Hello from the Capitol of Canada,
In spite of many travels, and a couple of previous journeys to what I have referred to as “East Detroit,” more accurately called Windsor, I have never really been to Canada. However, on a cold winter night, that seems somewhat reminiscent of a Wisconsin or Minnesota January, I am in Ottawa to help judge the CFA tournament being held over the next two days. My suitcase had little time to collect any dust, even though it was a wee bit chilly when I reclaimed it from the attic steps last evening. We are staying at a Fairmont Hotel, which is stunningly beautiful. We had three different universities represented on the bus, and one student had also just returned from the Poland winter trip, so talking a bit about our Central/Eastern European experience was enjoyable. It is interesting to listen to a student perspective on an event, especially something that lasted almost a month and covered almost 15,000 miles.
The bus trip today was pretty basic today, though we had two drivers. This necessity was because one of the drivers did not possess a passport, so entry into Canada was not an option. I know from past experience, both sides of the border have gotten more intense about their border security and I am quite sure the Americans would probably be the tougher of the two sides. Nevertheless, we arrived at our accommodations for the tournament and I was pretty stunned by the beautiful castle that appeared in front of us. The Fairmont Chateau Laurier was unlike anyplace I have ever stayed anywhere in all my travels. The picture above is one I took walking back from Friday night’s dinner. While in Ottawa we had the opportunity to visit and tour the Parliament Complex. It was beyond words in terms of beauty and the majestic aura that enveloped is as we walked the vaulted halls to the Senate Chamber or the Library of Parliament. The reverence that was shown by the people touring was also impressive. One think I could not help but notice, whether it was during our trip in Canada or throughout Central/Eastern Europe, how people stood on corners an obeyed the walk/do not walk signals. Seldom, more likely almost never did someone walk without the appropriate signal. Certainly in Bloomsburg and most anywhere I go in this country, people do what they want with little regard to what is proper or with minimal respect for what is deemed reasonable. I see it in terms of which side of the steps people walk on, which door they will exit. And heaven forbid you look at them questioningly. They will look at you like how dare you judge their actions. A couple of years ago I was walking on a campus sidewalk and a group was coming toward me. They were spread across the entire walk and all on their phones.i moved as far to the right as possible, but it was soon evident that I was going to get run into. So I stopped and stood motionless. When the young man realized he about to run into someone, he looked led up from his phone and stared at me. I merely stared back. He walked around, but muttered that I should get the fuck out of the way. My response to that was not vulgar, but I let him know that his lack of respect was neither reasonable or would it be tolerated. I asked his name and told him that I had no problem turning him into the Dean of Students. The group looked at me like I was the unreasonable or disrespectful one. One thing that continually boggles me is the growing lack of decorum that continues to become the norm rather than the exception in our society.
We are taught please and thank you from very early and I believe there are certainly few parents that would be prone to encourage disrespect in their sons or daughters. I have written before about how my grandmother impressed upon me around the age of 8 that I should always strive to be a gentleman. At eight, I thought that meant I should always remember to say please and thank you. I would learn that it would mean so much more, and there are times I failed to keep the promise of an 8 year old, but the older I have gotten, the more I realize the profound importance of that admonishment. I strive hard to be that person. As I have noted again, there are persons to whom I own an extreme and serious apology. For me it took a lot of soul searching and work to realize that I was worth more than I was told. It took a great deal of hard work – and at times I still fail – to realize I do not need to build myself up by taking advantage of others to be okay. I did not need to drink to the point of drowning my fears or hurts to be able to make it past that next crisis I could create. When I look k back, again as noted in earlier blogs, I spent probably two decades walking a fine line between managing quite well and a next time I drank way too much ending up either dead or in treatment. In a regrettable situation or maybe in jail. I am not sure I have ever stated it quite as starkly I am here, but I think perhaps it is time to do so.
I watch students and I want to warn them, but I know all too often they need to figure it out for themselves. I see stupidity, but I was that person, and long after I was 21. Sometimes it takes something tragic or life-changing. I had both instances and I still did not figure it out. I think for if it took age, some significant luck, and God’s grace. I am quite sure that there are people from my past that would be, or perhaps are, flabbergasted I have gotten to this point. I always tease I a slow-learner, but there is more that a small bit of that is true. Slow or stubborn or both. I think one of my most difficult things is admitting I am wrong, or that I have made the same mistake again. The place I am most likely to make a mistake is in trusting people. During the summer I listened again to someone who felt they wanted to reach out an share their story. Perhaps it is my narrative ethics background and my own propensity for story telling. Perhaps it is because I have this innate desire to help, particularly when it makes sense because of my own background. Again, I believed the best intentions of the other. Then they needed help, I was willing to help. When they needed an ear, I was willing to listen. As is generally the case, I will go above and beyond, but somehow I am still surprised when the same thing happens. I should begin to realize that I must be more guarded, but then I am afraid I would lose myself. Still, more often than not, people are genuinely grateful. In the case at hand, common sense, which I do not always pay attention to and that is the bane I must manage, would tell me even though they are complaining about their situation, it is their situation and it is who they are. You cannot change it or them. I do not believe I am trying to change them, but rather help them to manage whatever that issue is. Again, a learning event.
However, I did digress from the travel. Canada was amazing and the city of Ottawa was beautiful. The one thing that did catch me a bit off guard was number of homeless people I encountered on the streets. The caring part of me is always wondering what happened for a person to be in this situation. Was it their own bad choices? Was it things beyond their control? When you meet them on the street, the difference in what created their problem is not apparent. They are sitting on a cold sidewalk with a cap, a cup, and an outstretched hand. I think of a former colleague who ended up in such different place than when I first met him and how difficult it was to see and manage all the emotions and other things that created so much of our response to him. What causes the spiral? I know this in my own family. I see it in other families. Back to my initial thoughts and notes about traveling. A person told me some time ago, the best money you can spend is on travel. I could not agree with them more. Travel changes you. Travel allows you to reconsider who you are; it allows you to reimagine the world in which you live; it provides you an opportunity to learn so much more about others and yourself. Each time I go somewhere I am compelled to look more broadly, more deeply. I know that each time I am confronted with a new circumstance, a new culture or language I find myself pondering where I fit in all of this. There is so much to learn and the more we soak it all up, the more open, willing, and able we are to imagine life beyond our own little confines. I think that is what life is about. Seeing beyond. It is why I take the chance to listen to and interact with students. There are times it seems the effort is inconsequential. There are times it seems the effort is merely taken without any regard for what is given, but ultimately, it is about helping others see more than they are able to see in themselves. I believe that is a fundamental part of being a professor. It is not what I do, but who I am. It is what I profess; it is what I live it is how my life will go on long after I am gone. With that in mind, I offer the following song, part of the new Homecoming album from Celtic Woman.
Thanks as always for reading.
Dr. Martin
thewritingprofessor55 