapter Organization/Innovations: Spreading the Peace/Anti-war Movement: Why is it so White and Middle-class? (Michael McPhearson and Bob Wing)
• Communication: Hearts and Minds: Spiritual Activism in a Time of War (Stacy Bannerman)
• Environment and Culture: A World of Hurt or Hope: The National Security Implications of Global
• Warming and Abrupt Climate Change, (John Seebeth)
• Human Effects of War: Finding the Way Back Home: Readjustment and Traumatic Stress (Drs. Bridgett Cantrell, Scott Michael, and Evan Kanter)
• Veteran Support: Vets4Vets, Peer Support, and Empowerment Groups for Iraq-era Veterans (Jim Driscoll. Kelly Dougherty, Garett Reppenhagen)
• Issues of War: War profiteering and U.S. Strategic Goals in the Middle East (Dahr Jamail)

4:00 – 5:15
• Chapter Organization/Innovations: Walking to New Orleans (Malik Rahim, Vivian Felts, Ward Reilly, Michael McPhearson et al)
• Communication: Creating Safety Through Connection: Nonviolent Communication (Kathleen Macferran)
• Environment and Culture: Agents of Destruction: DU and Agent Orange (David Cline et al)
• Human Effects of War: Writing About War by Live video feed from Toronto (Paul William Roberts)
• Veteran Support: International Panel (Frank Houde et al)
• Issues of War: Nuclear weapons (Carol Reilley Urner)

Friday, August 11, 2006
9:45 – 11:00
• Chapter Organization/Innovations: Counter recruitment
• Communication: How to Speak the Truth in Difficult Times (Alene Moris)
Environment and Culture: The Peace Movement, Knowing What to do Next (Elliot Adams)
• Human Effects of War: Health Consequences of War: Challenges Beyond the Battlefield (Drs. Gene Bolles and Evan Kanter)
• Veteran Support: An American Peace Veteran in Vietnam (Diane Rejman)
• Issues of War: The Politics of Obedience: Breaking the Habit of Voluntary Servitude (Brian Willson)

11:15 – 12:30
• Chapter Organization/Innovations: Waging Peace Workshops, an Overview (Elliot Adams)
• Communication: Voices of Women Veterans – (Ann Wright, Tina Garnanez and Eli Painted Crow)
• Environment: How Can We Avert the Converging Catastrophes of Global Climate Change, Global Oil Depletion, and the U.S. War Response to Oil? (Roland James)
• Culture: Creating a Culture of Peace (Ellen Finkelstein)
• Veteran Support: Alternative Medicine Breakthroughs and PTSD and PTSD and EMDR – the End of the Nightmares (Lynn Fitz-Hugh and Dan Kenner)
• Issues of War: Structural Causes of War, Todd Boyle, and Antonia Juhasz

2:00 – 3:15
• Chapter Organization/Innovations: Chapter Building (Patrick McCann)
• Communication: Practicing Nonviolent Communication (Bob Hendricks)
• International Issues: Israel/Palestine (Souliman al Khatib and Assaf Oron)
• Issues of War: Lies, Secrecy and Lawlessness – How to Stop the Coming Police State and Protect Yourself Along the Way (Ray McGovern and Ed Hein)
• Veteran Support: Resisting in the US and Canada (Gerry Condon and Pablo Paredes)
• Issues of War: Impeachment (David Swanson and Mike Ferner)

3:45 – 5:00
• Innovations: Passing the Torch: Training Youth to be Peace Activists (Youth panel from FOR)
• Communication: Media (Virginia Rodino)
• Culture: Unity Beyond War Time (Andy Himes)
• Human Effects of War: Torture (Jennifer Harbury)
• Veteran Support: GI Rights and GI Advocacy (Steve Morse)
• Issues of War: Axis of Evil v. Great Satan (John Amidon, John Kim and Keith Leitich)

We really hope you can join us. It promises to be an exciting event. Last year’s convention in Dallas kicked off Camp Casey, the Bring Them Home Now Tour, and the Katrina Relief Effort in the Gulf. There is no telling what kind of momentum we’ll generate this year. Come to Seattle and be a part of history!

For more information and to register please see the following links:
Convention Website:
http://www.vfpnationalconvention.org

Convention Flyer:
http://www.veteransforpeace.org/convention_flyer.pdf

Registration Page:
https://www.seattletech.com/registration/index.php?confno=815&stguniv=212&PAYMENTS=TRUE

Register By Mail Form:
http://hfs.washington.edu/uploadedFiles/Conferences/For_Attendees/VetsforPeace.pdf

Register By Phone: 206-543-7634

Thank you,

Veterans For Peace National Office
216 S. Meramec Avenue
St. Louis, Missouri 63105
314-725-6005

Orange County Peace Coalition.

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

War in the Wind, Blast Buries New York City Building ©

9/11 Photograph, By Ted S. Warren, Associated Press.
WABC News. Photograph July 10, 2006.

A building in New York City is buried.  Fires are blazing.  It is highly possible people were killed or injured.  The public speculates.  Could it be a bomb blast, an act of terrorism, homegrown or international?  Might the cause be a gas leak or an electrical explosion?  Perhaps, it is a crime of vengeance.  Early on, suicide was not considered.  For me, while the cause is important, it pales in comparison to the fact.  

War is in the air; it blows with the wind.  Acts of violence travel.  They cannot be isolated or contained to lands far from our shores.  If we accept war anywhere, we consent to it here.  Warfare is not a concept; it is concrete.  Combat comes easily to the minds of men or women in conflict.  Witness today, yesterday, and everyday.  We as a nation are at war.  While the struggle is far from our shores, it looms large in our collective psyche.
Our leaders reassure us, and on the surface, Americans accept the façade they present.  [Some] Americans love when Bush bellows and Cheney chants, “We will confront them overseas so we do not have to confront them here at home.”  Americans applaud this non-sequitur logic.  They surmise war can be isolated and they are insulated.  In 2004, that was the battle cry.  There were no terrorist attacks on American shores since September 11, 2001.  Therefore, the theory was proposed, President Bush and his hawkish policies protected us.  Many accepted this as true.

They then cast their ballots for this magnificent man.  They gave the Bush, Cheney team their mandate, or so that is how the Administration framed it.  Again, and again the Emperor exclaimed he had capital to spend and he spent it.  Thus, we have the cost of war.  

Causalities abound; the numbers are climbing.  Iraqi civilians are raped, maimed, murdered; yet, they do not count.  They are merely collateral damage.  Citizens of the United States remain safe, sane, or so it appears.  Thus, we support our President and allow him to continue in office.

However, in our heart-of-hearts, we know; America is not out of harm’s way.  We recognize war is in the wind.  When a building explodes or implodes in New York City, we all panic with reason.  Citizens understand what they never wish to express.  As long as we accept war is an option, we are admitting that it can and will touch us, just as it affects our “enemies.”  No one is sheltered from the scars combat causes.

King George II cannot protect and defend America from farther feuds; nor can Cheney or Rumsfeld.  These lovelies created what comes closer.  With thanks to our beloved President and his Cabinet, the possibility of war within the United States is real.  

For now, the prospect settles only in the recesses of our minds, and on drawing boards elsewhere.  Still, we all know the threat is valid.  Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice can rant and rage about States rights; yet, she too has no power to guard against the aggression she helped to promote.  

Once the notion is placed on the table, the tremors will be felt throughout the globe.  No man is an island; nor can any of us ever be insulated or isolated.

After receiving many replies to this treatise, I realized that what might be so obvious to me, the writer, is not apparent, to many a dear reader. Perchance I was not clear in my communication.

Possibly some are so offended by this Administration and the ample accusations; terrorists are everywhere, they missed my message. Those persons, and admittedly, typically I am among these, distrust Bush and the Bunch so much, that they see any talk of terrorism as a means for distracting Americans from the real issues.

There are those that awoke hours after the initial blasts. They already read and heard the theories. These individuals knew the explosion was likely a suicide attempt. Therefore, these bookworms thought I was telling tales. I was stirring the National Security soup of the day. For these persons, I was making an issue of what was nothing more than a “normal” event in the course of any day.

Numerous persons are concerned even consumed with an exit strategy. They want us out of Iraq and Afghanistan. An event in a single day is not their focus. These individuals might not question the entrance into war per se. They struggle with the constant loss this conflict brings. They may think stuff happens; hostilities occur, related to Iraq or not.

I am repeatedly reminded, that as a whole, most people think war is an option, the one of last resort; however, the alternative is often considered acceptable.

Conceivably, that may be the challenge. When I wrote this treatise, I was speaking of my truth. For me, “War is not an option, not now or ever!” I do not think terrorism is a reason for combat. I believe slavery, genocide, homicide, rape, and racism were not the causes of wars in the past. Economic power and the desire for supremacy are, in my mind, the rationale behind battles and bickering.

For me, the blast was a reminder of where we have been. It is where we still are. On this planet, war is in the wind! It has been for centuries.

For those that rose hours after investigations began, they could again sink into the comfort of complacency. For the many that bash-Bush, more power to you. I was not denying the validity of your beliefs. I share these. My only question was and is, why is war an option, ever? I believe that if it is in the wind in the East, it will be in the air traveling westward.

We can sit in the comfort of our cushy chairs. We can profess how terrible the terrorist are or how awful the insurgent Bush is. However, as long as we, Americans, allow for and accept war as an option, on our shores or on those aboard, then we can never know with certainty where the next strike will hit. I think this is why those on the streets at the time of the blast were shaken.

When I penned this missive, I was speaking to the stress exhibited by those there, near the building in New York City. I was also addressing my own eternal anxiety. Why is violent behavior ever an option? Even now, believing the cause of the blast was an attempted suicide does not ease my mind. Why do we aggressively strike out and hurt others or ourselves?

I hope this communiqué helps to clarify my intent. Perhaps, those that felt confused will re-visit the message.

Please Peruse the Possibilities When War is in the Wind.

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

Assertion: To Defend America, We Must Attack Aggressively ©


Americans were under attack.  It was September 11, 2001.  Ultimately, this peace-loving country initiated all out war.  The United States sought a broad coalition; however, the President and others were willing to go it alone.  This nation, its leaders, and citizens concluded their safety and stability were being threatened.  Our countrymen thought enemies were everywhere and thus, the battles began.  Policies were adopted.  The idea of privacy was altered.  The Patriot Act was drawn and passed.  The National Security Strategy for the United States of America was accepted.  

People throughout America were ready to protect themselves no matter what the cost.  Aggressive reactions were booming.  Americans declare loudly, “You are either with us or against us.”  If you choose to terrorize me or mine then you will be taken, “Dead or alive!”  Thus, the cycle began again.  America believes, when threatened, we must aggressively attack.
Post-September 11, 2001, America went to war.  This was not the first time; nor do I think it will be the last.  Americans seem to accept a cycle of conflicts.  Some say it is the nature of man to war.  Others offer evolution as the rationale.  After all, man is descended from beasts; therefore, we as humans fight for our survival.  When Americans felt threatened, we brawl, batter, and beat our adversaries vehemently!  Enemies might be terrorist, Tories, or any persons or groups that tempts or taunts them.  However, none is a foe unless they pressure us [the people of the USA] personally.  On balance, we are people of peace; we believe in diplomacy.  We are a democratic nation.  Our history demonstrates this or does it.

We work towards peace whenever possible.  We intentionally avoid conflict.  Confrontation must come to us before we engage.  The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941 during what was the Second World War to stop all wars.  Battles had been raging for two long years in Europe; Hitler and Mussolini were on the rise for years prior to the war.  While Chamberlain tried to quell the aggressive advances of these comrades, his own passivity, policy of appeasement, gave them strength.  The drum beats of warfare heightened.  However, the United States stayed distant.  Until, this country believed itself vulnerable they thought it was none of their business.  Americans wish to wound no one, unless provoked.

We, the people of the United States loathe war, or so we say.  In truth, citizens of this nation love fighting. Repeatedly, our countrymen accept violence and reject harmony.  They claim this acceptance is reluctant; however, there is ample evidence that affirms the contrary.  

Frequently, I find myself saying “War is never an option,” to those advocating the effort.  I receive in retort this reply, “Brutality is justified when it is an act of self-defense.”  From my perspective, fighting is never an act; it is what we do when we react.  Actions are loving, they are giving they demonstrate care and concern.  When we take action, we are productive.  We yield growth.  Actions are lively and full of vigor.  When we react, we destroy!  A reaction is elicited when we fear for our families, our familiars, or for ourselves.  Pain causes a fight or flight response.

Intellectually, Americans state, “War is the option of last resort”; however, this country, it leaders and citizens choose it often, more often than not.  We fight conflict after conflict.  We clash here and abroad.  We win battles; some say we win wars.  Yet, we never achieve peace.  The reasons for this are plentiful.  Among these is “Might does not make right.”

The numbers may be on our side; however, success is much more than a tangible strength.  The United States often has more servicemen and women than its enemies.  Our artillery is ample.  The tools this nation produces are quite superior.  Still, our will at times is less strong than that of our adversaries.  On these occasions, victory is not ours.  In truth, I think when aggression is involved no one triumphs.  Everyone suffers a loss when we wage war, except perhaps the businesses that produce our weaponry and supplies.

In case the citizenry ever forget that this nation was founded on war, our leaders remind us.  Their words are written into our policy.  Most recently, our glorious king, George II etched his wisdom into our doctrine.  Bush and his Bunch drafted the National Security Strategy for the United States of America in 2002.  Our Eternal Emperor, the man chosen to speak for God, and selected to serve by Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist, President George W. Bush is quoted throughout the document.  He offers,
“Our Nation’s cause has always been larger than our Nation’s defense.
We fight, as we always fight, for a just peace–a peace that favors liberty.
We will defend the peace against the threats from terrorists and tyrants.” – President Bush.  West Point, New York.  June 1, 2002

The President sounds so eloquent, so astute, and so contrary.  I wonder; how does one defend peace as they fight.  Is liberty achieved when we exert our will on others?  History proves it is not.

People may pretend to circumvent their truer desires.  They may appear to be abiding by the laws set by those deemed superior.  However, they plot, plan, and pursue their personal philosophies, no matter what or who tries to control them.  Consider Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, and yes, even the early American colonists.

Nevertheless, we pursue.  We Americans conclude we must protect, defend, and preserve our safe space.  If anyone or any group threatens us, we must act aggressively.  “To achieve these goals, the United States will: Prevent our enemies from threatening our allies, our friends, and us with weapons of mass destruction.”

These weapons may be in the form of arsenal or they might be mere articulations.  No matter what their shape or appearance, any action taken against this State must be defended against.  

We the people of the United States know how to form a more perfect union, a compassionate community, even if we have to do it through war; we will do it.  It is as our President postures,
“Some worry that it is somehow undiplomatic or impolite to speak the language of right and wrong.  I disagree.  
Different circumstances require different methods, but not different moralities.” – President Bush.  West Point, New York.  June 1, 2002

Thus, the President declares, “War has been waged against us by stealth, deceit, and murder.  This nation is peaceful, but fierce when stirred to anger.  The conflict was begun on the timing and terms of others.  It will end in a way, and at an hour, of our choosing.” – President Bush.  Washington, D.C. (The National Cathedral).  September 14, 2001

Yet, it does not.  It never has.  They start a conflict.  We commence the battle.  Each fights the war to end all wars, over, and over, and over again.  

When wills this end?  It will conclude when we realize that “War is Not an Option!”  Aggression is never a solution.  We can be assertive; yet, not aggressive.  Wow, what a concept.  It might be an important one to consider before we engage in another war, or the next fight.  Yes, we have rights; however, so too do they.

Thus, I offer a discussion of aggression and assertiveness. I hope this might broaden our perspective. As you review the following information, I ask you to extrapolate. Consider what we witness locally, in our daily lives.

I believe that what we do in our homes, in the workplace, and on our streets becomes our habit and our truth. If we are snide, rude, crude, hostile, violent, or just plain aggressive with members of our family, with friends, or familiars we are likely to be so elsewhere. If we believe belligerent behavior is justifiable in defense of ourselves, might we also be more willing to accept it as a strategy for our nation? Sadly, I suspect we are.

Understanding Assertiveness, By Stuart Sorensen – RMN

What it will do is provide some information about the nature of assertiveness and how it differs from other methods of dealing with people.

Most people confuse assertiveness with aggression or `getting my own way.’  True assertiveness, however, is much more than that.  Assertiveness considers the rights and needs of everybody.  It assumes that everyone is equal.  Because of this assertiveness can be thought of as a method of increasing choices for everyone.

When we are unhappy with a situation, we have at least four choices.  We can:

  • Accept the situation
  • Be aggressive
  • Be passive
  • Be Assertive

Most People Behave in Each of These Four Ways in Different Situations.
If we are happy to accept a given situation, then all is well and good.  If not then we must choose one of the other three options.  Let’s look at these more closely.

Aggression
The aim of aggression is to get our own way – to win whatever the cost to other people.  Aggression is not interested in the rights, wants or needs of others.  Aggression is usually destructive, either physically or psychologically.  It’s true that people who behave aggressively often get what they want but aggression has other results as well.

  • Aggression often breeds aggression.  This means that once people start behaving aggressively with each other it can be very hard to stop.  People start looking for new ways to hurt each other and before you know it they’re lifelong enemies.
  • Aggression can make us unpopular.  Once we get a reputation for being aggressive, people start avoiding us.  This may be because they’re frightened we might turn on them or because they think we’ll embarrass them by behaving aggressively to other people.  They may also be worried that they’ll lose friends or influence as people might assume that they are just as aggressive.  In the end, the only friends aggressive people have are people who are just as aggressive they or people who are frightened of them.  They lose out on a lot of friendships because of their hostility.
  • Aggression discourages people from helping us in the future.  If we force people to do what we want by using aggression, they will probably feel bad about us.  This often means they refuse to help us when we really need them.
  • Some people believe that behaving aggressively makes others respect us.  It doesn’t, it simply makes them fear us.  Frightened people only do what we want for as long as we are watching.  As soon as our backs are turned, they tend to do their own thing.  This makes our aggression a waste of time.
  • Aggression can make us feel good for a short while but is it worth it?

Assertiveness
The aim of assertiveness is to find the best possible solution for all people.  It’s about finding `win:win’ solutions.  [Here I need to assert my own belief.  I believe that if there is a win, there is also a loss!  I prefer the term “grow:grow.”]  Assertiveness sees everyone as equal with equal rights and equal responsibilities.

  • Assertiveness increases the chances of our needs being met.  If we are able to tell people what we want without becoming aggressive, they will be more likely to help us.  Also, if they can’t help us and we are able to accept that without becoming aggressive they will remain friends.
  • Assertiveness allows us to remain in control.  We can decide for ourselves what we want to do and then seek out opportunities to do it – or to do something similar.  It puts us back in the driving seat.
  • Assertiveness brings greater self-confidence.  As we learn to take control and see what we can achieve our confidence increases.  This in turn increases our feelings of self worth and self esteem.  We begin to feel better – more effective.
  • Assertiveness lets us have greater confidence in others.  This is because it also helps others to state their needs and wants.  By dealing honestly and fairly with them we encourage them to do the same with us.
  • Assertive people have more friends.  As we begin to treat people more fairly they begin to trust us, to like us and to want to spend more time with us.  We make friends who truly respect us instead of walking all over us (passivity) or fearing us (aggression).
  • Reduced stress.  The more in control we feel the less stressed we feel.  We don’t need to worry about doing things we’d rather not.  We don’t have to let other people control us.  Nor do we have to worry about trying to control other people.  We have the power to choose our own destiny.

Remember that there are many ways to interact with others.  We can inform, explain, discuss, or simply have a relaxed conversation.  It’s often useful to know in advance precisely, how you intend to interact.

The article continues.  I do not necessarily agree with the premises or phrasing in the latter portions of this presentation.  Therefore, I am choosing to assert myself.  I will offer one further aspect though I have chosen to alter one term.  The author speaks of “rights” and states the “right” we each have as individuals.  I might list those however, I experience that most people are very familiar with their rights.  

Rarely do they acknowledge what social scientists term as “responsibilities.”  I struggle with that word for I, as many cringe when another person declares that we must be responsible.  Often the speaker of this dictum is not.  Therefore, I will replace the word responsibility with a phrase, “I can consciously choose.”

Dear reader, the choice is yours.  Please consider we will get what we give.  That we cannot control.

  • I can consciously choose to treat others fairly, honestly and with respect for their dignity.
  • I can consciously choose my own actions and their consequences.
  • I can consciously choose to uphold the rights of others whenever I can.
  • I can consciously choose my own decisions.
  • I can consciously choose to be aware and acknowledge my role in my own life.  
  • I can consciously choose to accept, what happens to me is, generally, a result of my own decisions.

When we question the value of war, if we are honest with ourselves we will realize there is none.  Aggression need not be our habit, preference, or option, first or last.  We can assert ourselves.  We can and must acknowledge that we have rights and privileges; yet, we must remember that others have the same.  Theirs are equal to our own, no less worthy and no more.  

Yes, speak up when you feel threatened; defend yourself assertively.  However, you need not do so aggressively.  Realize that if you choose conflict, you will get what you ask for.  The force with which your enemy engages will be equal and opposing.  I invite us as a nation and as individuals, to acknowledge peace is the greatest path.  When we truly pursue tranquility, we understand war is not an option, ever.  May peace be with you, everyone.

* On American Independence Day, July 4, 2006, this nation celebrates war or freedom, depending on your chosen perspective.  North Korea fires its test missiles.  Their mission is to exert their independence or to initiate war.  We choose; they will act in kind.  They have already.  We show our strength and our ability to engage in war.  They offer the same.  Assertiveness or Aggressive attacks, which cycle will be chose this time?

Please, sing it with me.  War, By Edwin Starr

Peruse if You Choose.  No Worries.  No War . . .

A Global Strike Plan, With a Nuclear Option, By William Arkin. The Washington Post.  Sunday, May 15, 2005

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

Mothers and Daughters; Myth and Meaning ©


Author and Linguist Deborah Tannen recently released a book titled, “You’re Wearing That?  Understanding Mothers and Daughters In Conversation.” In an interview with journalist, Terrence McNally, Ms. Tannen was asked of the unique relationship between mothers and daughters; the author responded as one might expect.  Tannen spoke of what most consider conventional patterns of communication between the two.  As I read, I realized, I could not relate.

Year ago I was an avid reader of Ms. Tannen’s work; I inhaled her every word.  I still think her research is infinitely valid and valuable; however, only for a select few.  The few may be the majority; they are just not I.  I suspect my own sisters might connect to the conclusions Linguist Tannen offers on the subject of mother daughter interactions.  Still, I do not.
Much of my life experience differs greatly.  Perhaps, my experience is not contrary, it may merely be my perception, and understanding of these that conflicts with what is thought customary.

Tannen suggests that “Mothers see their job as being helpful, taking care of us, being protective, but anything you do in that vein always implies criticism.  If you weren’t doing something wrong, you wouldn’t need that advice, help or protection.”  This theory clashes with everything my Mom ever said of her approach and philosophy to parenting.  It varies with all that she practiced.  That is, if you are asking me and not my siblings.

When I was five years old, a new neighbor, Cheryl moved in.  She had one of these mothers.  I would go to her house and observe the interactions between my now friend and her mother.  It was like watching television.  I thought; I want a mother like this.  I even told my Mom about Mrs. Sheldon and how wonderful she was.  Mrs. Sheldon was the exact the opposite of my Mom.  I wondered aloud, why was this.

Mrs. Sheldon cooked and cleaned for her husband and children.  The other family members needed to do nothing.  In the Sheldon family the mother picked out the clothes the family would wear.  She combed Cheryl’s hair, her son Allen’s too.  She bought and served Wonder<sup>TM</sup&gt bread.  Oh, how I hungered for that.  At my house, it was brand X or even worse homemade breads.  

Cheryl’s Mom was always looking in on Cheryl and Allen.  They did not have much alone time.  In my house, private time  was often on the menu.  I spent much time playing, reading, rearranging furniture, and drawing on my own.  Opportunities to contemplate the world were ample.  In those early years, I thought, this “too much.”  I wanted a mom as attentive as Cheryl’s, or so I believed until I was eight.

At the age of eight, while over at Cheryl’s house I realized Mrs. Sheldon was telling Cheryl what to think, say, do, feel, and who to be most of the time.  My Mom never did that.  Berenice was always consistent; she practiced, as she believed.  Unlike Mrs. Sheldon, or the mother Dr. Deborah Tannen describes, my mother offered very little, if any, visible signs of protection.  

Invisible criticisms were nonexistent in my mind.  Advice was scarce, so scarce I recall none addressing a specific incident or decision.  I would seek it and always receive the same response.  “Do what ever makes you happy as long as it does not hurt anyone.”  If I bothered to probe, further I would hear these words, a philosophy my Mom lived by “No one has the right to tell you what you should think, say, do, feel, or be.”  Thus, she never did.

My Mom shared her opinions openly on religion, sex, politics, and all the subjects others think taboo.  She never told me that I needed to believe as she does.  Actually, she encouraged my exploring for myself.  If I disagreed with her views, I felt very safe saying so.  We would discuss our differences eternally. Dialogue was promoted.  Barbara Ruth believed “Question everything,” even authority, whatever that is.  She offered infinite opportunities to do so.

Long before my birth, a magazine rack was placed near the toilet in every bathroom.  Many members of my family spent a good amount of time on the bowl.  Within these stands were biology books written for a very young audience.  There were also natural science texts for the adults.  In each, the topic of reproduction was covered.  Periodically, my Mom would casually “quiz” me on my understanding of these materials.  By the age of five, she felt I was fluent.  Finally, those talks ended.

At six, while at school or camp I would hear my peers telling “dirty jokes.”  I thought these are so silly.  These people are totally uniformed.  In my home, there were three hardbound “dirty joke” manuscripts, also in the lavatory.  These were funnier than any playground puns.  These volumes often played with the visual.  Drawings of how a short man’s body fit so tightly into the profile of a taller busty woman’s were a vivid treat for me.

My Mother never worried of my appearance.  She trusted I knew what was best for me.  Berenice Barbara always believed you raise your children to be autonomous.  That was her intent and her custom.  By an early age, I had learned to iron.  I cannot remember a time in early childhood when she would not explain how to determine the quality of a fabric, whether we were buying towels or clothing. She would think aloud and I would learn why she preferred one purchase or another.

My Mom never told me what to buy or wear.  She let me experiment.  As a teen, another close friend, Dawn, was given a dollar amount to spend on her fall wardrobe.  Though it seemed she was free to shop, she was not.  Every purchase had to be approved by her parents.  I could not imagine such a restriction.

The interesting thing is I was never wild, rebellious, or resentful.  I had no reason for dissent.  I think because we spoke of everything, because I had the freedom to error, I felt no compulsion to do so.

My parents politics were quite radical, our life style never was.  It was very conservative.  There were principles.  These were made known, though not presented as limitations.  The rational was offered, conversations were continual, and life was consistent.  What was said would be done.  If there was reason to vary, that too was discussed.  I think this gave me a sense of security, self, and a feeling of conviction that could not be compared.

In my middle schools years, I was purposely exposed to a world where sex, drugs, and violence were easily accessible.  Though I hung-out with the “cool kids,” when they engaged in these follies, I chose to leave.  None of these seemed interesting to me.  I always felt that my Mom knew she could be sure of my decisions and me.  In truth, for decades, she trusted me when I did not trust myself!

Now if you ask at least one of my sisters of her relationship with our mother, you will hear a different tale, the specifics may or may not match.  Nevertheless, the reverence will be lost.  A few years ago, this sibling mentioned her feelings about our mother.  She said, “I never liked Mommy.”  She inquired, did I?  I quietly laughed to myself.  I thought she knew; actually, I always imagined this was among the reasons she and I were not closer.  “I like and love Mommy.”  Were she not my mother I would absolutely choose to know her; she is infinitely interesting to me.

I also think people change constantly.  My Mom had me at a much later age.  She had evolved as a person and made conscious decisions about her parenting preferences.  Who my Mom is to me is not who she was to my siblings.  She grew.

My sisters are their own beings.  Their history, background, and experiences are unique to them, as is their analysis of such.  I think this true for all of us.

As I assess the extreme differences of opinion between my sister and myself, I observe as my Mom often espoused, “You get what you expect.”  I think more often then not, it is not our gender that guides our encounters, nor is it our title, mother, daughter, father, or son.  It is what we experience individually; it is how we internalize the events of our lives.  The unique emotions evoked during an exchange have more power than any given encounter.  We can label these, generalize these, look for those that validate our beliefs, still, we create the space that a person, place or entity occupies in our mind.

In the “Art of Loving” by Erich Fromm, I recall reading descriptions of mothers and fathers.  Fromm spoke of mothers as the nurturing parent, the person that offered unconditional love, or at least that was my interpretation of his words.  Perhaps, I read, as I believe, because it more closely parallels my own experience.  Erich Fromm was among my Mom’s favorites.  This too many have influenced my understanding.

I treasure my Mom.  A close friend of ours once observed he knew many mothers and their daughters, though some were friends, there always seemed a hidden sense of obligation.  He noted, with my Mom and I it was clear, we just like each other.

I wish to share this, the first paragraph in a letter I wrote to Berenice, my Mom years ago; I wanted her to know how special she was and is to me.  I thank you Deborah Tannen for giving me reason to reflect.  Ms. Tannen, I read of how much your Mother meant much to you, in that we are the same.  Only our relationships differed.

I love you Mommy . . .
    This letter may have been written, attempted, and mailed many times in the past, but there is still so much I want you to know about my great thanks for you being you and allowing me to be me.  There is so much I want to learn from you.  I want to hear your stories. I want to see life from your view!  I never seem to get enough of all that you are, all that you offer, all that you say, and all that you do!  I miss you even when I am with you because thanks to you, my appetite for learning is unlimited!  There is so much in your mind, in your actions, in your life, your thoughts, your feelings, that I miss the nuances; once is never enough.  Others laugh and understand the unique quality of our exchanges . . . Mom, I do too.

Relating To References  . . .

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

Isolation. Insulation. The Go-Go Garage Society and Its Islands ©

Days ago I was scanning My Left Wing and saw a diary that drew me in, “I Look at All the Lonely People.”  The author, Eugene, stated “I’ve never been one to have many close friends . . . I am very, very choosy with who I care to spend my time with, who I open up to.”  I thought, “Me too!”  I have been very selective all of my life and it has served me well.  Eugene’s words peeked my curiosity; thus, I continued.  

As his article expanded, I discovered that he was discussing a recently released study, “Social Isolation in America: Changes in Core Discussion Networks over Two Decades.”  This report revealed people in America no longer have the close ties they once did.  A quarter of the population has no one they confide in.  Most persons are fortunate to have one close friend, perhaps two.  Intimacies within families are not what they once were, or at least they are not as they were once believed to be.  People in America feel alone and isolated.  Interesting; now, I am among the “norm” and yet, simultaneously, still far from it.

  • People have a smaller number of confidants in 2004 than they had in 1985.
  • In 1985, most persons claimed to have three close friends; now they have two or less.
  • Twenty-five percent of the respondents said there was no one that they would turn to in times of trouble.

I think of myself as a loner.  I have very close friendships, many have lasted a lifetime. I am interested in people, anyone, and everyone.  Still, I am discriminating.  I want a genuine closeness or I want none.  I am extremely independent, autonomous, and some say I am a free spirit. I need no one.  I am not a leader; nor am I a follower.  I believe in communities; yet, I do not seek them.  I accept that I am a part of a universal village.  I am I; I think that is best or at least it is best for me.

However, social scientists and authors of this recently released study might disagree and they have reason to, Professors, Lynn Smith-Lovin, Miller McPherson, and Matthew E. Brashears are concerned that Americans no longer have a sense of community, neighborhood, or kinship.  We have become fragmented.  These sociologists state a lack inclusion hurts our social and psychological well-being.  I agree with this creed.  

Still, I prefer my dichotomy of an existence, a separation between seeking support for emotional matters and not for physical.  I recognize that each is necessary.  I acknowledge community and connections are vital, even if, at times, I do not engage as completely as I might.  Communities provide in ways that nothing else can.  I share my story to illustrate this belief.

Throughout my life, whether, I had someone to support me when I had a physical need or not, I would not ask for assistance.  As I stated, during times of emotional crisis, I would turn everywhere.  I absolutely will engage when I am feeling confused.  Fortunately, I have cultivated true friends for such occasions.  However, physically, I prefer taking care of myself.  

Twice in my life, I experienced an injury.  On each occasion, I needed the assistance of others.  This was difficult for me.  I rather not ask for help; nor do I wish to accept it.  

I do not believe in accidents.  I think everything happens for a reason. At the time of these incidents, I chose to accept that I needed to learn from these experiences of asking for and receiving help.  I thought I had, at least a little; however, it took months for me to assess the rationale for this next event.

Years ago, I moved into a condominium.  It was my first experience of “home ownership.”  I could not afford much and I wanted to stay in the community I loved.  I had lived in an apartment in Irvine, California for eight and one half years.  I purchased my new home exactly one mile down the road.  Prices are high in Orange County, California, particularly in a desirable city such as Irvine.  The place I purchased did not have a garage.  In this garage-society, I wanted one.  Still, I knew, for a time sacrifices must be made.

Shortly after I moved in the Association passed out a poll; it asked whether we, as residents wanted a garage and what would we pay for it.  Thirty-nine percent indicated they did want more than the pre-existing carports and the price proposed seemed reasonable.  I was among these, the minority.  Fifty one percent said no and they had their reasons.

Among my nearest neighbors, most of whom had lived there for well over a decade, the vote was no.  We were told that in three years, we would be polled again.  Aesthetically, the carports were ugly; nonetheless, I grew to love these.  Each day, accidentally, and on purpose, those in the neighborhood would met and greet each other in the carports.

Many of us were on similar schedules.  Mike would sit curbside and have a smoke throughout the day.  Our homes were on walking paths and did not face a street per se.  Therefore, it was natural to use the door closest to the car as an entrance or exit way.  Children did this; they brought their friends in through the back door.  Neighbor did the same.  If they wanted to share a thought, converse of the day, or borrow a cup of sugar, they approached from the rear.  The alleyway was a busy thoroughfare.

It did not take long before I appreciated being garage-less.  Though I never felt truly close to my neighbors in those first two years, we were far more than cordial.  

Then, while less than a mile from home, I was hit hard.  I was in a very serious car accident.  The Great-Gray-Girl, what some think of as an automobile lost her life, as she worked to save mine.  [Oh, the tears flow.  She was truly my friend and we were connected.]  I was badly injured.  I broke my sternum, four ribs, and I reluctantly say there was great damage to my heel.  I will not share the details.  I do not want that thought to be part of my reality.  

What is part of my reality is, I am among the 44 to 50 million, depending on whose numbers you prefer, that does not have health insurance.  Nevertheless, I spent days in the hospital.  This was an experience in itself and though I was eventually released, I was told I would not be allowed to walk for approximately six months.  

Those that know me recognize that my lying in bed was not likely.  Still I could not apply any weight to my foot, leg, or heel, and crutches gave me no stability.  With the abdominal injuries, the pain was too great.  I elected to crawl.

I was housebound and extremely restricted.  I lived alone.  My father did fly out from the Midwest to help me; however, he could only give me a few days.  We wondered; what would I do.  

For those not familiar with California, particularly in the megalopolis that is Southern California, people are known for being impersonal.  Neighbors do not know those living adjacent to them.  I recall at work one day co-workers mused, the only time they saw their neighbors was during an obligatory Christmas gathering.  I knew that my experience was different, though I never expected what occurred.

While still in the hospital I contacted a friend of mine.  We swam together, almost daily for years; I knew she would miss me if I did not show at the pool.  She visited me in the hospital and offered her help.  She was more than there for me.  Helen took me to the doctors, did all my food shopping, as a retired nurse she was able to teach me to walk again when I was more able.  She did so much to assist me in my recovery.  However, I would never ask her to play nursemaid in my every waking moment.

My father worried, how would I care for myself?  Who would make my meals, feed the kitties, change the litter, just help me to make my life work.  One day, just before he needed to return to his home, he was out in the carport.  He was on his way to run an errand.  My father was entering his car when my neighbor Laura approached him.  She asked of me.  She knew something was wrong.

While I was in the hospital, Laura noticed friends of mine had come to feed the kitties.  My car was gone.  She saw me return to the house and observed I was not in the best of conditions.  My vehicle never returned; my father stayed, she was concerned and expressed this to my Dad.  

My father shared the situation and voiced his fear for my being home alone once he left.  Laura said to fear not.  She immediately contacted all my neighbors and drew up a plan.  The entire block coalesced.  For the first month someone fed me breakfast, another lunch, a third gave me dinner.  Laura sat with me for hours every evening so that I might bathe safely.  

I need to add; I do not eat processed food, none at all.  Therefore, preparing meals for me was more than dashing off to McDonald’s.  People cooked, cleaned fruit and vegetables.  They worked.  Laura’s daughter gathered my mail and emptied my trash.  Others did other tasks.  Each day was an event, a never-ending chain of care.  By the second month, I could prepare some meals though not all; dinner was too complex.  Mike a noteworthy chef was there to create gourmet delicacies, just for me.  Laura retained her post at bath time for three and one half months.  Evening time with her family was devoted to me.  Heels do not heal quickly.

During my time of need, many of my friends and neighbors did much to help me.  They were there for me each and every day in ways I never imagined. Their giving of themselves meant and still means so much!  There are no words to express how significant and magnificent this was and is to me.  Again, the tears flow.

My father flew in every five or six weeks to assist and relieve others temporarily.  There was no money exchanged.  Actually for a short time, I tutored Laura’s daughter in math so that I might earn money.  I was unable to walk or drive for five months.  For all that time, people assisted me.  There was never a complaint.  Years later, the neighbor experienced another grief.  A young man passed; it was unexpected.  Again, we all reached out and were there for each other.

I discovered as this study concludes, when people are more connected, as a whole, they feel safer and more secure.  Oddly, coming from me, a person can receive comfort without loosing one’s independence.  You can still say, yes, please help me, or no, I need to do this myself.  

People enjoy helping others, they do not necessarily feel a need to overpower or overwhelm another.  From my experience, we all want to give and receive help; however, we may not know how.  As society changes, we have fewer exemplars to teach us.

Since 1985, the number of family members in the paid labor force has increased.  Women are working in larger numbers.  Many children are also employed.  So much time is spent away from home; there are few opportunities to form genuine, true, and life long relationships even with family members.  

Familial togetherness seems to be a thing of the past.  Divorce is pervasive.  Children are shipped from one household to another.  They do not have a single bed to call their own.  Bedtimes and even siblings may vary from week to week.  “True” friendships are viable on screens. This takes a toll on the psyche of a young mind.  It would weigh heavily on me at any age.

The concept of dinnertime is antiquated.  Families no longer feast together daily; some are not even doing a weekly meal in the company of their kin.  Rarely do we witness a once traditional pattern, parents, and siblings sitting together while enjoying a meal and each other’s company.  This is sad and troublesome.  Much can be learned from our relatives when we slowly dine and discuss life together.  We glean a sense of who they are; trust grows.

Meals are now eaten on the run, at work, at a desk, while driving; often people eat alone, not necessarily because they want to, but because they feel so alone.  Gone are the days when a meal was cooked at home, many sharing in the preparation.  Even when a family shares a space and a time for dinner, the menu differs for each individual. Unity is lost.  It may seem a little nuance; however, I wonder if it is a reflection of a broader issue.

The character of conversations has changed and this might be another reason Americans perceive a distance between themselves, their blood relatives, and their neighbors.  Cell phones, e-mails, and the Internet dominate, in this culture of connectedness.  Yet, these might contribute to the disconnect we experience.  Tête-à-têtes are chatty.  Substance is missing.  People have little to no time or experience for genuine friendships.  They are flying from one situation to another.

Parents are working.  It takes two or more incomes to survive.  Thriving is rarely a consideration in today’s workforce.  Jobs are at a premium; they are hard to find, and it is a challenge to keep them.  Your neighbor or your associate is no longer a friend or a confidant.  They are the person that might “steal” your not too well-cemented position at the company.  For the most part, be it in friendships, within our families, or even at work, Americans do not have a sense of security or stability.  All they know is an overscheduled life style.

We, as Americans sense a need for something.  We search.  We seek; rarely do we stop long enough to discover, what we longed for all along was there, right in our backyard.

* I am so conflicted; I want to share the names of all those that helped me.  Yet, I was hesitant to verbalize the names that I did offer.  There are so many of you that gave months of your life to me.  I cannot begin to thank you enough!!!  I love you all.  You are very special beings.

The Initial Inspirations For This Writing . . .

Listen to an Interview with co-author of the study, Lynn Smith-Lovin of Duke University
* Social Isolation: Americans Have Fewer Close Confidantes, Debbie Elliott All Things Considered, National Public Radio. June 24, 2006
Read One of My Personal Favorite Writings on Balancing Work and Family
* My Family Leave Act. [Op-Ed] Robert B. Reich. New York Times. November 8, 1996

References For Reflection

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

This Could Be You! Homeless in America ©


June 20, 2006, was World Refugee Day.  Upon realizing this,  I was guilt ridden.  I did not know that there was a day in which we honored expatriates, persons in exile, or people that were without a home, a community, adequate food, shelter, or homeless.  I wrote of this in World Refugee Day.  What Does This Mean To U.S.?  ©.  In this tome, I briefly  spoke of our homeless in America; however, my focus was on those that live in far off lands.  

Some readers were ready to read my underlying message, others glossed over it.  People responded; yet, they did not.  I realize it is easier to see what is external to our selves.  Looking at our own “stuff” can be far more stressful than dissecting what is happening to others.  Nevertheless, I think we must discuss what is occurring in our own backyards.  

There are millions of homeless persons in American.  
I see them each day on streets near my home.  Over the years, I have spoken to quite a few, though not enough.  My interactions with these individuals were invaluable; they and their stories have become part of me. I will share anecdotes in this treatise.

In retrospect, I fear the ample coverage of problems aboard overwhelmed me.  I think it the reporting was vital, though as my missive on World Refugees, incomplete.  I need to correct my error.  I want to be more expansive and open.  I need to place the mirror where we can all peer into it.  I invite you to reflect with me.

Currently, according to by the Urban Institute approximately 3.5 million persons in America have been homeless for a significant period.

This number equates to one percent of the population.  Among these are 1.35 million children.  In New York City alone, more than 37,000 of these homeless individuals stay in shelters each evening.  Of these sixteen thousand [16,000] are children.  

The National Alliance to End Homelessness states

Homelessness does not discriminate.  Families with children, single adults, teenagers, and elderly individuals of all races can be found struggling with the devastating effects of homelessness.

The primary cause of homelessness is a lack of affordable housing.  Over 5 million low-income households have serious housing problems due to high housing costs, substandard housing conditions, or both.

The Economic Policy Institute offers more sobering facts.

* Twelve [12] million adults in the United States currently are or have been homeless at some point in their lives [National Coalition for the Homeless].
* One of the largest and fastest growing groups of homeless folks are families with children.  They are approximately 40% of the homeless population, mostly with single mothers as the head of the household.
* On average, a homeless family has 2.2 children [Department of Housing and Urban Development [HUD].
* Anywhere from 25% to 38% of homeless people are children [National Coalition for the Homeless, Urban Institute].
* 33% of homeless men are veterans [HUD].

It is likely, these numbers are inaccurate.  They may be very low.  The actual figures are probably higher.  Homeless people, even those only on the verge, anticipating what might come, tend to hide.  They do not feel safe.

Paranoia can set in when people shun you, when they look away at the sight of you.  When the majority, of individuals within a “civilized” society, consider you disgraceful, and they say this to your face, you are not likely to feel free when you are among them.  Few homeless persons have any desire to be noticed or counted.  The gathering of statistics does not serve the dispossessed and destitute.  Numbers collected and stored in databases do not provide for the needs of the needy.  People living on the streets realize no benefit from tallies.  In truth, there are plenty of repercussions.

I know this from experience.  I cannot recount my life as a homeless person; I hope I will never be able to, though I fear, as I think many quietly do when considering the topic, “That could be me.”

Years ago I was distressed by what I saw as a growing situation.  It seemed to me that more people were down-and-out.  I lived in the area of the country known for its wealth, Orange County, California.  Yet, everywhere I turned there were homeless people.  Some were asking for a handout, others were looking for a helping hand.  Most were offering to work.  A few were working for whatever change might be given.

I found this disquieting by what I saw as the greater depression.  I was a student at the time and realized I could create a project that documented what I saw as the “Greater Depression.”  I set out to interview the indigent population in my area.  I planned to videotape, audiotape, and photograph individuals as I interviewed them.  I first approached a man I saw on a busy highway, Brookhurst Street.  He held a sign asking for work; I requested an interview.  

A friend of mine was with me holding a very small video camera.  As he saw us move toward him, he smiled.  Once he noticed the camera, he covered his face.  I spoke to him of my project and requested his permission to document our conversation.  This gentleman assured me, he was open to the dialogue; however, he wanted no recording of this.  He expressed his fear that his daughter, thousands of miles away, living in New Jersey might discover his plight.  He had been homeless for years; yet, he never told her.  He was discomfited enough without her knowing.

The soft-spoken man, a human being of greatness, spoke of his loving wife.  In year’s prior, he had been a successful man, a person of prominence and position.  He owned a home, right there in Orange County.  In this moment I do not recall whether it was in Huntington Beach, Fountain Valley, or another suburb close by.  I remember his face, his story, and the sorrow with which he shared these, more vividly than that detail.

His wife became ill.  It was cancer.  She was sick for quite some time and needed care.  He wanted to be by her side, to help her.  Years passed, bills mounted, insurance did not cover all the expenses.  Finally, after a long and hard-fought battle, her body left this Earth.  He missed her.  He lost much, his love, his lifeline, his home, and his own health.  Now, he was only seeking hope.  I sigh as I recall this man, his misery, and his kindness.  I am grateful that he spoke with me.

I walked on.  I went to Mile Square Park in Fountain Valley.  There I stumbled upon two gentlemen, lying in the grass.  They did allow some photographs to be taken though none came out well.  We discussed their situation.  Fountain Valley had been good to them.  What they found in trash-bins was worthy.  The park was pleasant.  They too had their hardships.  They had lost hope and found comfort in the life they had.  For years, they had sought work.  Bathing, being presentable, finding transportation, all were barriers to their success.  They spoke of how people assume drugs or alcohol were the cause for homelessness.  As they recounted their stories they assured me, for them, nothing was further from the truth.

Then I went to downtown Santa Ana, just outside of the courthouse.  A woman quickly drew near.  She feared for my safety.  She too was indigent.  She wanted me to know as she knew, this was no place for a white woman with a camera, even a male accompaniment could not save her if the situation got tough.

My friend and I roamed the streets.  Most allowed us to photograph them.  Some were too sleepy to engage us.  Others offered their anecdotes.  All were very kind.  Most were  sick and tired; the time without creature comforts took a toll.

Some of you may have read of my more recent experience with a homeless man and how he helped me to remember the importance of man’s humanity to man.  I fear too often we forget.  We do not want to see, hear, or experience what we create, ghettos, slums, and places unfit for survival.

Since earliest childhood, I theorized this is why, in America, we build freeways.  We do not wish to see our inner cities.  The general-public does not want to know how those on the other side of the tracks live.  Citizens in this, the richest country in the world, prefer to hide the poor, the impoverished, the ill, and the homeless behind walls of concrete where they will not be seen or heard from.

Americans have hidden what they prefer not to see since early in our history.  The industrial revolution gave rise to a greater acceptance of blight; as cities grew, so too did man’s inhumanity to his fellow man.  However, the damage caused by the Industrial Revolution is nothing in comparison to that done during the Regan Revolution and beyond.

Former President Ronald Reagan was a man known for fantasy.  Author Gary Wills wrote of this in his all too obscure biography, Reagan’s America.  Reagan imagined his childhood, youth, and service to his country to be the ideal it was not.  Ronald Reagan, single handedly created a homeless population that was never seen or imagined before.

Carol Fennelly, Director of Hope House in Washington says,

In fact many homeless rights activists say the single most devastating thing Reagan did to create homelessness was when he cut the budget for the Department of Housing and Urban Development by three-quarters, from $32 billion in 1981 to $7.5 billion by 1988.  The department was the main governmental supporter of subsidized housing for the poor.  Add this to Reagan’s overhaul of tax codes to reduce incentives for private developers to create low-income homes and you had a major crisis for low-income families and individuals.  Under Reagan, the number of people living beneath the federal poverty line rose from 24.5 million in 1978 to 32.5 million in 1988.

And the number of homeless people went from something so little it wasn’t even written about widely in the late 1970s to more than 2 million when Reagan left office.

As the rich got richer under Reagan, the poor became increasingly poorer.  The mentally ill did not fare well under the Reagan Administration.  Social Services funding was cut.  After Reagan, left office little improved.  When speaking of the then dire dilemma of homelessness, George Herbert Walker Bush declared the budget was tight, the deficit deep, and “We will turn to the only resource we have that in times of need always grows–the goodness and the courage of the American people.”

The American people were not ready, willing, or able to cope with their own circumstances, let alone help the homeless.  Corporations had other priorities, their profits.  Nothing trickled down.  The situation worsened.  Under Clinton, the economy improved; funding for programs to help homeless increased.  There were great strides.  Still, once people slid into the abyss and suffered.  Recovery is slow,  living on the streets takes a toll..

Under George W. Bush, the bludgeoning began again; the destitute took a severe beating.  The National Coalition for the Homeless offered this report Bush Budget Leaves No Millionaire Behind As He Proposes Massive Cuts To Programs For Homeless and Low-Income People, stating,

On February 6th, 2006, President Bush sent his proposed $2.77 trillion FY2007 budget to Congress.  His proposals would cut $600 million from the Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), a 1.8% decrease from the FY06 appropriations; and funding for Health and Human Services (HHS) discretionary programs would decline by $1.6 billion.

While the President’s proposed budget does increase funding in some areas, the Homeless Assistance Grants increased by $209 million and Housing for People with AIDS (HOPWA) saw a $14 million increase, it makes these increases by making reductions in other programs for low-income people, not by finding new resources.

The homeless situation is subverted easily. American society tends to blame and  shames the victims.  they feel no responsibility for their plight.  Then and now, people think the homeless are strong single males that simply do not wish to work.  They believe these individuals are strung out on drugs or booze.  They think them hapless, helpless, and of little value.  Most Americans look away when they encounter the dispossessed or down-and-out.  They do not move towards these people.  

Few citizens within the United States know the destitute are as they are.  They are our mothers, fathers, sons, and  daughters.  Many have served this nation well.  They have protected us during times of war.  Some are afflicted with a mental illness.  They all need our help.

As people, we love lending a helping handsome will raise a barn for our neighbors, as long as we know them or feel as though we might.  Katrina brought some movement.  When we saw our neighbors in New Orleans destitute, we were devastated.  We acted on their distress for days  

Popular television programs such as NBCs The Today Show, invited Habitat for Humanity to build houses on their sets.  Donations poured in from people across the states.  The Red Cross was flooded with contributions.  Sadly, little help reached the people.  However, once the limelight dimmed and these people became as other homeless were, out of the public eye, everything went back to the status quo out of mind out of sight.

The public no longer saw the need of their neighbors; they saw the scruffy, unkempt, and disheveled standing there with their hands out.  The news changed.  Talk of larceny, theft, aggravated burglary filled the airwaves, and once again, the poor were the source of “our” pain.

Americans are often heard to say, “God or man, helps people that help themselves.”  In the minds of many of our countrymen, people must appear “presentable,” “respectable,” and “savvy” before they are willing to assist them further.  We want our neighbors to look like us.  The homeless may have at one time; however, when we encounter them, they do not.  Therefore, we look away when we are in their company.

Instead, we like to speak of  refugees abroad and feel badly.  We express a desire to reach out, some  actually do work to assist those in other nations.  However rarely, do we help those residing in our own house, the dispossessed in America.

We do not want to look in the mirror; we fear seeing what we could become.  Many of us live from paycheck to paycheck.  A small catastrophe could wipe us out, physically, emotionally, or financially.  Intellectually, we know this; however facing this scares us.  We rather not and therefore, we don’t.

When we observe a homeless person on the street, most of us will look away.  We do not wish to think about what we accept in America; nor do we wish to see what we create.  It is too painful.  If we focus on refugees in lands far from our own, we will not have to ponder what we know to be true, “That could be me!”

I invite you to look, to learn, to listen, and speak with a homeless person in your neighborhood.  Get to know them as people, as individuals.  Let them tell you their story and realize, that you can make a difference.  Together we, as a society can change this situation.  If we choose, we can, again, care for our neighbors.  We as a nation can and “ought” to establish policies that prompt man’s humanity to man.  After all, our forefathers wrote “the Government ought to be instituted for the common benefit, protection and security of the people.”  Let us do as the founders proposed.  Let us secure “the enjoyment of life” for all of our citizens.

Organizations That Help The Homeless . . .

References That Touch The Topic of Homelessness . . .

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

World Refugee Day. What Does This Mean To U.S.? ©


Yesterday morning I awoke to news that I wish I had known earlier.  “Today, June 20, 2006, is World Refugee Day.”  I found my own lack of awareness for the date troubling.  I pondered further; I wondered of our collective consciousness.  

Currently, there are fifteen to twenty million refugees.  There may be more.  There are millions of persons without a home, a community, a family, or any real belongings.  These individuals have experienced violence that few of us in the can imagine.  We sit in our safe havens, and occasionally, we watch the misery on television.  We read of their lives, and the plight these people suffer.  At times, some American citizens acknowledge that the refugees have lost their homes and their health.  Their existence has been threatened.  We know something; yet, we understand little.  Our lives in the U.S. are so separate from those that were banished from their homeland.  It is beyond sad.

As I reflect on the homeless in distant lands, I remember, there are those here in the United States that are also without permanent shelter.
During and immediately after Katrina and Rita, America’s poor and homeless were exposed to the elements; many still are.  The storms gave light to those less fortunate within our borders; however, only, temporarily.  

Some of these persons were seen by the masses; nevertheless, the focus was fleeting.  Not long after the hurricanes America’s impoverished, injured, and ill citizens were once again hidden.  These refugees joined the millions of American citizens who were without shelter before the squalls.  The numbers are staggering.  We may never have an accurate count for what we prefer to ignore.

Whether the life of a dispossessed American is as brutal as that of a refugee in distant lands, I know not with certainty.  Personal perspectives will differ.  I only know that I admit my own ignorance and this disturbs me.  I am bothered by my own complacency.  

The breath and scope of this situation is tragic.  Words such as Darfur, Sudan, and Rwanda are bandied about.  We discuss the unspeakable rapes in the Congo.  Yet, I suspect we do not relate, really.  

We sound so very informed; I think, truly we know nothing.  Few can fully imagine what life is like in these areas of the world.  

Citizens in the States say New Orleans is this nation’s lesson.  However, there is no real evidence that we are learning.

We in the United States think ourselves benevolent; we promise much.  However, we contribute little to assist those most in need.  We spend money at home and yes, even abroad.  Billions go to promoting war.  Peace and people, we pay lip service to that investment.  I trust that is not our intent.  I know personally, it is not mine.

Just as Morris Dees, founder of Southern Poverty Law Center advocates, I think it is vital, we must “Teach Tolerance.”  Yet, today I realized, I, and most of us in this affluent nation, are “too” tolerant.  We accept genocide, ethnic cleansing, racism, rampant and malicious rapes, and conditions we cannot imagine.  We endure these here at home in a moderate or muffled form and allow worse elsewhere.  We avoid knowing what we know.

I acknowledge that I am guilty of this.  For years, I have admitted such, and been embarrassed by my confession.  I believe in a global community.  I advocate this with my every breath; still, I attend to what is within my home country.  I feel so powerless.  I can barely effectuate change in the United States; how can I begin to broach an evolution elsewhere.

In this moment, I offer my words and resources.  I invite  each of us to investigate further and to take action.  I hope this information will advance awareness and eventually prompt a progression.  May we move from ignorance or tolerance to action.  Ultimately, let us end all oppression.  May people be free, healthy, and happy throughout the world.  May expatriates be a thing of the past.

Many may wonder who qualifies as a refugee.  Where are these persons from and where do they now live.  What issues do they face and how are we, as a planet, planning for their future.  I refer you to Humans Rights Watch.  This organization attempts to answer our questions.

Refugees International is also making an effort to inform.  This organization answers the traditional questions of “where we are” and “what we do.”  They also offer options for action.

Reuters reports of the situation in an article titled, “From Flight To Hope: The Compromised Existence of Refugees. U.S. and World communities Must Act Now.” In this essay, Janis D. Shields of American Friends Service Committee (AFSC) – USA discusses the problems facing “more than 20 million refugees, asylum-seekers, internally displaced persons, stateless persons and others throughout the world.”  She speaks of the deaths hey have witnessed, the family members they have lost, the destruction of communities, and identities lost.  Ms. Shields makes mention of the physical, mental and psychological violence these individuals have experienced and asks us all to help.

Ashoka is another organization interested in saving the world from itself.  Their “mission is to shape a citizen sector that is entrepreneurial, productive and globally integrated.”  Their goal is “to develop the profession of social entrepreneurship around the world.”  This group may also inspire any of us to act.

We hear of the conflict in Darfur; we might even read of the genocide.  As quoted from “Darfur: The Genocide We Can Stop” I offer this explanation.  

The Sudanese Government, using Arab “Janjaweed” militias, its air force, and organized starvation, is systematically killing the black Sudanese of Darfur. Over two and a half million people, driven from their homes, now face death from starvation and disease as the Government and militias attempt to prevent humanitarian aid from reaching them.

While this may say much, it might also leave some of us wondering.  We want to know and understand more.  We have questions.  The British Broadcasting Corporation offers some answers.  Please read, Q&A: Sudan’s Darfur conflict.

Cable News Network Senior Africa Correspondent Jeff Koinange writes of refuges in a brilliant exposé.  In an article titled, “No end in sight for Africa’s suffering masses, Mr. Koinange offers a unique perspective.”  His writing is personal and provides insights beyond those typically found in a news report.  I offer a short portion of his missive so that you, dear reader, may taste the life of a refugee.

Editor’s note: CNN’s Jeff Koinange has spent years covering events from Africa, including visiting war and disaster zones and following the lives of refugees forced from their homes. Here are his reflections on the U.N.’s World Refugee Day.

ENTEBBE, Uganda (CNN) — Just imagine for a moment that everything you own — from your hard-earned money to your home to your car to little mementos like pictures on the wall — has just been taken from you by a group of people who don’t like the way you look or the shade of your skin or the shape of your nose. Everything gone except, perhaps, the clothes on your back.

You’ve been forced to flee, probably separated from your family and end up on the run with a bunch of people you’ve never met, but with whom you now share a common goal — staying alive.

Many hours or even days later, you arrive at a shelter run by an international nongovernmental organization.

You’re tired, exhausted, sick to your stomach and scared to death. You end up sharing a tent with 40 to 60 other strangers where your bathroom, bedroom and kitchen combined have all been reduced to little more than the size of a normal bed.

And this will be your home for the next few months, perhaps years, and in some cases, decades. This is what it’s like for a person fleeing persecution, war, civil strife, genocide.
Imagine living like this for years if not decades, raising your family in a refugee camp because you can’t go home. Even if you do manage to go home, you learn someone else has taken over your land, your home, your life.

I’ve seen that person many times, that face that says, “I too once had it all but one day lost it all.” Faces of refugees across the Africa I’ve been traversing for the past decade and a half, from Liberia and Sierra Leone in West Africa, from Congo to Tanzania in the center of the continent and from Somalia to Sudan in the East.

Their stories are as heartbreaking as they are gut-wrenching, lives turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Another CNN reporter, Christiane Amanpour covers the refugee story as the CNN Chief International Correspondent.  Her viewpoint is also informative.  Ms. Amanpour shares her own story as a refugee.  She was an Iranian citizen and now lives in exile.  Ms Amanpour speaks of “The shocking truth about covering refugees.”

Editor’s note: CNN’s Christiane Amanpour has reported on refugee crises from many of the world’s conflict zones including Sudan, Somalia, Rwanda, the Balkans and Iraq. Here are her reflections on the U.N.’s World Refugee Day.

LONDON, England (CNN) — I suppose I am most attuned to the plight and particular circumstances of refugees, because I am one myself. When the Islamic Revolution swept Iran, my homeland, back in 1979, I left the country and came West. I ended up at a university and later at CNN in the United States.

I think this experience has helped me in my work as I have spent the past 16 years on the road covering war, crisis, poverty and famine. Their inevitable byproduct is refugees.

In 1991, shortly after the United States and its allies declared victory in the first Gulf War, I found myself covering the Iraqi Kurds — nearly 2 million of them, according to U.N. officials — who fled to neighboring Turkey and Iran and became refugees. They had followed a not-so-veiled suggestion by then-President George H.W. Bush to rise up against Saddam Hussein. A violent crackdown by Saddam killed many and forced the rest to flee. They came back only when the United States and its allies created a protected no-fly zone for them in northern Iraq.

Just a few months later began the Balkan revolving-refugee crisis, ethnic cleansing and genocide that consumed the 1990s. I witnessed that war for all those years and watched in horror as millions of men, women and children walked, ran or drove away from their killers and tormentors, to end up homeless, friendless and rootless in strange countries far from home. I’ll never forget the sad, lost, tear-stained little faces pressed against the rain-streaked windows of the buses they were packed in. They wanted to believe they would be leaving for only a short time, but they ended up staying away for years. About 650,000 have never returned 10 years after the war ended, U.N. refugee officials say, but the good news is that more than 2.5 million have come back.

There is much to be said.  This situation affects millions, though billions are avoiding it.  I only offer a glimpse into the world of refugees.  Further exploration must be yours, or mine. I can no longer put the refugees out of my mind.  They are not as the refuse I place at the curb for the trash man to take away. they are people, no different in make-up than you or I.  On World Refugee Day we honor the displaced, may we do this each and every day.  May we unite and begin being as we believe is best.

Please Plunge into Awareness.  Peruse the references offered below.

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

Failing Children, Accountability and Testing [FCAT] ©


* Dear reader, as you review this treatise, please consider, the parallels.  Pedagogy and poverty are poignant concerns in Florida and throughout the United States.

The results were announced; Florida students overwhelmingly failed the science portion of the Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test [FCAT].  More than two thirds of the population tested below grade level.  Science instructors are looking at the recent test results as an opportunity.  They have a chance to improve their curriculum.  The Science studies departments are planning more hands-on instruction.  They intend to attend seminars on how to best prepare students in the summer.

J.P. Keener, the supervisor of secondary science education for Broward County promotes the positive.  This official says, “we’re in a good position to line everything up to attack this exam seriously.”  Then, the administrator adds, “Now, the last part is the kids, and that’s the unpredictable part.”
The Broward County Director stresses the science test is not and will not be tied to graduation.  He extrapolates; students will have little incentive to excel.  However, even when an assessment test is attached to the ultimate reward, students in Florida still fail repeatedly.  Pupils that were unable to pass the mandatory FCAT high school exit exam after one or two trials are allowed to take the exam again.  Reports reveal that even when students have taken the tests on multiple occasions; a large number do not demonstrate mastery.

The Miami Herald reports, “Only a small and shrinking fraction of students who retook the state’s graduation test managed to pass.”  

Statewide, about 11,600 students — 8 percent of the state’s seniors — are expected to miss out on a diploma solely because of failing the exam, according to Education Commissioner John Winn.  Last year, that number was about 7 percent.

Just 12 percent of seniors and 14 percent of juniors passed the reading test in Miami-Dade County, continuing a steady decline.  In Broward County, 13 percent of seniors, and 19 percent of juniors passed.

Results on the math test were slightly higher, with passing rates ranging from 20 percent to 35 percent in South Florida.

Danielle Boyer, Chairwoman of the Social Studies Department at Miami’s Edison Senior High suggested, “they’re worried a lot and stressed a lot.”  In her school, there is a large foreign-born population.  

Ms. Boyer spoke of how they struggle.  She said, “They want to obtain their high school diploma; they understand its vital importance.”  Nevertheless, these students still are unable to pass a test they have taken before.  Chairwoman Boyer then offered, `many students in the high-poverty Little Haiti neighborhood must work or care for siblings, which cuts into their studying.’

However, I wonder if all those that fail are new immigrants.  I have personally observed and experienced many new émigrés excel.  Education is important to them and they see this as a path towards prosperity.  I offer this recent New York Times article as evidence of my contention.
* Immigration Math: It’s a Long Story, By Daniel Altman.  June 18, 2006

Within the text David Card, a Professor of Economics at the University of California, Berkeley says, “You can expect a child of immigrants whose parents have 10 years of education to do a lot better than a child of natives whose parents have 10 years of education.”  Card continues, being a child of immigrants, “sort of boosts your drive.”  

My suspicion is the country of origin may play a role however, as Professor Card and others note the structure of the family definitely influences what will come.  Experts contend, as I too experience and believe, a more important factor is poverty.  

Currently, nineteen percent of the children in Florida live below the poverty line.  They have not seen prosperity in their personal lives, and many struggle to imagine that it could be real.  Approximately ten percent of Florida families are defined as poverty stricken.  Close to five percent of married couples are at or below the poverty line.  Life in Florida can be grim.

I have lived in this state for seven months, and sadly, the results of these tests do not surprise me.  I had reason to spend time in some of the schools and on each occasion, I was astounded.  Granted, thus far, I have only been in the public schools and a large portion of the population in this South Eastern state receives their training in private institutions; nevertheless, there is an attitude here that seems pervasive.  I will identify it by quoting the oft-heard statement, “Welcome to Florida.”

Each time I struggle to locate a product or a person to assist me in completing a project this declaration is uttered.  This sentence is rarely recounted with a sense of sincerity; it is delivered sarcastically.  People here accept that if you need a service, supply, or a solution to any problem, you are not likely to find these here in Florida.  

In schools, from what I have witnessed, there is an assumption among many students, “school is just” a stomping ground, a weigh station; it holds no real worth or value.  Pupils empathically assure me, “kids will be kids.”  Learners I spoke with assured me they have no interest in being treated as wise and thinking individuals; they rather be thought of as “children.”  They say aloud, there is far less responsibility if others think of you as a youngster, a teenager, or an adolescent.  Few have serious expectations for them selves.  They do not want others to “require” “too much” of them.  

Within the framework that is their life, they cannot truly imagine more than what is.

“I am still young,” is an oft-heard mantra.  The inference is I will have time to learn later, “maybe when I am in my thirties,” said one student.  

A few students discussed their education with me; the consensus was it is not that important in their lives.  Many learners expressed a lack of opportunity.  Others wanted none.  They majority assumed they would work in a trade.  Few aspired to attend college.  A four-year degree was unthinkable.  Numerous pupils were surprised when I broached the subject.  Among those planning to enroll in a University, there was an amazing pre-occupation for play.  They said college and academics would come later.  For now, it seems, class lessons are not to be taken seriously, little is.  The future is too distant to consider.

Fortunately, I did meet a lovely high school student on the Tri-Rail.  She was planning for her career and looking forward to college; she knew exactly where she wanted to go.  However, she was not as I typically encountered in this state.  Interestingly, she is among the masses that attend a private school here.  I strongly suspect the private pupil is another class of student.  Still, I worry.  The FCAT test was given statewide; private and public school students were included in the results.  This troubles me and I would hope it troubles those residing within this state.  I have spoken to a few and again I am told, “Welcome to Florida.”  Florida seems to think itself different and in some ways, it is.  However, I fear that it is not.

In Florida, poverty and apathy may be more insidious, more obvious; yet, no less invasive than it might be elsewhere.

Florida, with its triple “A” [AAA] credit rating is among the poorest states in the country.  The state has mega-money; the people living here do not.  This, I believe is among the many reasons that students in Florida struggle.

According to A Research Report by Bruce Nissen and Jen Wolfe Borum, titled Working Poverty: Low Wage Workers in Florida,

Florida is a low wage state and many in Florida are working full-time and still poor.  Women, minorities, and immigrants are all more likely to work and still not escape poverty.  Florida has an unusually high percentage of low-wage jobs, due to its tourist-related economy.  Even more children live in poverty. Fully 19% of Florida children lived in officially-defined poverty in the year 2003.

The overall poverty rate for persons in Florida as measured in the 2000 Census was 12.5 percent.  This rate is slightly lower than in 1990 when 12.7 percent of the state’s residents lived in poverty.

Despite a decline in the poverty rate, the number of persons living in poverty increased by nearly 22 percent during the decade and totaled just under 2 million persons in 2000.  The number living in poverty in 1990 was 1.6 million persons.

Poverty rates varied greatly by age and by family composition.  While nearly one out of every five children in Florida lived in poverty in 1999 (17.6 percent), less than 1 in 10 of Florida’s 65 and older population had income below the poverty threshold (9.1 percent).  Older children, ages 5 through 17, had a poverty rate of 17.2 percent in 1999–lower than Florida’s youngest children but substantially higher than the elderly population.

Poverty rates vary greatly by race.  Individuals who reported that their race was black alone were more likely to be living below the poverty level at all ages.  Black rates ranged from 2.3 times the white rate at ages 18-64 up to 3.6 times the white rate at ages 65-74.  Poverty rates for persons of all other races (including individuals who reported more than one race) fell between the rates for whites and blacks.

“Florida has performed badly for quite some time.”  This from a report titled “Is Florida’s Economy Underperforming?” by Dr. Bruce Nissen of Florida International University, Center for Labor Research and Studies

In March 2004, Nissen wrote

It [Florida] is a low wage state by any standard.  Depending on the measure used (hourly wage, annual wage, median wage for a family of four, and so on) the state pays wages somewhere between 85% and 95% of national averages.  This usually places the state somewhere in the thirties out of the fifty states.

 

Money in Florida is a beguiling dynamic.  There are those that have ample amounts of dough and those that do not.  The disparity is astounding.  Eighty-percent of workers are employed in low income, service jobs.  Twenty percent do much better.  Many of the wealthiest persons, nation-wide retire here; yet they do not have school age children and therefore may demonstrate little interest in education issues/funding.

If a student comes from money, they receive more.  Money buys.  A pupil marinating in poverty will drown in it.  The rich will receive a richer education.  The poor will plunge further into oblivion.

In Florida, in inner cities nation-wide, and other poverty-stricken areas educators are distressed; however, in Florida, the accepted and expected apathy looms larger.  Many have given up, students among these.

Still, experts do as they do.  They evaluate the system and the science scores from a pedagogical point of view.  They look at the superficial, the tally, and teaching solutions.  Some of this talk is good and necessary.  I agree; we, as educators must look at the validity of standardized testing and teaching to the tests.  We must assess the systems within Florida.  

Academicians must study the notion that says, providing students with a two-tiered testing system is optimal.  We must wonder whether Florida is the model it is purported to be by those that support uniform testing.  Are two types of testing, low and high stakes examinations enhancing understanding; do they advance test-taking skills.  Is teaching to these [silly] tests worthwhile?  Are students learning lessons that will last a lifetime if curriculum is rote?

Educators must continue to promote creative curriculums.  Obviously, those that are not imaginative, inspired, and inventive are not working.  Still, I think the science scores must be evaluated more broadly.  we as a society must be honest with ourselves.  Education does not begin or end in our schools.  What happens in our nation’s homes does matter.  Parents and poverty teach more than professional educators might.  To be truly effective, I think we, as a society must evaluate education as a whole.  What an individual learns at home, on the streets, from proprietors, and from social order teaches more than we might think. Florida’s culture teaches its students to not expect much.  What happens in the students’ world cannot be separated.  The sum is far greater than the parts.

Plunge Into Pedagogy and Poverty . . .

and Benjamin Johnson. Immigration Policy

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

Lessons, Angst, and Challenges ©

I have blogged for quite some time; yet, I was oblivious to flame wars and the consequences of these.  When posting, I have received comments that were upsetting, even hurtful; still I never knew.  Recently, I stumbled on some hot blogosphere coals.  I saw how art imitates life, and life can be ugly.  Political posturing is that; yet, once pronouncements are made, some think them personal.  I offer a story and ask for discussion.  Please read, reflect, and share your thoughts.

“It is time to go to school,” mother calls gently.  “No, I don’t wanna!”  I scream.  I continue, “You can’t make me.”  “Oh yes, I can!” she exclaims.  Now she is getting angry.  I start calling her names and then I decide to play the martyr.  I say sobbingly, “You don’t love me anymore.”  Finally, I resort to lecturing her on the finer points of how to best raise a child.  I speak to her of what it means to be part of a loving family.  I cite chapter and verse, for surely she does not understand.  If she loved me, she would let me be.

She defends herself against my barbarous claims.  She attempts to provide examples.  I rant; I rage.  Who does she think she is?  She does not own me.  I am autonomous.  I know what is best for me.  We battle, we argue, and reluctantly, I trudge off to school.

For me, school is a calm place.  I excel in this environment.

I study, I learn, I am rarely challenged.  My teachers love me.  The other students think I am the best, the brightest, and I am.  Students, staff, faculty, and administrators admire me.  They appreciate my evenhandedness, and my peaceful approach to life.  They consider me a facilitator, a comrade, and a friend.  Though I am still a student, I have been given ample responsibilities.

In school, I am one of many, though I am acknowledged as an authority.  Teachers never question my statements, for I repeat what they have taught me.  On occasion, I may argue a position that they present, though the exchange is civil.  We are discussing only “facts.”  There are no personal attacks.  For me, classroom training is tranquil.  I may struggle to succeed on a test; projects might be problematic, still no one is importuning my truth.

Then why did I quarrel with my Mom about attending school?  Might it be because she “gets me where I live?”  When Mom or any mentor questions my reality, I feel ill at ease.  I am content knowing what I know, being as I am, and posturing in a manner that is “acceptable.”  I want no one to “rock my world” with a jolt and if they do, I will slam them and damn them.  I will work to eliminate their presence.

Does this story sound familiar?  Do the events parallel those that you experience?

Parents, patriarchs, matriarchs, and the majority of us are rarely trained in communication.  We speak and think this means we will be understood.  When we are not we want to explain; however, often we are feeling defensive.  Those that do not wish to absorb our words have their own reasons, resentments, and umbrage.  They take these out on us.  We challenge their truth and they, in turn, test our tolerance.  

What was meant to be informative, an opportunity to discuss becomes a vicious battle.  Many are left wounded.  They walk, they talk, and they lay dead among us.

I have been witness to recent rallies.  Now, I feel compelled to share my sad cries.  In my own sphere, I have attempted to speak to all of those participating in futile fights.  I wrote, in hopes of advancing peace.  For the most part, my words were ignored, avoided, or absorbed only by those ready to be released from what they once thought was reality.

Some learn lessons gracefully, willingly; there are those that want to.  Others would rather not accept a challenge.  Perhaps the adrenalin that anger supplies was the rush they preferred.  Possibly, the familiar is easier for these persons to accept.  I know not.  I only know that I am very sad for our shared loses.  

At some time may we walk together, down a path of peace.  May we open our heart to those that have hurt us deeply, and may those warriors of conventional wisdom evolve.  May those that know what they know discover a place where they feel safe and wish to consider more.

I offer no links, how unlike me.  I trust you dear reader, know how to find these.  Possibly, you participated in weaving a wicked tapestry.  If you need my assistance in locating resources, please ask, and you shall receive.

I hope you agree; this tale is a telling one.  It speaks to a ubiquitous theme.  People present their stories, their truth and it rattles us.  Their words might feel as attacks; their manner may be aggressive.  We engage; however we are enraged and it is evident.  Attacks on each side became personal.  Facts are used as fuel.  They wound us, as bullets do.  

Exchanges and experiences such as those mentioned in this missive are not unique to a situation.  They surround us.  Sadly, misunderstandings flourish everywhere. In every home, in personal relationships, in business, and even on the streets, people speak and their words are considered weapons.  We are societies of the walking wounded.

I use this narrative to share a story that is familiar to all of us; it is our life.  I hope that you will choose to reflect and become more conscious of what you, I, we create.  We can choose, chaos or calm.

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think

You Do Not Understand! Communities and Communication ©


This post was written for the family at My Left Wing.  I believe what occurs there is universal.  Thus, I think sharing it here is apt.  We all struggle to communicate well, to get along with our neighbors.  Kos, My DD, Booman, and the Village Blue too are diverse communities of people with similar focuses; yet, at times, our differences are more visible.  Therefore, I think people here might be as interested in inviting a dialogue as individuals are elsewhere.

This was intended to be a short statement, a response to a discussion.  I was writing a missive on the subject, similar in scope, though not in tone.  My intention was to offer a well thought out essay.  I was going to present political posturing as evidence for what we as humans do.  However, once the comment was complete I concluded the personal might be more effective.  
I wrote more than I thought I might and realized, as an observation tucked neatly within a thread few would read this.  I think this treatise addresses more than what takes place at My Left Wing.  It speaks to an archetype.  This essay looks at communities and communication within these.  My experience and sharing is likely applicable to world politics and to national interests.  This tome is about life, yours, mine, and ours.  It discusses what we do to destroy the connections we as living, breathing, and loving beings crave.

I invite you to share your stories, your thoughts, the lessons you learned.  Teach me; I am your student.

I wrote more than I thought I might and realized, as an observation tucked neatly within a thread few would read this.  I think this treatise addresses more than what takes place at My Left Wing.  It speaks to an archetype.  This essay looks at communities and communication within these.  My experience and sharing is likely applicable to world politics and to national interests.  This tome is about life, yours, mine, and ours.  It discusses what we do to destroy the connections we as living, breathing, and loving beings crave.

I invite you to share your stories, your thoughts, the lessons you learned.  Teach me; I am your student.

Originally, Dear gottlieb, my mentor, teacher, and inspiration . . .

I know I have said this to you before, still, it bears repeating.  I love you.

This salutation has now been extended to include all of you.
Dear humans, sponges that absorb, spatter, and then . . .  

Until this morning, I truly had no idea of the depth of what was going on.  I tend to live in la-la land.  I am naïve and proud of it.  More than a decade ago I realized my impression of the utopia that exists on Earth was incorrect.  I truly thought the only one hurt, or less-than-perfect was I.  

I have since discovered that we live in a world of walking wounded.  I still tend to gravitate to my belief that all are perfect and that I am the only one that is not; however, that is another story and a personal evolution.  My path is an important one, some say instructive, and I will share some of it in a future missive. Actually, that treatise is beginning now.

This thread and other occurances took me away from my writing.  That is good.  I experience we need to be open to what comes, for whether we want to believe this or not, we are all part of a community.  It is not a choice; it is life.  Look out your window; you have neighbors.  No matter how far removed you might physically be from them, they are there and they will be part of your life.  These other individuals are your teachers and your students.  We learn from each other.  That is the best.

When we accept the void of what is in our own mind we know very little.  People will never perceive life as we do; they cannot.  They are not we, me, or us.  Our experiences vary.  Our interpretations of these are unique.  The way in which we internalize is individual.  What another says of our opinions is not to be taken personally; it is their observation and interpretation.  Their own history influences their reality as does ours; that is important to recognize.

If we are to learn, we must explore what we do not yet know.  We must reflect, without mirroring what we disdain.

After reading Sunday’s thread, I was very confused.  I asked of yesterday’s discussion, the Meta, what Meta? Myleftasscheek kindly gave me a referral to Saturday’s thread.  This morning I began reading the discourse.  I was told the Saturday massacre was settled; however, I knew from my reading on Sunday it was not.  

Myleftasscheek who I love deeply, in the Saturday discussion wrote a thought or two that took me to a place.  “I try not to be outright nasty to ANYONE unless they have thoroughly pissed me off.  Take me as I am.”  Tony Seybert and I had been discussing similar thoughts the day before.  Tony and I wrote of anger and peace.

It is so sad to me.  People, as part of the animal kingdom are like all animals, gregarious.  They crave community and yet they do everything to destroy it.  Years ago, I was in the weirdest relationship; it was so strange I did not know I was in one.  Might the word “strained” be a better assessment of this connection.  His words and actions hurt me deeply!  I reacted.  With each of my rejoinders, he would retort in kind, in opposition.  We each continually inflicted pain on the other, mostly through our words or the lack of these.

This man was not from a world I have never known; nor had I imagined such a station.  He was the black to my white; he saw unhappiness where I saw joy.  Yes, he is a Republican and I am proudly, left of left.  [Interestingly, when we discussed politics, it was fun; neither of us took those talks personally.]  Within days of meeting this man, I realized he was my mirror [opposite].

Our perception of the world could not be more different; yet, we were the same, reversed.  We expressed our insecurities in very different manners.  He presented ego strength, or the appearance of it.  At that time, I did not know I was strong; I only knew that I trusted my beliefs and feelings and shared these openly.

Ultimately, loving this man so much and wanting to understand what I had never experienced, I read.  I learned a greater empathy.  I grew to understand that we all are very fragile souls and we must honor this.  No one can anger me; it is my perception of where they are and what they are doing that causes me pain.  

I need to ask them of their intent.  I need to work to understand who they are and where they are.  Where they were and how that has affected them is important.  What are they hearing, feeling, thinking?  Without that information, I know nothing other than the void of my own mind.

If I speak of what I know, my feelings, thoughts, and observations, and share these with love, and a sincere desire to understand all is different.  After much learning, I acknowledged that I must not be intent on attacking and rarely did another person mean to hurt me.  If I feel upset because of what they say or do, that is within me.

They cannot “take me as I am,” for as close as we may be, they do not know me, my core!  No one does truly, not even me.  I know not of others, I only comprehend that I am extremely introspective.  In every moment, I learn more about me.

That is what learning is.  You suddenly understand something you’ve understood all your life, but in a new way. – Doris Lessing [Persian (Iranian)-born British writer.  Concerned with people caught in the social and political upheavals of the 20th century.]

My parents after three decades of marriage experience the same.  They are still learning of the other.  My cousins have been together for sixty years; they too are continually discovering what they never imaged of the other.

With this man, as I changed, all else changed.  At one point, he, a man known for his aloofness, said to me, “I am really fucked up.”  We all are in our own ways.  When we witness others, we are looking within ourselves.  Do we like what we see?  

We are here together.  We will get what we give.  When someone seems to be intentionally hurting us, I think we must recognize, that is our feeling, our perception, and our reality.  Thank you G-man.

I have learned that those in pain pour it out onto others.  For me, this is so sad.  I have done this a zillion times.  When I was in pain, I would pour it out.  That brought me greater angst.  It alienated me from those I love.

Now, I work to recognize that those that habitually cause heartache are doing as is familiar to them.  Anguish is the life they know.  They are doing what was done to them.  They do not understand how to do otherwise.  Please recognize you, whoever you are, are their teacher.  If you want them to learn of love, you must share with them lovingly.

I could go on, though I have said too much, probably without saying anything at all.  Please tell me of you.  Where might my thoughts have taken you?  What are you thinking, feeling, what would you wish to say or do?  We are a part of a community.  I ask that we communicate as such.

Instruction begins when you, the teacher, learn from the learner; put yourself in his place so that you may understand . . . what he learns and the way he understands it.   – Soren Kierkegaard [1813 – 1855, Danish Writer during the “golden age.”]

Please puruse . . .

Betsy L. Angert Be-Think