Hello on a day of introspection,
It is Veterans’ Day (and I’ve included the apostrophe intentionally) and it is the day after the founding of the Marine Corps. It is a week when my focus is in multiple places, my heart is both grateful and hurting, and it’s a time when I am reminded of times gone by. The weather has changed and the nights are getting colder, the air conditioning unit has been removed from my room, and there are more leaves on the ground than on the trees. This past weekend I traveled again with the Debate and Forensics team to West Virginia, which is always a learning experience, there was a Wild Game and Wine Pairing dinner to present for, and the coming few days have multiple events and invitations. Life continues, and yet there are those moments when we are unexpectedly reminded how much we take for granted. Back in Iowa, my extended family is facing unimaginably painful decisions and realities. The parallels between this week and almost a half century ago are not lost on me or those who lived through that previous family-changing time. For me, theologically speaking as well as merely in my fragile humanness, I call out believing in and acknowledging my struggle with maintaining a faith and hope that somehow there is a loving and compassionate Creator. Yet, without that hope, without that faith, on what or whom might I cling in such a circumstance?
As I noted, this past weekend I participated by judging in a CFA Tournament. Most students who participate in Debate and Forensics are smart and capable people. They are generally better critical thinkers and they are often more aware of the world in which they live. However, a three- to four-hour van ride offers some profound and interesting insight into their daily lives, thought processes, as well as their conversations. This is the second time during the semester I’ve been around them. Let me just offer this, when a former Marine, a person, who’s been around a bit more than the average person, is stunned by the conversations, by the music, and by some of the language used in public setting, it causes me pause. From ideas of basic decorum and audience awareness to what things are expressed in a public forum, from the lyrics of music (and I remember getting reprimanded for things from George Carlin and Cheech and Chong to Jethro Tull’s “Locomotive Breath” to my singing of Billy Joe Royal’s “Cherry Hill Park”) and the seemingly tone-deaf conversations about any kind of sexual encounter, I am compelled to wonder how this laissez-faire acceptance of permissive, dismissive idea of anything, anytime, and everywhere evolved or occurred? In discussing this with a former colleague, they offered two reasons: first, and this one I had already considered, there is a fundamental change in what is perceived permissible societally, but in their second point, they offered what they believed to be an even more sophisticated issue. There are two kinds of actions. There is the individualistic impetus for what someone does and there is a deliberative impetus for someone’s response in any given situation.
As implied in my former colleague’s statements are a number of concerns and realities. There is undoubtedly a difference in what society tolerates, accepts, as reasonable behavior. There is little doubt. When I listen to casual, run-of-the-mill conversation, the numbers of bars of soap that would be chomped on are cases upon cases. Again, I am not incapable of such language as those who know me are aware, but Holy Buckets. When a group of insightful individuals I am blessed to be part of actually discussed graciousness this week, which I prompted because I was writing this, it seems two culprits were pointed out. Technology was a pretty consistent mention, and second was our current country’s atmosphere. I believe there is validity in both areas. When one can communicate individually (or collectively for that matter), without being in front of someone, it diminishes accountability for what is written. Too often the idea of typing into a text bubble removes the humanity of the recipient. The lack of seeing the consequences of the words seems to make them more benign. But words have incredible power. And I think that is where the first culprit connects to the second: the current atmosphere of our country. When our elected officials from the municipal level to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue write things that lack decorum or a sense of decency, we all lose. When a Senator refers to a life-long public servant as a dirt bag, regardless of political leanings, we all lose. When the most powerful person on earth writes something at O-Dark-Thirty, which seems possibly unhinged, or calls other countries shit holes, all of that has profound consequences because of the office to which he was elected.
Often I have spoken of my grandmother, but one of the most memorable things about her was her graciousness. She abhorred disrespect in any manner, and while she was profoundly human and struggled mightily with some things, she never pointed fingers in blame nor would she belittle another person. She had such a manner that even when she was tired or at a moment of seemingly doing something in solitude, never can I think of a time she lacked elegance and poise. I do not remember her raising her voice nor her using profanity. Perhaps I would do well to replicate her words when I am dismayed or perturbed. She would exclaim, “I am so angry I could just spit!” Then you knew you’d done something unadvisable. A phrase more unacceptable than most anything was to tell someone to “shut up!” You’d think you dropped the proverbial f-bomb. I knew to never say that. Even to this day, I do not use that phrase. What I’ve felt recently, particularly in the last year, both in spirit and practice, is that graciousness is not only preferable, it is healthy. If minimizes your propensity to create or engage in drama. It allows you to step back and breathe allowing your brain to engage before your emotions get you in trouble. Allowing for those infamous better angels to act for us before our fallen humanity dooms us allows for the possibility of something positive in the most dire of circumstances. We are taught graciousness at an early age. Those lessons are called manners. Those actions are done with a foundation of respect. While I do not remember all the specifics, there was a trending book titled, All I Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Published in 1986, by the minister Robert Fulgham, it offers a simple recipe for being gracious. Perhaps we need to return to kindergarten as a country, as a world again.
Thank you as always for reading. Off for a nap with my blankey.
Michael
