Feast of St. John Bosco (1815-1888)

St. John Bosco had many dreams and one of them was a dream that he was being called to work with poor young boys to give them an education. In the dream, God appears to him and tells him that he cannot approach these boys as a harsh disciplinarian, but with humility, strength, and wisdom. He did not understand what these words meant but eventually, came to accept that he would have to be an example instead of a martinet. The passing of time allowed him to see these dreams as truth. Had it not been for the demands of a certain Pope that he record his dreams, St. John Bosco would have avoided considering them as signs from God. We remember the Salesians on this day for their fine contribution and we recall all the disadvantaged young men that Salesians have dutifully served. It is also a call to those of us who teach to be mindful of our own approach, that we must guide, direct, and teach, and sometimes that does mean discipline but not without the eyes of faith. In an over-permissive age, I wonder how many people read about St. John Bosco and assume that his message is about being nice and all-forgiving. How easy it is to fall into the trap of seeking the esteem of our students instead of giving them what they need.

Allen Ginsberg's words haunt me: "The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely" from A Supermarket in California (1955). I have spoken with numerous people who suffer from loneliness. Some know it, others are fearful of admitting it. In the end, loneliness knows no difference among people. It visits us all. But what is more disconcerting is how people avoid facing it and to what lengths people will invent narratives to keep themselves from the pain which is inevitable. A woman lies to her family about her fiance's drug addiction hoping that he will improve before their wedding day. A man pretends he has friendships only to drink himself to sleep each night with tumblers of whiskey. If people are lonely, as Ginsberg so knowingly recognizes, they are in places where nobody can see them, they hide in dark houses and what are they doing? Counting the hours. Chatting and no one is there...

What is the sign of a proud man? He never praises anyone-The Zohar, 13th century

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I am increasingly concerned about a society that produces individuals who genuinely believe that if people direct flattery towards them, then they are automatically friends. People are too quick to judge someone "nice" without asking the more difficult question: What proof do I have that this is so? It costs people nothing to compliment one on another person's sartorial choices or one's way of speaking. But, at times, it does cost one even greater to listen and be seduced, particularly by cunning persons who do not have the good of others in mind. Opportunists, social-climbers, and libertines all have one thing in common: their own pleasure. If they can achieve such pleasure at the expense of others then it matters little what they are willing to say in order to get what they want. Lord Chesterfield warns his son (and readers) that one should pay acquaintances with compliments but not confidences. He was insightful enough to advise that we should not share our personal lives with people whom we do not know well. But culture would have us believe today that we should "be honest" which is a silly and repugnant euphemism for being an exhibitionist. We keep things to ourselves because what we value deserves to be shared only in the proper context and it is time that allows us freedom to choose accordingly. I am often taken aback how frequently people really believe that they can rush into relationships because they have met someone with whom they "click", as students have told me. I have also warned them that such a naive approach usually leads to serious disappointment and often, a betrayal of sorts sharp enough to leave people dizzy and unwilling to risk genuine relationships. Can we blame others if we have been too trusting? Should we stop loving because the risk of sustaining injury means risking again and again?

From the Introduction to the Oxford Book of Aphorisms: "Yet in practice many aphorisms are retorts and ripostes, shafts aimed at the champions of an established viewpoint or a shallower morality. They tease and prod the lazy assumptions lodged in the reader's mind; they warn us how insidiously our vices can pass themselves off as virtues..." -John Gross

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Among some of the better aphorisms I have read of late:

"If man had created man he would be ashamed of his performance,"- Mark Twain, Notebooks, later 19th century

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Twain's commentary about the limits of human beings is true. Given what we could produce today, we would never produce anything as miraculous as what God has already conceived of. For we would not bother to produce humans as deeply feeling, highly intelligent, or magnificently compassionate. We would instead focus on producing a creature efficient to its core, creative to a limit, and ultimately, directed at fulfilling our own personal desires. We would produce this kind of creature regardless of what mass destruction it might cause in the wake of doing so. Shelley's Frankenstein still offers a fine warning to humankind about the dangers of seeking unmerited glory. Some powers belong exclusively to God and for good reason.

The malapropism can be a genuine source of amusement for students. Today, we explored sentences like: I feel like I am fading into Bolivian. Or, when he came out fighting, his arms came up like large testicles. Screams of laughter. I think folks like the Bolivian one more...

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As we move through the vocabulary builder, students face new, more nuanced words like: inimical, probity, and leavening. When I asked in what context one might use the word: leavening, a student raised her hand and replied: "Baking". I thanked her for her contribution and sought out a different response. What struck me was how quickly they were willing to absorb the word's definition without exploring context and meaning. One can read a definition but it does not mean that one knows HOW to use the word itself. So there was a bit of work to do as we considered how one might use words in a particular context instead of merely shoving them in, pell-mell, into an unsuspecting sentence or an easily victimized paragraph.

Not long ago, several students approached me and asked to read more classics. I was surprised. Ordinarily, students do not necessarily clamor to read more difficult writing but there seems to be a sea change happening. Perhaps popular culture, media, and newspapers have hinted that a lack of knowledge concerning certain ideas might make reading the world around oneself that much more difficult. The turns of phrase, the witty comments, and the double entendres that some people enjoy leave others out in the cultural cold. In the 1971 film, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the Oompa Loompas sing merrily about the dangers of too much television leaving one with an IQ of 3. As humorous as the warning was, for it served the purpose of stating a moral after the demise of yet another rotten kid, it has serious implications for how students understand novels, short stories, and poems today. Too often, I encounter students who desire strongly, that proverbial happy ending which literature does not always promise. These books might offer resolution but there are no guarantees that one's view of the world will receive affirmation much less offer any comfort against the realities of death, disappointment, or collapsed relations. Why do some people insist on the happy ending? So many possibilities.

Back to School

In another day, it will be time to begin a new semester. I can see lines of students at the bookstore, having to hand over their backpacks and purses as student officials store them in cubby holes to deter shoplifting. There will be the usual grind again, books read and some unread, papers written quickly and a genuine attempt to make sense of the questions their instructors may ask of them. It is odd to feel that once I sat on one side of the desk and for many years, endured the difficult task of filling my head with information. Now, it is my turn to do a bit of the work, the organizing, and the leading. I realize what a responsibility it is and how important it is to take it seriously.

A good place to have breakfast in San Francisco. This quaint diner overlooks the ocean.

The view (above) is what I could see as I ate eggs and toast. Click on photo to see a detailed photo of the view.

Sometimes, a sense of humor makes life bearable.

School is fast approaching once again. The spring term brings with it new courses and a bright consideration of possibility. I watched an adaptation of Agee's A Death in the Family which was a powerful film. Its focus, the death of a highly respected man, leaves his remaining family bereft at what appears to have been an accident. His wife, a bright and competent woman, must face raising two children on her own. What struck me about this production was the elevated dignity people maintained as they received the news and dealt with the news and faced death squarely. Nobody became self-indulgent, nobody devolved into hysterics. Instead, the film offered me a different way of being in times of difficulty. I do not mean to suggest that people did not suffer nor did people avoid shedding a tear. Dignity is not about oppressive restraint but a recognition that something like death, which can come upon people unexpectedly, is not something for which one can prepare. But people can exercise a self-awareness that leaves the remaining family able to continue long after one's beloved has gone. Strength is a virtue because it reassures those who are uncertain that authentic pain can exist without making it an exhibition. This sentiment might be lost to a culture which prefers raw emotion but Agee's story refuses to give in to this notion. Instead, the people behind the film wanted us to consider a time in which men could still look one another in the eye and women could act out of courage born out of a deep faith.

In October 2003, an author decides to commit suicide. Carolyn Heilbrun, author of several books of feminist literary criticism also wrote under a pseudonym, Amanda Cross, for which she penned the Kate Fansler mysteries.

I have always been an admirer of Heilbrun's work. I enjoyed her book of essays, Last Gift of Time: Life Beyond Sixty, which I found moving and insightful, not to mention beautiful in its elegant prose style. Her essay on the purchase of a house of her own reminds me how one can romanticize solitude and yet find comfort and peace after that initial period of loneliness passes.

Heilbrun defended her right to commit suicide as an extention of her feminist beliefs that a woman had a right to choose how she ended her life. In Katha Pollitt's essay in the NY Times, "The Lives They Lived: Choosing Death", she uses phrases like 'rational suicide' and 'untreated depression' and her reflections are a serious attempt to make some sense of why someone as accomplished at Heilbrun would commit such an act that ultimately leaves her loved ones unfairly bereft.

Pollitt notes that Heilbrun pared down her life towards the end: "no more dinner parties, no movies, no theatre, no shopping..." but she concludes with this sentiment: "maybe, it's good to have to go the grocery store..." Yes, Ms. Pollitt, it is. Going to the grocery store, that mundane task among many, can be the saving act that keeps us from committing an act of desperation. Like any common task, it has the capacity to yank us back into daily life, forcing us to place priorities and to imagine other possibilities. When one is left in solitude for too long, when one receives little discussion for the ideas which one considers, then it is possible that one might contemplate a desperate act without thinking about the consequences. Suicide in certain religious traditions is considered a serious mortal sin. With good reason. The belief is that one's life is a gift from God and that one should treasure one's life as gift. Committing suicide is tantamount to wasting God's gift and ignoring the possibilities of what one can do with one's life. It is the sin of pride with capital letters. When we see our lives as a mere marker for our own individuality, then we can also place undue importance on our right to choose what we "do" with it.

Life is about remaining in the struggle even when one encounters difficulty and suffering. One might consider suicide as taking the easy way out.

It is January 2007 and we are at the beginning of what I hope will be, a good year. What is it about the new year that induces people to make changes? Resolutions, as one would call them. As one man recently suggested in our community's liturgy, a resolution has something to do with placing oneself back into a form. The form allows us to reshape what has gone shapeless and as a result, we return to a discipline, we place our bodies back into a kind of regimen and we hope for improvement. It is a hopeful thing to attempt a resolution because it means the willingness to change.