Jump to content

Guest Writers

Contributor
 View Profile  See their activity

  • Content Count

    41

  • Joined

  • Last visited

    Never

  • Days Won

    5

Blog Entries posted by Guest Writers

  1. Guest Writers
    by Annie Holmquist
    Gallup just released its World Happiness Report and found – for the second year in a row – that the U.S. did not make the list of the top 20 happiest nations.
    Not many of us will be surprised by that result. In fact, we may even raise our hands and admit, “Yes, that’s me, I’m part of the unhappiness problem in America.”
    Discontentment and unhappiness hit even the most cheerful of us occasionally. We look at our jobs, our marriages, our houses, our social lives, our material possessions, and frankly, they aren’t what we hoped for or expected. Life gets monotonous, we begin looking at the greener grass on the other side of the fence, convincing ourselves that if we just move on and find something else, we’ll be satisfied.
    How do we fight this discontentment, this unhappiness that seems to plague every one of us at some time or another? One unexpected answer that recently came across my path is craftsmanship.
    Craftsmanship is something that I often think of in the realm of carpenters or others who create beautiful, high-quality products – something that we rarely see anymore. But in simplest terms, craftsmanship is defined as production – the quality of the labor that we put forth. In that sense, every one of us has the ability to be a craftsman, whether we’re in a high-end job or a menial one. Whether or not we are craftsmen in our jobs, however, depends on the effort and skill we put into our daily tasks.
    Author Bernard Iddings Bell recognized this in his mid-20th century work, “Crisis in Education: A Challenge to American Complacency.”
    “Man exists to do creatively, in the most craftsmanlike manner possible, all things that must be done,” Bell wrote, “great things like government, or mothering, or the healing of minds and bodies; small things like making beds, or hoeing corn, or driving a truck; things in the public eye like making speeches, or unleashing atomic energy, or making peace; obscure things like selling groceries, or running a bus, or teaching school.”
    In other words, even the lowliest jobs and tasks – the ones we feel are unimportant or unnoticeable – are ones at which we can each be a craftsman, excelling in our execution of them. And when we approach each task like a craftsman, that happiness – so lost and unattainable today – bubbles up within, Bell says.
    "He finds inner peace who works at whatever is in front of him, not for the pay he gets or for what he can buy with that pay, not for applause or gratitude, but for sheer joy in creativity. There are a vast number of tasks to be performed in this world, most of them not romantic. They may be done in one of two ways: just to get them over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible, in which case they become a monotonous burden hard to bear; or each as beautifully and thoroughly as possible, in which case life is good to the taste."
    And therein lies at least one secret to happiness. Inevitably, each of us will come to some point in time where the tasks in front of us are not what we envisioned ourselves doing, nor are they what we really want to do. We become, as Bell says, “restless, unreliable, combative, caught in a web of doubt and dismay.”
    When that happens, we have the choice to give into that dismay and despair, joining the ranks of the unhappy Americans, or we have the chance to be faithful, craftsmen determined to do our jobs – no matter how menial – to the best of our abilities.
    And we must do this not only for ourselves, but for our children as well, as an example of how to approach life when it doesn’t work out like we want. “There will be no recovery of serenity, no mutual patience sufficient for fraternity,” Bell explains, “until we learn ourselves and teach our boys and girls that unless human beings become creative artists [those craftsmen, doing their work wholeheartedly] they remain petulant children, dangerous, predatory.”
    The wisest man whoever lived once wrote: “Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings; he shall not stand before mean [average] men.”
    Faithful craftsmanship has its eventual reward – and that is something which can bring joy to the heart of every American.
    Annie Holmquist served as the editor of Intellectual Takeout from 2018 to 2022. When not writing or editing, she enjoys reading, gardening, and time with family and friends.
    This article originally appeared on IntellectualTakeout.org and is is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
  2. Guest Writers
    by Michael Weiser
    Anyone who has lived in this decade can tell you that the United States of America has had some hard days. During another bitter election season, there were many dispiriting moments. Civil dialogue about the many issues we face was all but absent.
    Especially troubling was a November 4th Wall Street Journal report that civics teachers not only steered clear of the election but also avoided discussing any current political issue in their classrooms.
    Political campaigns and issues of national importance, however, are crucial opportunities for teachers to engage students in the democratic process. Teachers should invite them to learn the essential practices of civil discourse, such as understanding all sides of an issue and showing an openness to new ideas and ways of thinking. They can help students look to our history and core documents for insight. All of this serves as a path for students to become thoughtful citizens.
    Yes, some teachers have taken it upon themselves to impart their personal politics. But many more teachers understand their critical role and simply lack the confidence to lead their students in political discussions. Civics teachers are generally provided with limited educational resources and content-based training while dealing with a highly volatile political climate and a culture that disregards what we as Americans hold in common.
    We need to work together to find solutions to this crisis of knowledge and this crisis of confidence. We need to support civics teachers in every way we can so they can, in turn, help students become young citizens and take responsibility for self-government.
    For 20 years, the Jack Miller Center has been working to fill this gap by supporting scholars devoted to teaching America’s founding principles and history. Our programs also aim to empower K-12 civics and history teachers with a deep understanding of core primary source texts, great debates, and key moments in our history. We work with the top professors in our network of 1,200 university scholars to provide rigorous professional development programs and innovative classroom application models that give teachers the knowledge and confidence they need.
    Across the country, we have found partners in the private and public sectors who are on all sides of the political spectrum yet share our reverence for the American political tradition. We have witnessed, for example, a rising desire to incorporate civics into college and university curricula, expressed through the development of new civics and liberal arts-focused programs at Stanford, Purdue, and Johns Hopkins, to name a few. 
    Additionally, after decades of underfunding, a number of state legislatures are now stepping up to provide support for interdisciplinary departments at public universities. These institutions are being staffed by leading political scientists, historians, economists, and humanities scholars like Professor Jed Adkins, who heads the School of Life and Leadership at the University of North Carolina.
    Another benefit of this civics renaissance is providing advanced civics education for teachers. Arizona State University and Utah Valley University have introduced innovative graduate programs for civics, history, and other social studies teachers to advance their knowledge of the subjects they teach. 
    UVU’s Center for Constitutional Studies is a particularly excellent example of the nonpartisan and academically rigorous kind of civics that’s flowering in higher education. Its Constitutional Literacy Institute has offered teachers thousands of hours of professional development. UVU is partnering with the university’s School of Education on a Master of Arts in Constitutional Government, Civics, and Law that will serve as an important credential. Utah Valley University and other similar institutes across the country can empower genuine civic revival by connecting top scholars with K-12 teachers.
    The beating heart of American civics education will always be at the K-12 level. We need to redouble our efforts to teach students about all of America’s history, the good and the bad. Civics education is not about indoctrinating children into one ideology or another but is instead an invitation to learn more about America’s story – and for students to see themselves in it.
    It was Frederick Douglass who called the Constitution a “glorious liberty document.” In that same speech, he went on to say that “every citizen has a personal interest in understanding thoroughly” the meaning of that charter. As a man born in slavery who had to fight even to learn to read, Douglass understood full well the importance of education in a republic. Civic ignorance leads to division, decline, and ultimately oppression. Republics only thrive when the whole citizenry understands the principles on which they are founded.
    The occasion of America’s 250th birthday presents an opportunity for this civic education renewal. During the Bicentennial in 1976, Americans of all stripes were hungry for history – biographies became bestsellers, and reenactors honored the memory of our Revolution. We believe the same spirit can take hold in 2026. Let’s make the most of it.
    This article was originally published by RealClearEducation and made available via RealClearWire.
  3. Guest Writers
    by Jeff Minick
    Actress, mother of two, and school activist Sophie Winkleman began her recent address on children at the 2025 Alliance for Responsible Citizenship Conference in London by describing a recent scene from a packed London bus. Standing over a young man and a young woman, both intent on their smartphones, Winkleman noticed that each was on a dating site, “reading profiles of men and women who presented as extremely similar to the two of them.”
    She concluded:
    "Our bus reached Piccadilly Circus and both happened to alight at this stop. I watched the two of them as they walked away from each other, one towards Shaftesbury Avenue and the other towards St. James’s. I don’t need to labour the point of what I witnessed with this couple never to be. They were side by side, both seeking companionship or love, but they didn’t even register each other’s existence."
    In the brilliant and passionate address that followed – I don’t use those adjectives lightly – Winkleman turned to the effects of smartphones and classroom technology on adolescents, which she called “the digital destruction of childhood.” She continued:
    "We left the doors to our children’s classrooms, their bedrooms and their minds wide open to the world. Perhaps we thought we were giving children the right to access everything which might be good out there, but instead we’ve given everyone else – the good and the bad, access to our children."
    Winkleman spends part of her talk examining data familiar to many parents: the horrifying rise in teen suicides and self-harm incidents, the massive increase of anxiety and depression among the young, the fact that 97% of Britain’s 12-year-olds now possess a smartphone, and that children ages eight to 18 now spend an average of over seven hours every day on one screen or another. She further notes, “Hospital admissions for children with eating disorders in the UK have risen sixfold in a decade, the ‘contagious influence’ of social media cited as a major factor.” 
    Winkleman also cites mountains of evidence demonstrating that digital classrooms offer inferior education to those centered on teachers, books, paper, and pencils. “The Karolinska Institute in Sweden,” she told the audience, “recently published research concluding that, ‘there’s clear scientific evidence that tools impair rather than enhance learning.’ Sweden has taken note and been the first country to kick tech out of the classroom, reinvesting in books, paper and pens. They had the courage to admit that EdTech was a ‘failed experiment’.”
    So why, given this abundance of data and the visible harm screens bring to so many of the young – and to many adults as well – do parents and schools continue to pair the young with screens and smartphones?
    For parents, the social pressures felt by their children are a factor. “My friends all have iPhones, why can’t I?” Many parents also fail to understand that screens are addictive, electronic drugs in a plastic case designed to stimulate dopamine in the brain. As for classroom use, screens can reduce the duties of teachers while often better capturing the attention of students.
    Winkleman reminds her audience that childhood itself is at stake here. The playing fields of the imagination – books, backyard games, the engagement with others in face-to-face encounters, and so much more – are being rapidly replaced by digitalized games, social media, and the artifice of screens.
    Regarding education, she offers wise observations such as this one:
    "Reading books and handwriting work is a deeper, not to mention a calmer, way to learn. Screens manage to be both caffeinating and numbing – where books are decompressing and absorbing."
    Reading and handwriting are also harder in a good way. Friction and struggle are a necessary part of the learning process. Make everything too easy and it’s like feeding ten-year-olds puree when they need to chew.
    Jonathan Haidt is the author of the extraordinary bestseller, “The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness.” Haidt praises Winkleman’s address as “the best talk I’ve ever seen on what computers and tablets on the desktops of children do to the child’s education.” His article includes the full video of the talk and a transcript.
    At the end of her talk, Winkleman says:
    f we want to produce a generation of responsible citizens, we must flip the current argument on its head.
    "Rather than constantly having to prove that screen use is blighting childhood, we should ask simply: where is the evidence to prove that it’s safe?"
    I would up that question a notch and ask, “Where is the evidence to prove that it’s beneficial?”
     
    Jeff Minick lives in Front Royal, Virginia, and may be found online at jeffminick.com. He is the author of two novels, Amanda Bell and Dust on Their Wings, and two works of non-fiction, Learning as I Go and Movies Make the Man.
    This article appeared on IntellectualTakeout.org and is shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
  4. Guest Writers
    by Mollie Engelhart 
    As a vegan chef turned regenerative cattle rancher, I’ve traversed the narrow divides between two worlds: the health-conscious, progressive enclaves of Los Angeles and the rugged, often misunderstood landscapes of rural Texas. For years, I lived and breathed the principles of organic farming and plant-based eating, firmly rooted in the belief that our food systems should be safe, resilient, and free from harmful chemicals. My community was predominantly left-leaning, passionate about clean water, food safety, and the dangers of over-medication. It felt like common sense.
    Yet, a seismic shift occurred during the COVID-19 pandemic. Suddenly, the very people who once railed against chemicals in our food were now clamoring for more. They went from advocating for natural and holistic approaches to a new cult-like devotion to any and every product produced by big pharma, big ag and big food - seemingly forgetting the principles they once held dear. It left me bewildered and questioning the values of a movement I had long identified with.
    I am a lifelong liberal. I married someone who is undocumented, and I’ve spent years passionately advocating for organic farming and holistic health. But as the pandemic unfolded, I began to realize that I had more in common with those I once considered my ideological opposites. In seeking a deeper understanding of the debate over the COVID-19 vaccines, I found myself listening to voices I had previously dismissed, including those of the right. It was a disorienting journey, yet it opened my eyes to a broader narrative.
    One voice that stood out was Tucker Carlson. Initially, I viewed him through the lens of my biases, assuming he was a racist and a bigot. But as I listened more closely, I realized that he, too, was a father concerned for his children’s health and future. He shared my values around environmentalism, clean water, and the importance of preserving our natural world. This was a turning point for me. I recognized that we were not enemies; we were parents trying to protect our families in a world fraught with uncertainty.
    This brings me to Robert F. Kennedy Jr. His candidacy for Secretary of Health and Human Services (HHS) resonates deeply with my journey. Many in my community dismiss him as a “whack job” with no medical background, but this kind of labeling is all too reminiscent of how I once viewed Carlson. RFK Jr. is not a threat; he is a champion for informed consent and transparency in our food and pharmaceutical systems.
    His vision for HHS aligns perfectly with the values I hold dear. He advocates for reducing chemicals in our food supply and ensuring that parents have the right to understand what goes into their children’s bodies. As a mother, I believe it is our right to know the ingredients in the vaccines our children receive, just as it is our right to demand food that nourishes rather than harms. We cannot ignore the fact that cheap, chemically laden food is a privilege that comes at a grave cost to farmworkers’ health. I was reminded of this every time I spoke to Cynthia, a house cleaner in California, who was part of a team that harvested strawberries—each of them diagnosed with cancer before age 40.
    The recent leftward shift towards accepting more chemicals in our food and water is disheartening. This is not merely a partisan issue; it’s a human issue. It’s about our children’s future and the environment we leave behind. We should be prioritizing clean air and water, not pushing for more fluoride or pesticides. True environmentalism is about ensuring that our food is safe, our air is breathable, and our water is drinkable. This has long been a cornerstone of progressive ideology, and it feels like we’ve lost our way.
    It pains me to see my friends on the left resist RFK Jr.’s candidacy. He is an accomplished environmental advocate with a proven track record of holding powerful corporations accountable for their actions. He cleaned up the Hudson River and has been a steadfast voice for mothers who have often been ignored. His understanding of the intersection between corporate interests and government regulation is precisely what we need in this critical role.
    I understand that the political landscape is fraught with emotion and disappointment, especially with the current administration. However, we must recognize that this is an opportunity for real, transformative change in our food systems—an opportunity to reshape the relationship between corporate interests and government oversight in a way that prioritizes public health and environmental responsibility.
    As a mother, a farmer, a chef, and a concerned citizen, it would be a grave mistake to overlook the potential for substantial reform that RFK Jr. could bring to the Department of Health and Human Services. We have the chance to make significant strides toward a healthier food system and a more just society.
    I urge the members of the United States Senate to move quickly to confirm Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. as the next Secretary of Health and Human Services so that we can begin the critical work of making our nation’s food supply and its people healthy again.
    Mollie Engelhart is an accomplished restauranteur, organic chef and regenerative farmer. 
    This article was originally published by RealClearHealth and made available via RealClearWire.
  5. Guest Writers
    by Christine Schueckler
    If you’ve ever spent more than fifteen minutes on any social media or news platform, you’ve probably encountered “rage bait” content. Misleading headlines, out-of-touch opinions, and nonsensical commentary can be intentionally ridiculous, designed to make viewers click, view, and write scathing rebuttals in the comments section. Like it or not, the more it annoys us, the longer we remember it. This is exactly what the creators of this content want.
    Rage baiting is no longer restricted to Instagram Reels and TikTok, however. Political commentators are perhaps the worst offenders, provoking their audiences to righteous outrage. We’ve all experienced this: A voice in the political sphere discredits, debases, and insults those who believe differently, convincing his audience that he is morally and intellectually superior, while his opponents are evil, idiotic, or both.
    This has to stop.
    A 2023 Pew Research Center study found that 65 percent of American adults find thinking about politics “exhausting,” while another 55 percent stated that thinking about politics makes them angry. Those who were the most politically engaged were the angriest across the board, regardless of political party. And since 2016, both parties have increasingly reported that it is “stressful and frustrating” to discuss politics with those whom they disagree with.
    To be sure, there is much to be angry about. I find political debates to be “stressful and frustrating” as well. But when frustration with the convictions of the opposing party turns into anger at individuals—everyday Americans—with whom we disagree, a line has been crossed.
    Both Republicans and Democrats are guilty of negatively stereotyping each other, equating one type of person with the whole and thus dehumanizing every member of the opposite party. Democrats seem to regard Republicans as Trump-worshipping, uneducated, fanatically religious, racist hicks. At the same time, Republicans stereotype their opponents as purple-haired, Satan-worshipping, self-righteous snowflakes. None of this is productive.
    Stereotypes exist for a reason. Certainly, people of both descriptions do exist. But political news outlets perpetuate these clichés to dehumanize the other side, to make us angry. And it’s working.
    In order to heal the stark divisions in our country, we need to approach one another with compassion and understanding. It’s baffling to see how many members of both parties have never taken the time to understand the other point of view and learned to say, “I disagree, but I understand.” This is vital for the future of constructive discourse in our nation.
    What many fail to recognize is that someone can be wrong and still have the best of intentions. I firmly believe that the majority of voters in both parties are motivated by concern for the well-being of others, care for the oppressed, and human equality. We may have different definitions of what constitutes “well-being”; we may prioritize different forms of equality. But almost everyone is doing what they think is right.
    It’s easy to demonize our rivals, to write them off as twisted and evil. It’s easy to become complacent in our own convictions and decide that we have nothing to learn from the opposition. However, I hold that you can’t truly know what you believe until your views are formidably challenged.
    We need to be willing to engage with those with whom we disagree—with friendliness, respect, and an open mind. I speak from experience when I say that I’ve learned far more about my conservative beliefs by engaging with my more liberal peers than I ever have from conservative media outlets.
    The media wants us to be angry. It drives up their viewership numbers and keeps us coming back for more, anxiously waiting to hear what terrible thing the other side will do next. It has no incentive to treat its rivals as humans with past experiences and honestly held convictions. But we do. The end of political polarization begins with the individual, with respect and open dialogue. Our country relies on every one of us to treat each other as humans instead of sycophantic, faceless cogs in the political machine.
    J.M. Barrie wrote, “Shall we make a new rule of life from tonight: always to try to be a little kinder than is necessary?” This is what America needs. Begin by assuming the best of intentions, then listen. Be a little kinder than is necessary.
    Christine Schueckler is a third-year English and French student at the University of Virginia.
    This content originally appeared on InetellectualTakeout.org and is is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
  6. Guest Writers
    We take pleasure in answering at once and thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

    Dear Editor,
    I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth: Is there a Santa Claus?
    Virginia O'Hanlon, 115 West 95th Street.
    ***************************
    Virginia, your little friends are wrong.
    They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except (what) they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
    Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
    Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
    You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
    No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
     

    Francis P. Church, Editor
    1897
     
  7. Guest Writers
    by Barry Brownstein
    Political divisions are ugly, and those divisions have spilled over onto the Thanksgiving table. One study found that “partisan differences cost American families 62 million person-hours of Thanksgiving time.” Presumably those same differences are impacting the quality of family time throughout the year.
    Time to count our blessings has become another opportunity to count our grievances.
    Here are five suggestions to help bring harmony to your Thanksgiving table.
    1. Begin with your purpose in mind
    Our mind selectively interprets our experience, in part, based upon where our attention is focused.
    When our purpose at the dinner table is clouded by wishes to feel superior to a relative who “just doesn’t get it” we are setting ourselves up for an unhappy Thanksgiving. Since our attention is directed by our purpose, our mind will jump on every shred of evidence to confirm that our relative is a “problem.”
    By allowing our mind to gnaw on irritations and grievances, we have made harmony dependent upon others behaving as we think they should. Notice, as details of our complaints fill our mind, we suffer more.
    We can lead by going first; we can find our higher purpose for this year’s Thanksgiving gathering. As we take our attention off disagreements with others, we can watch the quality of conversation change.
    2. Ask yourself: Would I rather be right or be happy?
    Is it important to have an opinion about everything?  How often do we look for a pause in the conversation so we can tell others why they are wrong?
    When we express an opinion that doesn’t need to be expressed, we are saying to the other person: My function is to correct you, and your function is to accept my correction. Should we be surprised if others resist us?
    Ryan Holiday, author of several books on Stoicism, writes of the price we pay for our opinions:
    “If you were to think of the worst punishment you could inflict on a person it would be to cast a spell on them that says, ‘You will now have a strong opinion on everything you see and hear.’ Why? Because inevitably they find that much of what happens to them is disagreeable to that opinion, and worse, they will find themselves in many pointless disagreements with other people about those opinions.”
    Here is the good news. We can be grateful for our opinionated relatives; they provide us an opportunity to practice not having to always be right. We can choose, instead, to be curious about the opinions of others.
    3. Practice Ben Franklin’s humility rule
    In his autobiography, Ben Franklin writes of learning of a flaw in his own character revealed to him by a friend: “I was generally thought proud, that my pride showed itself frequently in conversation, that I was not content with being in the right when discussing any point, but was overbearing and rather insolent.”
    Franklin realized he was lacking in humility and, despite practice, he could not “boast of much success in acquiring the reality of this virtue.” So, Franklin added a rule to his life:
    “I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to the sentiments of others, and all positive assertion of my own. I even forbid myself, the use of every word or expression in the language that imported a fixed opinion, such as certainly, undoubtedly, etc., and I adopted, instead of them, I conceive, I apprehend, or I imagine a thing to be so or so, or it so appears to me at present.”
    Franklin noticed how contradicting others gave him pleasure: “When another asserted something that I thought an error, I denied myself the pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately some absurdity in his proposition.”
    This Thanksgiving, we can practice denying ourselves the “pleasure” of contradicting others.
    4. Understand the nature of feelings
    We believe that the intensity of our feelings is a signal that we are right and others are wrong. Upset feelings are a guide to the quality of our thinking and not the correctness of our position. When we experience intense emotions, we commonly attribute our emotions to what is external. We are certain that “obnoxious” Uncle Joe has caused our discomfort by expressing his flawed opinions.
    Full stop! Being irritated, being annoyed, being angry are pre-existing qualities in us and are not caused by Uncle Joe. Our reaction to Uncle Joe reveals to us a flaw in our own character.
    Instead of irritation, we can cultivate gratitude by remembering how the sacrifices of the family members sitting at our table have improved our lives.
    5. Reflect on our shared human experience
    Politics is divisive, but all human experiences have common elements.
    Viktor Frankl, the famed psychiatrist and author of Man’s Search for Meaning also wrote The Will to Meaning. In it he describes a “tragic triad” of human experiences. He observed, “There is no human being who may say that he has not failed, that he does not suffer, and that he will not die.”
    Before a cosmic moment has gone by, everyone at our Thanksgiving tables will experience Frankl’s “tragic triad.”
    We can look at the faces around the table and let our hearts melt with the truth of our common journey.
    When we focus on what we share, and not what divides us, Love comes to the forefront of our experience.
     
    Barry Brownstein is professor emeritus of economics and leadership at the University of Baltimore. He is the author of The Inner-Work of Leadership, and his essays have also appeared at the American Institute for Economic Research, the Foundation for Economic Education, and many other publications. To receive Barry’s essays in your inbox, visit his Substack.
    This content originally appeared on InetellectualTakeout.org and is is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
  8. Guest Writers
    by Cadence McManimon
    I don’t think it would be a shock to anyone to point out that traditionalists often romanticize, even idolize, 1950s American culture. Why?
    I think the allure lies in nostalgia, even nostalgia for a time we’ve never experienced. It’s easy to romanticize an era which we think embodies our values and lifestyle dreams. In reality, there were definitely good things about the ’50s we could bring back. And of course, there were a number of dangerous societal trends that gained traction in this decade, too. Let’s explore a few and see why we tend to idolize the ’50s, and whether we should reframe our perspective.
    ’50s Trends to Bring Back
    A celebration of the male and female dichotomy.
    After the end of WWII, the young male population returned to their home country and home lives. This long-awaited masculine return resulted, of course, in the baby boom: the generation we know now as “boomers.” It also had ripple effects through pretty much all of daily life.
    Women were able to leave the workforce and return to a home-centeredlifestyle, to raise children, to cook and clean and socialize. Men returned to a workforce bolstered by government programs, to fatherhood and breadwinning, to building businesses and the economy. Married couples got to live out masculinity and femininity in their day-to-day lives since the war was over and massive national poverty had ended. Compare this to today, when the dichotomy of male and female is not just overlooked but downright villainized.
    A booming economy of affordability and comfort.
    Adjusted for inflation, the average 1950s house cost about $90,000 in today’s U.S. dollar, a living standard well within reach and sustainability for most suburban families. Many young couples were able to marry, start a family, and buy a house relatively quickly due to the low cost of housing—the average house cost only three years of pre-tax income for the average family.
    With the blossoming economy came many comforts previously difficult to access. Beauty parlors hosted women regularly, and many women spent an average of two hours at a salon every week. Movie theaters, soda shops, roller rinks, dance halls, and sports events were regular activities for students and young adults. Colleges, too, were affordable to attend. As my paternal grandfather once said, “the 1950s was the best time to be alive.” Pay was good, living was cheap, and dozens of daily comforts opened their doors to the average citizen.
    A classic aesthetic. 
    One of the first things almost any traditionalist is drawn to is a classy, objectively beautiful aesthetic. And the decade of the ’50s had it in spades.

    Likely this aesthetic has its roots in the celebration of male versus female. How many traditionalists say things like “back when men looked like men and women dressed like women”? Fashion choices reverted from war-ration creativity to flamboyantly fun clothes for daily wear, even for stay-at-home mothers and school children.
    The wildly popular fashions were amplified on the silver screen, of course. Enter the golden age of Hollywood, which revolved around beautiful cinematography and color film, stunning actresses like Audrey Hepburn, and newfangled music stars like Elvis Presley. Films and music in this time set the standard for the future, and many hits from back then are still audience favorites today.
    ’50s Trends to Leave in the Past
    Rampant materialism and commercialism. 
    Arguably, the rise of materialism was a response to the back-to-back crises of the Great Depression and WWII in previous decades, when basic necessities were scarce and luxuries unthinkable. Due to the booming economy, the ’50s saw a skyrocketing focus on consumerism and materialism.
    Companies capitalized on commercialism by marketing heavily in popular aesthetics, as well as targeting their ads toward stay-at-home mothers who did the majority of shopping for households. Society in general began setting a high value on image, appearances, and the latest trendy products of the day.
    Whereas previous decades may have promoted more solidarity and support through the trials of need and war, this consumerism of the ’50s sowed seeds of comparison and “keeping up with the Joneses.”
    The daily division of the nuclear family. 
    During the average daily hours, a father was at work and away from home, all the children were in public school separated from each other based on age, and a mother was home alone or out and about with a social calendar.
    In previous decades, of course, men were often primary breadwinners; but in this era began the idea of the daily commute, thus removing men from coming home to eat meals with their families. Women in previous decades often worked jobs based from home, but in this decade, many didn’t have to earn an income at all. Their free time often turned into social calendars, charity work, and women’s events… few of which would include their children or husbands. Other women chose to retain their jobs from the previous decade’s wartime, further removing all family members from the home.
    Public schools exploded in both enrollment and physical size, to accommodate the baby boomers’ growing up. Another major influence in the public school system was 1954’s Brown vs Board Of Education, which resulted in the federal desegregation of schools. While, of course, desegregation was a positive, it was also a shock to an unprepared school system: This contributed to increased class sizes, school needs, job demands for teachers, and increasing need for school busing commutes.
    One result of these bigger classes, changing social dynamics, and a larger teacher-student ratio was the explosion of teen culture. This unique young adult clique began to wield enormous power via peer pressure to levels hitherto unforeseen in American childhoods.
    An emotionally promiscuous dating scene. 
    With the rise of teen culture came an unprecedented lack of supervision in the dating world. Possibly in an effort to just let kids be kids, the prevailing attitude around dating became “just have fun!” Generally, most of society agreed on keeping sexual chastity, but at the same time, media and society encouraged young people to date around at younger and younger ages and to worry about committing to a spouse later.
    Interestingly, despite condemning sexual promiscuity, society developed a sort of emotional hookup culture. It actually was quite common to have multiple boyfriends or girlfriends, to secretly date someone else’s “steady,” and to engage in plenty of “parking” and “necking.” I personally can see how this may have set the stage for the sexual revolution of the ’60s and ’70s.
    It’s also worth noting that by the 1950s, Margaret Sanger had founded abortion birth control mogul Planned Parenthood, and in the ’50s, Hugh Hefner began Playboy magazine. Both companies attacked fundamental gender roles and societal standards even while these roles and standards were prized in fashion, social circles, and commercial marketing.
    In the end, we can ask ourselves a number of questions: Was beautiful fashion worth the skyrocketing media reliance? Does a booming economy justify materialism? We might consider many answers. Overall, though, I think it’s safe to say one thing: No historical era was perfect.
    Traditionalists shouldn’t look at the past with rosy lenses and wish themselves back in time. Every generation had strengths and weaknesses, good ideas and bad mistakes. Why? Humanity is still human, and we always have been and always will be. Let’s not do our current generation the disservice of claiming previous ones were so much better.
     
    Cadence McManimon is a published author, former special education teacher, and now a wife and mother. She has too many houseplants, plenty of artsy projects, and not enough pens that work! (Doesn't everyone?) Her novels Name Unspoken and The Lily Girl are available at her website cadencemcmanimon.com. Her favorite things include crayons, sarcasm, Sherlock Holmes, and hearing from readers!
    This content originally appeared on InetellectualTakeout.org and is is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
  9. Guest Writers
    by Rebecca Friedrichs
    Facebook chief Mark Zuckerburg now admits in writing that he was manipulated by the Biden administration into suppressing free speech on Meta platforms. His actions obstructed vital information on effective COVID protocols, and bolstered the lie that the Hunter Biden laptop was Russian disinformation. This did enormous damage to our health and polity.
    But Facebook’s censorship brought harm to innocent children too. I’m a longtime teacher, and for decades I’ve personally witnessed dangerous corruption in America’s schools. I dared to warn families, so I was silenced by Zuckerberg’s “shadow-banning,” thanks to algorithms imposed by censors (“fact checkers”) at Meta.
    Meta’s banning (as well as Twitter’s) began the very same night of my 2020 speech at the Republican National Convention. My pages changed from active with hundreds of likes and shares to zero likes and shares. And I went from rapid, daily follower increases to a complete halt in growth. Hundreds of my followers have reached out to me since the banning began to tell me that they no longer see my posts in their newsfeeds. Instagram’s (Meta’s) analytics show that an average of only 25% of my followers are seeing my content. That’s how shadow-banning works. I’m allowed to post, but my message is squelched.
    Though I’m a volunteer in this battle for the kids, I had to hire social media experts to help me get my message to the public. They’ve reignited my social media presence – predominantly on Meta’s Instagram – with a reel-heavy strategy. Our ratios are the highest they’ve ever been – with the exception of follower count. That doesn’t add up.
    It’s even worse on Facebook and X. We have high hopes that we’ll be freed on X since Elon is now in charge, but we’ve been unable to reach their tech team for support and believe our pre-existing Twitter shadow-banning has yet to be lifted on X.
    Government tech is suppressing my speech because I exposed so-called teacher unions for morphing America’s schools into social, sexual, and political warzones, and I shared personal stories of how they pick on loving teachers and little kids. Though I spoke 100% eyewitness truth, I’m still shadow-banned four years later.
    I know many people like me who are also banned on social media. We’re denied our free speech rights, while the predators we’re exposing broadcast loudly.
    Zuckerberg stated that he believes “the government pressure [to censor content] was wrong.” He also penned, “I feel strongly that we should not compromise our content standards due to pressure from any Administration in either direction – and we’re ready to push back if something like this happens again.”
    That sounds nice. But I’m still shadow-banned, and the day after Zuckerberg’s letter released, my personal page was inexplicably suspended. Many of my allies in the cause for truth are banned too.
    Because of the censorship, we’re now ruled by tyrants. I have friends whose family members died from untested COVID shots and government-mandated hospital protocols. I know many who are suffering serious shot-related health complications. And the kids I’ve been trying to protect are being sexualized in our schools in record numbers.
    That’s why I’m concerned about Zuckerberg’s claims that he’ll “push back if something like this happens again,” because it’s still happening – it never stopped. He never freed us from censorship.
    Nothing Zuckerburg can say now will erase the injury he and the other tech titans have done to the country that made them billionaires. But I’ll believe he’s sorry when he ends the silencing of honest Americans like me.
    Who knows how many Americans are dead, or severely injured, because tech titans silenced expert opposing views about the government’s handling of COVID? How many of those untested shots would have been rejected? How many patients would have taken commonsense, award-winning medicines like ivermectin and hydroxychloroquine, instead of dying on ventilators?
    How many Americans might have voted differently in 2020 had they known the Hunter Biden laptop – loaded with authoritative accounts of government corruption and crime – was legitimate?
    A little closer to home, how many additional families have lost their children to sexualized curricula, school violence, and the transgender agenda because Zuckerberg blocked our vital information about corruption in government schools? How many kids lost two years of learning because schools were shuttered thanks to the politicking of teacher unions? 
    While those unscrupulous unions enjoy the freedom to propagandize on social media, thousands of commentators, including myself, are still shunted off the main feeds of innumerable apps because we dare stray from the official government tech line.
    That my friends, is reflective of communism.
    In regard to demoting the Hunter laptop as “Russian disinformation,” Zuckerburg now says, “We’ve changed our policies and processes to make sure this doesn’t happen again – for instance, we no longer temporarily demote things in the U.S. while waiting for fact-checkers.”
    Since I’ve been demoted for four years without explanation, this is not reassuring.
    And what about the hundreds of millions of dollars in cash Zuckerburg doled out to nearly 2,500 counties in 49 states? All on the up-and-up? Not according to numerous skeptics, including Hans von Spakovsky, a former Federal Election Commission member who in 2021 said it was clearly an effort to aid Democrats.
    Spakovsky said “this was a carefully orchestrated attempt to convert official government election offices into get-out-the-vote operations for one political party.”
    In a contemporary period where numerous government agencies are weaponized to serve the so-called Democratic Party in its persecution of those they dislike, Zuckerberg’s words here are poignant.
    “I know that some people believe this work benefited one party over the other,” Zuckerburg deadpanned, adding meaningfully, “I don’t plan on making a similar contribution this cycle.”
    But it’s hard to believe a man who cannot fully admit that his actions did benefit Democrats over the democratic process, and who continues blocking truth-tellers on the very day he released his confession.
    Calling your bluff, Zuckerberg. Prove your sincerity by freeing persecuted truth-tellers like me. You can find me @RebeccaForKids.
     
     
    Rebecca Friedrichs is the founder of For Kids and Country, author of Standing Up to Goliath, and a 28-year public school teacher who was lead plaintiff in Friedrichs v. California Teachers Association.
    This article was originally published by RealClearPolitics and made available via RealClearWire.
  10. Guest Writers

    Farm Tough

    By Guest Writers,

    by Ray Craig
    Recently, my 10-year-old son, Eric, made a play in his baseball game that I was particularly proud of.
    He didn’t strike out the side or make a fantastic stop in the field. He didn’t smash a double down the left-field line.
    No, it wasn’t a remarkable play at all—Eric was hit by a pitch on his arm while batting.
    What pleased me was how Eric casually dropped his bat and sprinted to first, similar to when he draws a base on balls.
    It’s sad, but this behavior from a young boy is now about as rare as one of these kids knocking a home run over the fence.
    For whatever reason, most young boys now cry and make a scene if they suffer any pain—however minor—on the field, usually carrying on until the umpire or coach runs out to attend to them. Before long, Mom and Dad are rushing into the dugout, and the kids from both teams get into the act by kneeling to show respect to the injured player, similar to when they take a player off the field on a stretcher during an NFL game. The commotion quickly comes to a close when the youngster miraculously shakes off the injury and finds his way to first base.
    I look to the ground and cringe at the overreaction whenever this happens.
    Reflecting on where this early behavior leads, I think about the excuses employees at my business give for wanting to work from home in this post-COVID world. A recent humdinger was a boy in his mid-20s who said he couldn’t make the 10-minute walk from his apartment to our downtown office because it was raining and he couldn’t find his umbrella. Not exactly “greatest generation” material.
    Back on the Farm
    When Eric quickly shook off the hit by pitch the other night, memories of growing up with my dad, grandpa, and uncle on our farm flashed into my head.
    I recalled the countless times I saw them suddenly cut their hands working on machinery, fixing a fence, or getting pinched between a gate and heavy livestock. I would notice the blood and point it out. My remark would usually get them smiling as they carelessly wiped their hands on their shirt or jeans before returning to their job like nothing had happened.
    I think about my mom in her early 70s still taking care of things around our 10-acre farm. I picture her working outside in the summer wind and heat, using a push mower on the bank of grass between the blacktop and our house.
    I am thankful for my niece, who gritted through this recent college softball season. She probably never felt better than 50–60 percent but kept showing up game after game as a courageous example for her teammates.
    Next in Line
    While Eric is growing up as a city kid, I am happy he has picked up this toughness. As his dad, I know I am his most critical role model in this area.
    But to hammer the message home, I hung up Rudyard Kipling’s “If—” poem on his bedroom wall, alongside an autographed black-and-white photo of Iowa’s all-time best baseball player, farmer’s son, and Cleveland Indians’ hall-of-fame pitcher Bob Feller (my grandpa’s favorite). Next to those items is a framed photo of Derek Jeter’s famous catch when Jeter dove headfirst into the Yankee Stadium seats to snare a pop-up against the Red Sox.
    Eric and I watch the Rocky movies and Pride of the Yankees together. We check out the recent Nolan Ryan documentary. And we stream The Last Dance series, where a young Michael Jordan risks his career by playing with a devastating foot injury and still scores a playoff-record 63 pointsagainst Larry Bird and the Boston Celtics.
    Most of all, I look for ways to surround my kids with people who demonstrate this same fortitude. I travel back to Iowa at least three times every year so the kids spend more time with their grandma, aunts, uncles, and cousins who approach life the same way.
    Cowboy Up
    As I went to bed on Father’s Day this year, I wasn’t ready to sleep. I scrolled through our video library and landed on 8 Seconds, the 1994 movie about the legendary bull rider Lane Frost, a film my own dad always liked.
    While watching, it struck me that a lot of people right now could use a kick in the butt like the one Tuff Hedeman, another bull rider, gave to Lane in 8 Seconds.
    (Language warning): 

     
    Lane was in pain from his last bull and was down on himself after a string of bad rides. He started whining about how he should quit the only thing he had ever loved to do.
    Tuff: “I got two words to say to you.”
    Lane: “Yeah, I know. It’s ‘f—’”
    Tuff: “That ain’t it!”
    Lane: “Well what is it?”
    Tuff: “Cowboy up.”
    The sooner, the better.
    This article was originally published by RealClearMarkets and made available via RealClearWire.
  11. Guest Writers
    by Rob Smith
    Convention, customs, manners and civility.
    When my daughter Ella was 16, I met her at a local restaurant for dinner. I was already seated when she arrived and before I could hold the chair out for her, she plopped down in the seat next to me. I was livid. I stood up and told her to get her ass out of the chair and stand up. I told her to always wait until the gentleman held the chair out for her, no matter how long it takes. I followed with “you need to demand respect from men, because if you don’t, you’ll never get it.”
    Manners are important. Indeed, they are the adhesive glue that binds society together and allows it to operate in smooth, orderly and conciliatory fashion. Like all convention, customs and manners developed organically because they served important functions. There was never a top-down Napoleonic Code of Manners that was dictated to the populace by some sort of government edict. I think all would agree that we have seen a degradation of civil society over the past 30 plus years. Our cities are trashed, there’s violence in the streets, and  civil adult discourse is rare. Politicians and talking heads are totally uninhibited from telling not just “straight up lies,” but lies that are so fantastically and obvious false that a 3rd grader can immediately recognize the deceit. I attended schools with rigid honor systems and grew up in a culture where such blatant dishonesty made one an outcast and an immediate social pariah, cast out from respectable society. I remember a childhood contemporary was kicked out of boarding school for cheating on a test. At the time, this seemed like a punishment worse than death, as he would have to live with the stigma of dishonor the rest of his life. These long-established honor codes reflected the mores of the culture, anyone who violated these standards polluted the student population and had to be immediately drummed off campus. Today dishonesty seems to be rewarded as long as it advances an agenda.
    I have lots of nicknames, Robbie, Jones, Big Rob, Big, B.R., B-aura, Mr. Bread Truck, Professor and a few others, one of which is Mr. Mayor. I don’t know why folks call me Mayor, but I have thought quite a lot of what I would do if I was the mayor of Richmond, or better yet Governor of Virginia. The very first initiative, before any government policy proposals would be to start a campaign to re-establish civility and good manners. And what better place to begin than Richmond, Virginia, which I am quite sure, at one point not terribly long ago was the good manners capital of the world. I want to bring those days back. An initiative like this takes leadership and passion. Oh, how I hate to see what is happening to my city, not to mention the fabric of our national culture. My campaign would be much like Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No” program. No government money.
    When Robert E. Lee became president of what would become Washington and Lee University in 1865, he initiated the “Speaking Rule.” Other Virginia schools followed. I don’t remember there being such a rule at the University of Virginia, primarily because the natural, organic culture that already existed was one spoke to everyone he passed and engaged in a pleasantry. It’s demoralizing to walk down the sidewalk in Richmond and watch your oncoming neighbor try NOT to make eye contact to avoid speaking. They know nothing of the “speaking rule,” and it’s sad. In the world of social media where people rage at complete strangers, there is no better salve than to look someone in the eye , smile and say “Good morning.”
    Good manners revolve around respect for others, and of course such respect is the essence of the Golden Rule. Good manners have a transcendental nature in that they create a system that one can’t see and can’t touch, but nonetheless create a benign social order. This evolves into a “custom” which evolves further into an almost universal “convention.” Kindness, gentleness, respect and tolerance are the result. Moreover, when a child is raised in this social order, this invisible ethos of civility instills itself in one’s personality, it is imbued, cooked in the sauce, and the act of being well mannered and thoughtful occurs without any conscience volition or effort to be that way. A few years ago, I visited two older gentleman I knew in the Alzheimer’s ward. There were ladies present, and I’ll never forget, although they couldn’t remember their names, they didn’t forget their manners. They were as we say perfect “southern gentlemen.” It was “baked in.”
    Before the advent of “business casual,” we all wore suits. How well I can remember 100 degree, extremely humid days and the perfumed smell of tobacco resting in downtown Richmond warehouses. Despite the heat and humidity, men did not take off their jackets when wandering outside their offices. If one was in the presence of a lady, the custom was to seek her permission before taking off one’s jacket. Now this might sound archaic to some, but the foundation of this rule, like so many others, is respect for and deference to women. As these exercises in civility have waned, what are we left with? The absolute barbarity of men beating the tar out of women in an Olympic sport.
    Dressing well is important.  By putting forth an effort to look nice, you exhibit respect and appreciation towards everyone you encounter, but the respect works both ways, your dress illustrates that you respect yourself.  Likewise, being punctual illustrates your respect for the other party and the value of his time, but it also illustrates that you respect yourself.
    Boy, how many lessons did I learn from my father! Always stand when a lady enters a room. Stand when she leaves the dinner table and stand again when she returns. Ladies are always served first. Never, ever begin to eat until the last lady at the table has picked up her fork and put food in her mouth.  I’ll always remember him telling me to always wear a sports jacket and sometimes a tie when traveling on a plane. “Son, wherever you go in this world, you are a representative of the Commonwealth of Virginia and our family.” When I was old enough to drive and before cell phones, the custom was to follow a woman home and make sure she got into her house safely. When I see kids that I coached or taught in Sunday School wearing a hat in restaurant, I yank it off their heads and ask them what the hell is wrong with them. That was Dad’s biggest pet peeve! Offer the black housekeepers walking through the neighborhood to the bus stop a ride. Always be a good sport, and win or lose after any competition, whether athletic or business, shake the other fella’s hand. When using the telephone, introduce yourself and say “may I speak to,” and not “is so and so there.” Never go through a woman’s pocketbook or anyone’s mail. There’s a proper way to shake hands. Oh, he was a stickler for proper English! Using words correctly and phrased pleasantly honors the recipient. And, I will never forget exactly where I was when I heard the biggest rule of all. I was 5 years old. Dad was driving.  I can remember the story Dad told me, the exact bend in the road and the message was the most despicable thing a man could ever do, and was never, ever permissible under and circumstances, was to hit a woman!
    Robert C. Smith is Managing Partner of Chartwell Capital Advisors, a senior fellow at the Parkview Institute, and likes to opine on the Rob Is Right Podcast and Webpage.This article was originally published by RealClearMarkets and made available via RealClearWire.
  12. Guest Writers
    by Walker Larson
    Recently, I was in search of trout, but my search resulted in more than just fish.
    I’ve been a fly fisherman for over a decade, but when I moved to Wisconsin a few years back, I lost easy access to my favorite haunts. So I was searching for a new stretch of untouched waters to fish near my home, a journey that led me through the winding backroads of the coulees in my area, as the evening summer sun soaked the little fields in liquid bronze and made the tree line glisten. I headed to a stream a few valleys over from my own.
    I’d been through the quiet recesses of this valley before, seen many of the farmsteads from the road as I drove past, but I didn’t know who lived in them. I didn’t know many people in my area, apart from those living on the dead-end road I call home.
    The decision to talk to the natives was partly one of self-preservation. In Wisconsin, you can legally fish any navigable waterway as long as you enter at a public access point and keep your feet wet. Still, I’m reticent to assume that all my neighbors know this law. I’d hate to end up on the wrong end of a shotgun of some backwoodser with hair sprouting from his nose and ears, faded baseball cap cocked atop his ragged hair, glaring with wild eyes at the presence of an intruder on his land. I thought I’d better get permission from the landowners before venturing into the creek to avoid such an encounter.
    In reality, of course, everyone I spoke to was nothing like my imaginary backwoodsman. They were all well-shaven, friendly, remarkably helpful, and deeply interested in identifying our mutual acquaintances (of which there turned out to be more than I expected). Somehow, the fact that most of them knew the people on my road better than I did made me feel more at home.
    In a flash, my own lane and the people on it was not some isolated rural outpost, but rather a place and a people familiar to a wide network of families living in the area. And, conversely, this new valley I was exploring suddenly took on a little of the flavor of home, for there were old bonds of friendship and shared history between my immediate neighbors and my new acquaintances, some of whom seemed as permanent as the hills themselves.
    The folks I talked to knew the exact house I lived in, which they referred to affectionately as “Robinsons’ place.” Of course, my home does not belong to the Robinsons and hasn’t for some time. But in those valleys, memory and tradition hold strong, and my presence of two years hardly amounts to more than a pit stop in the eyes of the locals. Somehow, I know that the acreage I call home won’t truly be “the Larsons’ place” for many years to come, not until generations of us have lived and died here. We haven’t earned that designation yet.
    One of the men I talked to–a thin, leathery fellow with a weather-worn face–drew me a verbal map of the valley and the interwoven streams and tributaries that flow through and around it, like veins on the back of a hand.
    “I used to trap mink and rats all up through there,” he said, eyes fastened on the distant ridges, or maybe on the distant past.
    I had a confused image flash through my mind of enormous mousetraps out in the marshes and woods. Who would go to the trouble of trapping a rat? Can there really be that much skin on a rat? And who would buy a rat pelt? Gross.
    Then it dawned on me. “Muskrats?” I asked, innocently.
    “Muskrats, yeah,” he said, turning to me with a puzzled look, as though there were no other kinds of rats in existence. “I’d get 30 or 40 rats through the valley, but they’re all gone now. I don’t know what happened.”
    Another woman I spoke with told me how she’d lived in the same house for 33 years, there beside the creek. I looked at the house–an old white one, a little dirty and worn, but solid-looking–and thought of how many scenes of one family’s joys and sorrows its walls had witnessed.
    The woman (we’ll call her Harriet) had spoken a little briskly to me at first, when she wasn’t yet sure who I was or what I wanted, but she soon softened, and her warmth was as palpable as that of the muggy, summer evening. She had an odd habit of ending almost every sentence with, “And that,” or sometimes, “and that. So.” (“We’ve lived here for 33 years, and that. So.”) It was as if every item of conversation were added to some imaginary list of all the things that are. It made each remark somehow homey and also more significant. This quirk in her speech made the next thing she said more poignant than it otherwise would have been:
    “You know Dane? On your road?” Harriet asked.
    “Yeah, I’ve met him.”
    “He passed away.”
    I hadn’t known this until a half hour before, when the muskrat trapper told me.
    “I just heard that.”
    “He was one of our best friends. A groomsman in our wedding, and that.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t know him well. He seemed like a really good guy.” He had plowed my driveway once in the winter, refusing any payment except my promise to visit him sometime.
    “Yeah, he was an amazing guy.”
    “Cancer, wasn’t it?”
    “Yeah, cancer, and that. So.”
    Half an hour later, as I stood in the shimmering water, cold as a Wisconsin winter, staring at the bejeweled back of a brook trout, I knew that in my fishing trip I had caught something more than the shadowy, elusive fish who own these little pools and little riffles under the canopied banks, where the drowsy summer flies buzz and the many-voiced water sings an endless song–I’d snatched a little scrap of human connection, of old stories and relationships, of history unique to the valleys where I live, that I didn’t have before, that I didn’t even know existed. It had been there long before my arrival and, no doubt, will continue long after I’m gone. Of course, the pressures of modern technology, transportation, economics, political divides, and the general fragmentation of society threaten this scrap of old-fashioned human community. But I was gratified to know it still exists in some places.
    The realization didn’t come without regret, however. If I had been more integrated into the local community, if I’d met more of my neighbors sooner, I might have known the ordeal my next-door neighbor was undergoing. I didn’t even know he was sick, let alone that he had died, until I talked to other people in my area. What breakdown of local culture must have occurred so that a man living right next to me had gone through his final days, died, and been buried, and I’d known nothing of it, driven past his house every day none the wiser? If I had known, perhaps I could have done something for him.
    At the very least, I could have fulfilled my promise to visit him in payment for his plowing my driveway.
     
    Walker Larson holds a BA in writing and an MA in English literature. Prior to becoming a writer, he taught literature and history at a private academy in Wisconsin. He is the author of two novels, Hologram and Song of Spheres. When not working on his acreage or spending time with family and friends, he blogs about literature and education on his Substack, The Hazelnut.
    This article appeared on IntellectualTakeout.org and is shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
  13. Guest Writers
    by Rebekah Bills
    We are under the influence of our stuff—home décor and furnishings, fast fashion, modern art, and too much more—and it’s slowly gnawing away at our contentment and human potential.
    What prompted this realization?
    Some old Sears catalogs, actually. And a love for antiques, the reason for which I couldn’t quite put into words.
    But let me try now.
    While flipping through an old Sears catalog, the beauty of its  illustrations and the quality of the items depicted struck me. How antithetical the now-decades-old catalog appeared in comparison to our modern shopping scene!
    The kinds of products sold in the old catalog bespeak a more holistic view of life, sorely lacking in today’s shopping culture. The items—antiques by today’s standards—appear so much more beautiful than their modern counterparts, and their beauty brings with it a character and a sense of permanence that invites reflection and creativity into the spaces that house them.
    Here, we find once-in-a-lifetime items like homes and tombstones.  Yes, tombstones! These purchases invite much pre-purchase forethought, prompting the buyer to reflect on how the item will serve its purpose over time.

    We might see the tombstones and ponder our mortality, or flip through the houses for sale and imagine our ideal sort of family life.
    Nothing in these catalogs would trigger an impulse buy. It’s impossible to imagine someone buying one of the nice winter coats or the gold-rimmed dinnerware offered in the catalog only to discard it a few weeks or months later. The questions that the catalog prompts in a potential purchaser are of this sort: What would serve my family best for years to come? Is this worthy of being an heirloom one day?
    Contrast that with today’s throwaway culture. Hardly ever would amemento mori such as a tombstone appear in the pages of a shopping catalog. Sure, we’re told to shop local, shop green, and be climate friendly (which many products now dubiously tout), but we often fail to consider how our items will serve not only ourselves in the short-term but also those who come after us; rather, we look only for what suits our immediate needs or wants.
    Consider, for example, Amazon, where one look at an item leads to endless recommendations of similar and related products. In the modern online shopping scene, we find ourselves lost in a microcosm of almost infinite, short-term options. To page through the Sears catalog is to travel back in time to a world more holistic and grounded—in which longevity prevails and a more comprehensive view of life is reflected.
    With our modern preference for faster and cheaper comes the loss of allure that beauty and craftsmanship entail.  Look, for example, at the font and illustrated ads of an old 1918 Sears catalogue and a 1940 Sears Fall and Winter catalogue. Today, even the illustrations themselves reveal a deeper level of craftsmanship. We could frame one of these and hang it in our home.  In addition, the more “everyday” items for sale, such as dinnerware, fine china, and vases, boast beautifully ornate artistry.

    Flipping (digitally) through the old catalog, I couldn’t help but imagine what a home must have looked like furnished with the well-crafted items that were so beautifully hand drawn there. Such exquisite craftsmanship gives items the power to imbue their surroundings with personality and to inspire creativity. I thought of a quote I came across on Pinterest apparently from Turkish playwright Mehmet Murat İldan: “Give me an old house full of memories and I will give you a hundred novels!” Winston Churchill similarly said, “We shape our buildings, thereafter they shape us.”

    I can attest to the accuracy of these sentiments; while studying abroad in Germany, I got to experience quite a few castles, old homes and shops, and quaint inns. And the architecture and the interior furnishings—even of the more modest homes—oozed stories, both real and fictional. The charm of beautiful surroundings was pervasive, and it generated a livelier and more creative thought-life during my time studying abroad.
    And one needn’t have a castle nor even a little old house in a quaint German town to cultivate such an atmosphere of romance and creativity. When my little family moved from our D.C. apartment to a tiny brick townhome and traded our modern (often IKEA) furnishings for old thrift-store finds, our little home experienced the welcome intrusion of personality and mystery that antiques bring with them. Who owned this before? Will this beautifully upholstered bench be passed down to my children someday? Could I gaze at this painting and be transported to another life?
    The movement away from quality, lifelong purchases that prompt such questions and spark creativity is not only displayed in America’s shopping scene but also, more pathologically, echoed in the modern American psyche. We encounter “throwaway” culture in movies and pop music (I recently wrote about Taylor Swift’s latest album and the death of long-term relationships). If something or some relationship isn’t “working for you,” just cut it out (which is not always the wrong approach, but it’s certainly not always the right approach either.)  Don’t feel the love and devotion you once felt in a relationship? Leave. Our purchases, just like our life choices, are constantly subject to the ultimate criterion of today’s culture: whatever makes you happy now.
    And, quite frankly, catering our shopping to our every whim and ever-changing appetites is not conducive to the cultivation of timeless, finely crafted pieces whose artistry fuels the imagination.
    That’s not to say that modern art cannot be used tastefully nor that every shop these days is guilty of pandering poor-quality items—rather that quality finds are a rarity these days, and our short-term consumer appetites lead us to prefer faster, cheaper solutions with none of the personality of the equivalent items of our forebears.
    Somewhere along the line in our modern world, we traded beauty and quality for endless options, affordability, and convenience. And with this trade, we lost the fine craftsmanship and the attendant romance that things once had. And we lost our ability to connect our purchases with important immaterial goals, such as raising a family or investing in an heirloom. We lost the kind of home that could inspire “a hundred novels.”
    Maybe if we started investing in aesthetic, handcrafted items meant to last a lifetime, we might then better focus on the things that matter and making those things last—a novelty in today’s throwaway, me-oriented culture to be sure, but one very much worth the expense.
     
    Rebekah Bills served four years as a civilian intelligence officer in the Defense Intelligence Agency, earning 6 Individual Act Awards, DIA’s Science and Technology Mission Enabler Award, and the Director’s Personal Coin. Now—her best assignment to date—she cares for her two young sons, Gabriel and Emmanuel, and her exuberant Great Dane puppy, Beowulf.
    This article appeared on IntellectualTakeout.org and is shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
  14. Guest Writers
    by Michaela Estruth
    “When I grow up, I want to be a mom.”
    These are common words to hear from young girls; they aspire to be just like their own mothers.
    But all of a sudden, once those young girls become women, those words become less and less common.
    Has that maternal desire faded?
    Perhaps. But might there be another explanation?
    The question, “What do you want to do?” is a constant ask of every 18- to 22-year-old. College-aged adults like me are just beginning independent lives and discovering the world of opportunities while also discovering a culture of commendation or condemnation. Depending on where we go and what we do, others will either praise us or persecute us. And young adults know this. We can feel it every time someone asks us that question about our future plans.
    If I were to respond to that question with “I want to get married and be a mom,” the average American would stare at me and blink. Then they’d probably say, “Right, but what do you want to do before that?”
    This mindset is just one of the factors contributing to America’s declining birth rates. America’s birth rates reached a record low of 1.6 children per woman in 2023, below the necessary replacement rate of 2.1. The birth rate had been on a rise for the past two years, which many experts attribute to the COVID-19 pandemic. But the statistics now show the continued decline and the lowest rates since 1979.
    This decline cannot be reduced to one factor. The cultural “success message” that delays marriage and family, however, should take some blame.
    Last December, Statista reported on U.S. Census Bureau data showing that the average marrying age for men is 30.2 and for women is 28.4—a marked increase since the 1950s when men married around age 23 and women around age 20.
    Along with getting married later, men and women are also having kids later. Twenty percent of women have their first child after the age of 35, according to a July 2022 article from the National Institute of Health’s News in Health. The article opens explaining why women may postpone starting a family: “There are many reasons you might wait to have kids. You may want to focus on your career. Or save some money first.”
    These are some of the common arguments against getting married and starting a family at a young age. Shouldn’t young women like me first go to grad school, perhaps law school, or at least make a worthwhile living? Don’t we want to travel, let loose, and have fun?
    Of course, all these reasons aren’t inherently wrong or even necessarily unwise, but the point is that people are starting families much later, and often putting off doing so for the sake of perceived personal accomplishment or enjoyment.
    And therein lies the heart of the issue. The cultural sermon preaches “you first” to every young man and woman looking to start adult life. “Do what you want to do. Marriage and family will come later.”
    But here’s the blunt truth: Marriage and family doesn’t just happen to someone. They take time and intentionality. Dating requires patience and thoughtful consideration before making a lifetime commitment to another person. Marriage requires self-sacrifice, a love that is rooted in commitment, not mere sentimental feeling. And a child demands that same self-sacrifice every minute of every day. Being a father or a mother means putting the child’s needs above your own. It means instruction, love, discipline, provision. These are exhausting responsibilities, and yet the most fulfilling. But sadly, the exhaustion and selflessness of parenting causes many to postpone the joys and blessings that overwhelmingly dominate.
    On May 15, Evie Magazine posted an article on X highlighting actress Rachel McAdams as a mother. In the post on X, McAdams is quoted as saying that motherhood is the greatest thing she has ever done, despite years of living the independent dream.
    “Your life is not your own anymore,” McAdams said. “But I had 39 years of me, I was sick of me. I was so happy to put the focus on some other person. I waited a long time. I’m having more fun being a mum than I’ve ever had. Everything about it is interesting and exciting and inspiring to me. Even the tough days — there’s something delightful about them.”
    For McAdams, the famous actress lifestyle wasn’t satisfying. But motherhood was.
    Even though women are still having kids—something that will hopefully never stop—many women aren’t doing so until much later in life, instead pursuing immediate self-fulfillment and enjoyment. Unfortunately, this mindset is also often imposed on a family. One kid is enough work already, so why would two exhausted parents have another?
    Today, a family with more kids is stereotypically deemed Catholic in reference to the Catholic doctrine that opposes contraception. But maybe that family of seven just loves having a big family. One thing is for sure, though: That eldest child was born well before the mom turned 35. That mother wanted to prioritize being a wife and a mom.
    So no, I’m not advocating for every 18-year-old woman to go get her MRS degree. But I am saying that prioritizing marriage and family isn’t a waste of time, energy, or money. In fact, it is an investment in a bright future of laughter and love. So don’t let anyone tell you to not get married and have kids—starting a family is likely the best decision you can ever make.
     
    Michaela Estruth is a rising senior studying history and journalism at Hillsdale College, where she is the senior editor of Hillsdale College’s The Collegian and host of various radio shows. She is a 2022 graduate of WORLD Magazine’s World Journalism Institute and a writing and editing intern for the Colson Center.
    This column originally appeared on IntellectualTakeout.org, and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
    Unsplash
  15. Guest Writers
    by Cadence McManimon
    It doesn’t take a fashion designer’s sense to notice the decline of American clothing in the last few decades. The neat suits and dresses of yesteryear have been replaced with stretchy athleisure, the hats and coats vanished in favor of sweatshirts and leggings.
    Quite honestly, I don’t think fashion and clothing is all that important. Sure, we’ve lost some aesthetics and have nearly erased any sense of modesty. But in the end, clothes are still just clothes, right?
    And yet, even the humblest elements of history have something to teach us in this regard.
    For example, I have been a skinny jeans girl all my life. I literally used to sleep in jeans as a teenager! I prioritize comfort, as do most of my generation. I would be the last person anyone would expect to promote a return to wearing dresses. And yet, here I am, writing this while wearing an ankle-length skirt. What happened to me, a lover of comfortable modern clothes?
    I got pregnant. How very ordinary, right? I am currently expecting my third child with my husband, and since during my pregnancies I tend to get extremely sick, clothing choices rank at the absolute bottom of the priority list. That is, until this third time around, when I have some new symptoms. Let’s just say I am dealing with some inflammation in very sensitive areas! Tight clothes, legging seams, and denim fabric only worsen the discomfort. So, I’ve had to put away my beloved jeans in favor of soft skirts and dresses.
    And that’s when I realized why skirts have been so very practical throughout most of history. Most women, up until recent decades, did a lot more childbearing in their lives. It was common to have at least three children, if not seven or eight or more. Of course skirts would be more comfortable than pants as women carried, delivered, and nursed many consecutive babies! It’s only in recent decades that birth rates and motherhood have drastically decreased.
    On top of that, skirts and dresses are also far more adjustable for changing figures and weight fluctuations, which are a natural part of childbearing. I’ve been surprised these days that the garments that fit me the longest through my pregnancies are different dresses I’ve had since I was a teenager. Historically speaking, this type of adjustability was imperative during centuries when women could only afford two or three dresses. They needed clothes that would fit many seasons of life—it was simply impossible to buy different clothes for different body changes, as we have the option to do today.
    Along with that, historical—that is, non-synthetic—fabrics are far more durable. In the last couple of decades, we have had the luxury of clothing made of elastic fabrics. Clothes made of nylon blends, spandex, and jersey can stretch and accommodate pregnancies easily, as well as being affordable. So why am I nevertheless turning to skirts these days? Simple. Those elastic fabrics don’t hold up. They function like a rubber band and can only be stretched so often before losing their ability to “snap back.”
    The stretchy clothes I do have remain functional for only a year or so. The longest-lasting fabrics—coincidentally, those my dresses are made of, are woven from natural fibers such as cotton, linen, and wool. These fibers are simply more durable, and because they don’t stretch, they last for years and don’t wear out with laundering. It’s easy to see how this greatly benefited mothers throughout history.

    Along with these unexpected practicalities, I’ve also come face to face with dresses being gendered clothing. Our culture has distinctly pursued androgyny and unisex fashion, where men can wear women’s clothing or vice versa. Wearing traditional clothing is not in itself going to fix the gender confusion in our culture. But it does make an often subliminal visual statement.
    I recently came across this post by the Modest Mom from way back in 2012. I was impressed that her primary reasoning for dressing traditionally was not Biblical modesty, as I  expected of her, stereotypically. Instead, she wrote about the stark visual difference skirts give to denote the female versus the male form. She said this is a very easy way to show her children the beauty and differences between the sexes.
    It reminded me of an experiment I took part in back in college. I, my sister, and a good friend were all in the depths of our coursework, and we had a lot of male classmates. We were discussing one day the popularity of androgynous athleisure fashion on our respective campuses. One of us had the bright idea to try a little social experiment just to see what would happen if we dressed completely femininely. So, on a normal day of classes, we each wore a pink dress all day long—and, yes, we agreed it had to be pink.
    We were shocked at the results. Yes, female students would comment “I like that outfit!” or “You look cute.” But the more drastic change came from our male classmates.
    My friend was in organic chemistry with almost exclusively male students; in her group project, she’d been pulling most of the weight in writing a hefty paper. But during the pink dress day, every member of her group offered to do double the amount he’d previously contributed! My sister experienced chivalry in the streets—every car driven by a man stopped to let her cross the road that day. I was offered multiple better seats in lecture halls, and every single time, men I barely even knew opened the door to let me pass. Without exception, we saw a huge increase in the amount of positive attention and deference from men in every setting.
    What was the lesson we learned? Men respond positively to women who look like women! Far from being preyed upon, as modern culture claims, looking feminine offered us three college girls more respect and kindness than wearing androgynous clothes ever did. And of course, I’m not the only writer to have noticed the difference dressing well can make in our lives.
    “What does our own sloppy dress tell us about ourselves?” asks Jeff Minick. “Are we rebelling against the idea of beauty and culture? Or are we just too lazy to pull on a pair of slacks instead of wearing the sweats we slept in?”
    As Maida Korte previously wrote on Intellectual Takeout, “Getting dressed in something more than flannel-patterned pants and a somewhat stale T-shirt signals that we are part of life and living it on purpose.”
    In our modern culture, have we too quickly thrown out skirts? What have we lost by rejecting the classic gendered dress of yesteryear? I don’t think we need to burn our jeans or swear off leggings forever, but we could certainly consider the benefits of returning to clothing that reflects our traditional values. What might dressing traditionally look like in our modern culture? It can start very simply:
    Recognize the value and visual signals of a classically gendered appearance. Apply good hygiene in our daily habits. Take five minutes to do something extra for our appearance, like curling or braiding our hair or having a fresh shave. Choose our clothing pieces thoughtfully. Practice frugality by maintaining the clothing we already have. There are so many small things like this we can practice, things that were commonplace mere decades ago. We don’t need to burn our newer wardrobes, or try to look like sock hop attendees, or start completely from scratch. A few small changes like this go a long way toward making our outward appearance reflect our values. Let’s rediscover the wisdom traditional culture can offer our modern closets.
    Cadence McManimon is a published author, former special education teacher, and now a wife and mother. She has too many houseplants, plenty of artsy projects, and not enough pens that work! (Doesn't everyone?) Her novels Name Unspoken and The Lily Girl are available at her website cadencemcmanimon.com. Her favorite things include crayons, sarcasm, Sherlock Holmes, and hearing from readers!
    This content originally appeared on InetellectualTakeout.org and is is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
    Image credit: Pexels
  16. Guest Writers
    by Jeff Minick
    In George Orwell’s 1984 are dichotomies now familiar to many Americans: “War Is Peace. Freedom Is Slavery. Ignorance Is Slavery.” Inscribed on the outside of the white, pyramid-shaped Ministry of Truth, this is the motto of Oceania, a nation governed by “The Party.”
    The Party designed these slogans to obfuscate the meaning of words, thereby shredding absolute truth and reality. They worked some semantical magic, altered the language, and controlled the people.
    And like the Party in 1984, the media, certain politicians of both political parties, and many academics work diligently to perform these same parlor tricks. These illusionists wave wands over their top hats and out pop not rabbits but words transformed in meaning. Here are a few instances of this linguistic sleight of hand.
    ‘Racism’
    Originally, racism meant a skin-color-based prejudice or bigotry directed by one person or group whose skin was a different shade than the target’s.
    Today, however, many argue that only white people qualify as racists. White people are demonized as such solely on the basis of their skin color. Without the slightest hint of irony, racist writers and speakers rail incessantly against the evils of “white privilege” and “whiteness.”
    Thanks in large part to these bigots, hope for a color-blind society seems dead and buried.
    ‘Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion’ (DEI)
    In a recent interview with The Epoch Times, Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs fame briefly addresses the effects of DEI on the workplace and on our future:
    Suppose our collegiate and professional basketball teams applied DEI to their recruiting. Practicing real diversity and equity on starting teams would mean including three white players, one black player, and one player of another race or ethnic background. This doesn’t happen because the sports world rewards skill and competence.
    At bottom, DEI is simply racism and sexism disguised by language.
    ‘Extremist’
    An extremist according to my online dictionary is “a person who holds extreme or fanatical political or religious views, especially one who resorts to or advocates extreme action.”
    In his September 1, 2022, speech to the nation, Joe Biden lambastedDonald Trump and MAGA Republicans. He said, “Donald Trump and the MAGA Republicans represented an extremism that threatens the very foundations of our republic.”
    In other words, a man who had served as president between 2017 and 2021 (without, notably, the republic’s consequence collapse), the millions who voted him into office, and the millions more who voted for him to be president in 2020, are all extremists.
    Today “extremist” is simply a smear applied with a broad brush and little real meaning.
    ‘Sex Education’
    I remember when sex education was introduced to American schools as a measure to cut teen pregnancy rates and reduce sexually transmitted diseases. Today sex ed goes under the innocuous title “comprehensive sex education,” but the program itself is graphic, radical, and anti-family.
    Like DEI, the Sexuality Information and Education Council of the United States (SIECUS) also sounds bland and innocent, as does the legislation it’s currently pushing, the Real Education and Access for Healthy Youth Act.
    But as commentator and former educator Kali Fontanilla notes of this legislation:
    It’s important to remember that for the Left the term ‘sex education’ is just a euphemism for radical gender ideology and a host of other inappropriate perversions pushed on children. It bears little resemblance to the facts and anatomy-based approach to sex ed that you and I remember from our childhood.
    The words remain the same, but the meaning has been drastically altered.
    Other Euphemisms
    Speaking of euphemisms, here are just a few in use today. “Top surgery” in reality means a bilateral mastectomy for females, often teens, as part of their quest to become males. “Termination of pregnancy” is a substitute for abortion. “Undocumented immigrant” has replaced “illegal alien.”
    Perhaps worst of all is “My truth is not your truth.” It smacks of tolerance, but it erases entirely any concept of truth.
    Politics breeds euphemisms like the old jingle: “Two bunnies make four bunnies, and four bunnies make more bunnies.” Theodore Roosevelt and many other Republicans, for example, once considered themselves progressives, but today a “progressive” is a code word for socialist. TheInflation Reduction Act of 2022 sounds appealing, but it works as a cover for Green New Deal policies and more government spending.
    Given that many in our government, universities, corporations, and media are all in on these alterations, the only way left to prevent verbicide and euphemisms is to refuse to participate in the propaganda. When modern-day racists speak of whiteness, call them out. When some describe themselves as progressives, request a definition. When others trot out some euphemism regarding sex and gender, ask questions and force them to speak in straightforward language.
    Defend the true meaning of words, and you’re defending liberty.
    Jeff Minick lives in Front Royal, Virginia, and may be found online at jeffminick.com. He is the author of two novels, Amanda Bell and Dust on Their Wings, and two works of non-fiction, Learning as I Go and Movies Make the Man.
    This article was republished with permission from IntellectualTakeout.com
  17. Guest Writers
    by Jeff Minick
    On a recent trip from Virginia to Indiana, the friend who was driving me commented on the trash alongside the expressways. With the exception of Route 30’s lightly traveled parts, he was right. Plastic bags, fast-food wrappers, beer bottles, and other debris uglified the roadways.           
    The motel where we stayed that weekend wasn’t much better. Cigarette butts littered the grounds and the parking lot, likely because the motel offered neither outdoor trash cans nor cigarette disposal receptacles.           
    Back home, I’ve now noticed that the roads around here are also awash in garbage. The middle-class neighborhood where I live is litter-free, but as soon as I turn onto Rivermont Drive and head to town, the roadside ditches and patches of grass become a dumping ground for trash. Drivers either toss their refuse out the window or fail to secure it in their pickup trucks as they carry it to the county dump.
    Similarly, a friend of mine reports that at his older, working-class complex of apartments in Richmond, Virginia, some neighbors frequently open their car doors and dump trash into the parking lot. Others throw their MacDonald’s boxes and wrappers to the ground after eating, too lazy or too ignorant to carry them inside to a waste can.
    It seems it’s time to bring back the “Crying Indian.”
    The Crying Indian advertisement, one of the most effective ads ever to appear on television, depicted a Native American canoeing in polluted waters. Landing his canoe and stepping to the bank, he stands surrounded by trash, and turning his face to the camera, he sheds a single tear.
    “Some people have a deep, abiding respect for the natural beauty that was once this country. And some people don’t,” the ad said. “People start pollution. People can stop it.”
    Such a lesson is now forgotten, judging from Elizabeth Cogar’s Rappahannock Record article on the mounting litter problem. While government workers and volunteers do clean up roadside messes from time to time, picking up trash is only a temporary solution. Within days, the litter reappears.           
    Many places impose stiff fines for those caught littering, but catching these offenders, as one sheriff told Cogar, is virtually impossible. “That is a tough thing to do because most people are not going to toss anything out the window if they know a patrol car is close by.”           
    Cogar also spoke with Ben Lewis, a government official who supervises people convicted of misdemeanors and sentenced to perform community service by picking up trash. “The behavior [of the litterers] has to change,” Lewis said. “It’s a cultural thing. If you grow up seeing your parents throw trash out of the car and that’s what your family does, then you’re going to do it and your children will, too.”           
    I think Lewis just nailed the problem. So here’s a possible solution.           
    Suppose instead of teaching our students critical race theory—which divides them—we unite them behind an anti-litter campaign. School officials could put up anti-littering posters in the hallways. Teachers could offer reminders throughout the school year that pitching your trash into the streets and parks makes America ugly. Even better, once or twice a year, kids might spend an afternoon cleaning up the trash around their schools or in nearby parks. Once they understand the consequences of tossing that fast-food rubbish out the car window, they might bring that lesson home to their parents.
    Here's a program—inexpensive, simple, and with little burden on academics—that everyone could get behind.           
    In the early 1960s, television featured the “Susan Spotless” ads, in which an elementary-aged girl reminded those watching, that littering was shameful. She sang, “Please, please don’t be a litter bug, 'cause every litter bit hurts.” Like the Crying Indian, the Susan Spotless ads were effective, at least in my case, for that song has stayed in the storage unit of my head for over 50 years.           
    Years ago, New York City took to fighting crime by instituting the broken windows theory, the idea that visible signs of decay and junky neighborhoods increase crime. Ridding our streets of trash may not decrease crime, but it will boost the morale of citizens, restore our pride of place, and help make America beautiful again.
     
    Jeff Minick lives in Front Royal, Virginia, and may be found online at jeffminick.com. He is the author of two novels, Amanda Bell and Dust on Their Wings, and two works of non-fiction, Learning as I Go and Movies Make the Man.
    This article was republished with permission from IntellectualTakeout.com
  18. Guest Writers
    The Implications of Declining Population
    In the State of New York (and particularly upstate), over a million and a half residents migrated to other states in the last decade (8% of the state’s population – barely offset by birth and foreign immigration rates). In 2018, as NYS led the nation in this “population outflow”, Governor Andrew Cuomo denied claims that a failing economy due to poor government leadership could be responsible for the decline. Instead, he blamed the weather.
    “Somebody wants to move to Florida because they want to move to Florida.
    God bless them. They want to fish. They want warm weather."
    Pundits found that premise questionable at best. As many academics and analysts noted: Since we’ve seen net “population inflow” in several cold states like Washington, Maine, Montana, New Hampshire, and Minnesota.... “warm weather” can’t be the only reason Florida and Texas have seen “inflows”.
    There is a direct correlation between population growth and economic prosperity, and New York State has seen a decline in both over the last decade.
    Chemung County’s population drain has been longer and bigger than NYS’s exodus. From the peak of 101,000 residents in the 1970 census, we have lost over 17% of our county population.
    The History We’ve Heard About
    Like Cuomo pointing to Florida’s balmy temperatures, the weather has been unfairly scapegoated for local “population outflow”.
    It’s been repeatedly stated by local leaders over the years that the primary factor in Chemung County’s decline was the devastating flood that Hurricane Agnes hurled upon us in June of 1972. We’ve been told for nearly 50 years that Agnes’s destruction was simply too much to overcome.
    It’s unmistakable that Chemung County enjoyed over a century of growth prior to the 1972 flood and encountered a sharp downturn in population from that time forward. The economic prosperity that fosters population growth didn’t rebound after that event.
     

    With this timeline in mind, the theory that “Agnes was our downfall” seemed plausible and has been widely accepted by most people in the area.
    The Contrasts That Have Been Overlooked
    Similar to Cuomo’s “cold weather” excuse overlooking population growth in other cold climate states, the pretext that Agnes is to blame for all our woes neglects to explain why other counties devastated by Agnes managed to recover, but not Chemung County.
    Residents and businesses didn’t flee Steuben County after the destruction of Hurricane Agnes, and since 2010 Steuben’s population decreased by just 6% compared to Chemung County’s 17% plummet. Meanwhile, the populations in Schuyler and Tioga Counties (also struck hard by Agnes) have increased by 6% and 4% respectively.

    It’s worth mentioning that decades before Agnes, another record-breaking flood in 1946 laid waste to Chemung County, and the economy continued to boom afterward. Chemung County was able to recover and realize its sharpest population growth ever – with a 38% increase from 1940 to 1970.
    So, if Agnes isn’t at fault for our state of affairs....then what else occurred during the 1970s that could have hindered Chemung County’s growth?
    The Parallel Event That Shaped Chemung County’s Circumstances
    There is one change to Chemung County’s circumstances that the county did not face during its recovery from the 1946 flood: abolishing the established government structure that had resolved county issues for over a century (Board of Supervisors) and replacing it with a “new” and more politically motivated governing body in a 1973 Charter proposal.
    That change didn’t have much voter support at all. It was defeated by public vote in 1972 and when four different reapportionment and charter proposals were placed on the ballot in November 1973, the current 15-member Legislature and elected Executive options was finally approved by just over 8,000 votes (less than 20% of voters – with a margin of under 1,000 votes).

    As we approach the 50th anniversary of Hurricane Agnes.....it’s worth considering whether the transformation of local government may have done harm to Chemung County’s fate that has lingered decades after the flooding.
    The Value of The Board of Supervisors
    What impact did the (largely unpopular) shift in County Government have on the “Efficiency of County Government Operations”?
    As the people charged with everyday issues and challenges of their individual municipalities, members of the Board of Supervisors had solid roots and commitment to their individual communities. They had the qualification of understanding what services and needs their Town spends its resources on.....and where those resources come from.
    Whether it was one of our communities with a local police department or public water and streetlights or a community that’s home to retail, agriculture, or industrial enterprises. The people tasked with (and have the most understanding of) weighing the priorities of each municipality within the county are those who comprised the Board of Supervisors.
    The adopted County Charter that abolished the Board of Supervisors and established a separate Legislature created a new layer of bureaucracy, disconnected from the Supervisors who fully realize the needs of their communities. The adopted Charter goes so far as to prohibit municipal officials from the “new” bureaucratic arrangement.
    “No mayors of cities or villages, supervisors of towns, or members of the legislative body of cities, towns or villages who reside in the County shall be eligible to be elected as members of the County Legislative body.”
    Legislators can only grasp the needs of individual municipalities by getting second-hand input. Aside from being time-consuming and inefficient...that information is usually degraded as it passes through multiple channels.
    In order to examine the impact County actions have on various city, town and village concerns, legislators can either consult the very Supervisors who are excluded from serving on the body....or (as is increasingly common) commission a “study” from a third party. The latter option adds expense to taxpayers (as if the $1 million added expenses of legislature pay and benefits isn’t punitive enough)....for information that the Supervisors already manage and fully comprehend.
    Whether it’s New York State or Chemung County, it’s dishonest to blame the weather for the steady departure of residents. There’s a high probability that if Chemung County had kept its Board of Supervisors, it would have recovered (like other counties did) from the damage Agnes caused. And it’s fair to ask if returning to that structure (or otherwise modifying the current legislative structure) could finally right the ship
    Opportunities To Remedy Ineffective Government Operations
    So....how does a change back to a more efficient county government happen?
    In recent years, the Legislature has reviewed the “merit” of several of (its own) policies that benefit its members. Not surprisingly....the body (often steered by committees with members vocally opposing changes) has a pattern of concluding that “self-preservation” of the Legislature is best for their constituents.
    2019 “Legislature Compensation & Benefits Review Committee”: Over some objections, the decision was made to continue their 16k+ per year salaries and full health plan participation for their parttime (well under 20 hours/wk) duties
    2020 “Term Limit Advisory Committee”: a panel (chosen by a Chair who is a career politician, serving his third term and  vocally opposed to term limits) determined that the county is best served by allowing legislators to have an unlimited number of terms.
    2021/22 “Legislative Redistricting & Efficiency of County Government Operations Advisory Committee”: From the beginning, this committee has pointedly avoided the question (cited as one of their points to consider) of balancing the number of legislative districts to the declining population (which would result in some number of “their” legislative seats being removed).
    Action That Citizens Can Take
    So if self-interest and preservation are clearly prevalent when these matters are left to the Legislative body....how can the electorate compel the Legislature to address transformational propositions that the body is averse to confronting on its own?
    Petition for a referendum on amending the Charter. We have seen pleas from dozens of citizens speak on these topics, often fall on deaf ears. Regardless of whether any members are inclined to support the reforms, it’s clear that the Legislature (at the behest of the Chair) is under no compulsion to comply with requests received from constituents, either by letter or public comment.
    However, the body is required to take action when properly petitioned.
    As outlined by the Department of State “Adopting and Amending County Charters”, the New York State Municipal Home Rule Law does provide a process for voters to bring about reform.
    “A proposed charter or proposed revision of an existing charter may be prepared by or under the auspices of the county’s governing body directly or by a specifically appointed charter commission. The charter drafting process may be initiated by the governing body itself or by voter petition and referendum.”
    *****
    Voter initiative. Under a procedure set forth in section 33 of the Municipal Home Rule Law, the voters of a county may petition the county legislative body to establish and appoint a charter commission. The petition calling for the creation of the charter commission must be signed by qualified voters equal in number to at least 10 percent of the votes cast in the county for Governor in the last gubernatorial election.
    In response to such a petition, the legislative body may create and appoint a charter commission on its own motion. Otherwise, the county legislative body is required by law to submit to a referendum the question of whether a charter commission should be established and appointed. If a majority of the votes cast on the question are in favor of the proposition, the legislative body must create a commission and appoint its members within two months following voter approval.”
    A petition signed by ten percent of the 30-40,000 Chemung County voters who typically participate in the general elections seems like a high bar but is by no means insurmountable. If voters want a choice in how the county government operates, initiating a Charter Amendment is an attainable prospect; it works out to roughly 200-300 signatures for each of our 15 legislative districts.
    This could be accomplished by three dozen advocates each gathering signatures from 100 registered voters and would require the Legislature to offer a public referendum to amend the charter....which the Legislature has been averse to presenting on their own accord.
    Kathleen Reed is a Town of Catlin resident.
  19. Guest Writers
    There’s been commentary from some officials and 2022 candidates regarding the current redistricting that the County Charter tasks the Legislature with after each census. With some time browsing the County website, one can piece together minutes, videos and audio recordings located on various pages. In the interest of discerning fact from opinions, I encourage everyone to make the effort. Those records provide a revealing glimpse at conduct and sentiments of some local officials.
    To address the mandate to “reconsider its representation, and, if necessary, redraw legislative district boundaries”, the Legislature seated “The Legislative Redistricting and Efficiency of County Government Operations Advisory Committee” in early 2021.
    The original proposal for a $48,000 study from the Center for Governmental Research (CGR) was scrapped after the County Executive and Treasurer advised it wasn’t authorized in the 2021 budget.
    What was the Legislature’s reaction to this news from its counterparts in other branches of government? Under the guise of “Efficiency of County Government Operations”, discussion turned to matters far outside the realm of “redrawing legislative district boundaries”. Namely the notion of abolishing the offices of County Executive and Treasurer.
    The Executive’s misgivings on contracting with CGR were well founded. Their presentation to the committee during the first meeting indicated that their efforts would be dedicated to crafting a report to suit the Committee’s agenda. Not only was transparency in question, CGR assured secrecy. They promised that any findings that the Committee didn’t like would be hidden from the public:
    Once Census data became available in December, another group (from SUNY New Paltz) was brought in. Their presentation January 14th was professional and encouraging.
    Joshua Simon objectively outlined legal requirements and changes in election law. He advised ranking priorities that fall outside legal parameters to generate multiple map choices. He also stressed the importance of public involvement throughout the process, recommending multiple public presentations and input/listening sessions before Public Hearing on the final proposal. In his experience, he noted, transparency and partnership greatly increase the likelihood of a mandatory referendum passing.
    Some in attendance were receptive to his advice of seeking public input. However, some louder voices have been dismissive of the idea during the entire process.
    Those louder voices may prevail, but I’d like to offer input anyway, as a member of the public that Mr. Simon encouraged involvement from.
    First, abandon the idea of eliminating other elected branches. Countywide officials are elected by considerably more voters than any of the 15 legislators in individual districts.
    Installing appointed staff, serving at the Legislature’s behest, erodes the power balance on which democratic representation is built. And offers no savings to taxpayers; qualified appointees would receive compensation comparable to current elected officials.
    This is not the first time the Legislative body has sought to eliminate the elected Executive & Treasurer positions. The very first Legislative term passed a resolution in 1977 to do the same thing....and that Charter Amendment was defeated by voters in the mandatory referendum.
    Secondly, seek public participation at every stage in the process. A handful of legislators on one committee taking it upon themselves to define priorities for 84,000 constituents is presumptuous.
    The last half-century shows voters have repeatedly rejected Charter Amendments for redistricting and restructuring county government. When the Legislature provides final proposals that don’t reflect constituents’ priorities and wishes, they must start over next year – expending more time and taxpayer resources. After the 1990 Census, voters rejected redistricting plans in 1992 and again in 1993 before finally approving the plan presented in 1994.
    Current legislators should consider why such attempts by their predecessors have failed, and rather than blithely skipping down the same path, strive to do better. Otherwise, legislators will face voter rejection again when offering yet another ballot proposal that ignores constituents’ voices.
     
    Kathleen Reed is a Town of Catlin resident.
    "Guest View" is a column written by readers from the Southern Tier. For information on how to submit something for a Guest View column, email us at twintiersliving@gmail.com
  20. Guest Writers
    A friend of mine decided to shake the dust of the cities off his feet last year and migrate to a more rural area. Reflecting on the move, he seemed surprised at how much he was enjoying the change. My takeaway from our conversation was that his life was fresh and new now that he has left the problems of the city. Having a community of reasonable people to live amongst wasn’t so bad either.
    My friend isn’t the only one who made such a change in the last year or so; Minnesota Public Radio highlighted the trend in a recent story entitled, “Ready for a change: Couples go all in on small-town life.” The article describes how James and Katrina Ball uprooted their children from the Cayman Islands to settle in the small Minnesotan town of Battle Lake at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic so they could be near Katrina’s parents. Not intending to stay for the long haul, they still find themselves living there—and not only surviving but thriving in their new community.
    While it once was the norm for small communities to empty out as their young people moved to the cities for bigger opportunities, it seems a reverse flight is beginning to take place—slowly, perhaps, but definite nonetheless. While some may see this as regression, it is actually progress, for a return to the rural, local community will eventually bring restored freedom and virtue to America’s citizens.
    Those who move say they love the connected feeling that a small community brings. Mentioning a fall festival that Katrina helped organize, the Balls expressed their surprise at how helpful and participatory everyone was.
    In other words, the couple appreciate the freedom, support, tight-knit nature, and comfort of life in a small town. And while the Balls likely don’t realize it, it is these very things that are the roots of a healthy society.
    Robert Nisbet noted this in his classic work, Quest for Community. “The family, religious association, and local community,” wrote Nisbet, “these, the conservatives insisted, cannot be regarded as the external products of man’s thought and behavior; they are essentially prior to the individual and are the indispensable supports of belief and conduct.” When such supports are gone, we shouldn’t be surprised to see individuals believe only in their own truth and behave in any depraved way that they choose. Nisbet elaborates:
    Americans are lost, lonely, and adrift. Almost all of us can sense that without even looking at statistics.
    But is it possible such a problem could be reversed by more Americans fleeing the cities and settling down in small communities? Here, people can’t blend into the background as much; they are a name instead of a faceless being, carried along with the crowd of good, upright folks striving to follow God, work hard, raise their family right, and support those around them with care and encouragement.
    America won’t survive without turning away from the rootless and toward the rooted. If we’re serious about helping that about-face happen, perhaps it’s time to find a small community, settle down, and start the process of becoming more than a lonely automaton in a massive urban arena.
    Annie Holmquist is the editor of Intellectual Takeout. When not writing or editing, she enjoys reading, gardening, and time with family and friends.This article was re[ublished with permission from IntellectualTakeout.org
  21. Guest Writers
    Reading through online headlines I often see a story entitled, “Demi Moore at 58 Hasn’t Aged Well.” Though I’ve never clicked on that link, I did google “Demi Moore at 58” and thought she looked pretty darn good. Sure, she’s probably gone under the plastic surgeon’s knife a few times—those high cheek bones seem a dead giveaway—but most online comments about her are complimentary, telling us she’s still a physical beauty in her sixth decade.         
    But who cares? Go to any Walmart or grocery store and you’ll see platoons of people who haven’t “aged well.” Unable to walk, some of the elderly ride through the store aisles in motorized carts. Others teeter along, clinging to their shopping buggies for balance as they hunt for coffee, soup, and ground beef. Some older folks even work in these establishments, bagging groceries and pushing carts from the parking lot back to the store.         
    By our societal standards of youth and beauty, none of them has “aged well.” Nor have I, for that matter. Compare me to the guy I was at 35, half my current age, and you’ll find in the former a solid oak and in the latter a weather-beaten, time-gnarled old tree. But hidden behind those gray hairs, barnacles, and wrinkled faces are gifts that younger people ignore at their peril.
    Many of the cognitive elderly are walking, breathing libraries, flesh-and-blood encyclopedias of knowledge and wisdom. They remember when racism was real in America, not some theory concocted by academics. They recollect the days when the Vietnam War divided Americans, when fights broke out over gasoline in the long lines at service stations in the 1970s, when the Iranians held Americans hostage during the Carter administration.         
    Even more importantly, these old people have witnessed the heartaches and hardships brought by death, divorce, broken relationships with family and friends, debt and bankruptcy. And with any luck, they have also waltzed with love, joy, and laughter, and do so even today.         
    In having trekked through some 25,000 days, a good number of these men and women have acquired wisdom. They know that what so many regard as crises—failure to gain acceptance at a certain college, a broken engagement, the loss of a job—are just small-arms fire on the battlefield of life. They recognize that the little things, like the hug of a grandchild or a pat on the shoulder from a friend, count for a lot. They have reached an age where they understand that people matter more than money, that character and a good name are worth more than mansions and gold, and that gratitude is the grace that keeps on giving.
    And if you talk to some of these wise folks, you may well find in them this description taken from the film Secondhand Lions: “A man’s body may grow old, but his spirit can still be as young and as restless as ever.”
    So much of the time, however, no one seeks out or listens to that spirit. I keep a 1988 “Peanuts” cartoon beneath glass on my desk, featuring Charlie Brown and Linus playing in the snow. “Yesterday was my Grandpa’s birthday,” says Charlie Brown. “I asked him what the most important thing was that he learned in life…” Charlie pauses, then adds, “He said, ‘I’ve learned that even when people ask me that question, they aren’t going to listen.’”
    One of my great regrets is that in my younger years I failed even to ask such questions. What, for example, did my beloved Grandma Helen count as success? What did she love—and she loved him deeply—about my grandfather, who died when I was a boy? What was the secret to their happy marriage? But she passed on more than 30 years ago, and I’ll never learn the answers to such questions.
    So, a bit of advice to any younger people reading this column: My regrets need not be yours. Open up the living books that surround you before time closes them forever. Ask questions. That 75-year-old aunt who sits so quietly at family gatherings might just be a treasure house of stories and insights.
    Who knows? Her words might even change your life.
    Jeff Minick lives in Front Royal, Virginia, and may be found online at jeffminick.com. He is the author of two novels, Amanda Bell and Dust on Their Wings, and two works of non-fiction, Learning as I Go and Movies Make the Man.
    This column was republished with permission from IntellectualTakeout.org
  22. Guest Writers
    by Jeff Minick
     
    “All aboard!”           
    North Carolina writer Anna Raglan was delighted to find that Amtrak’s conductors still called out these words to passengers before departing the station. In her new travelogue The Train From Greenville, Raglan, a kind and wise friend of mine, describes a journey she made by rail from Greenville, South Carolina, to Seattle and back again.
    A wife, mother, and professional in her mid-50s, Raglan was apprehensive about the trip. She packed and repacked her luggage, had a friend help her make the reservation by phone, and nervously kept an eye on her luggage while onboard.         
    Raglan takes her readers along with her on her way across the country and shows them the pleasures of train travel, which include the opportunity to see the American landscape and to meet people from all around the country.           
    The Train From Greenville is a good book, wise in its observations of Raglan’s railway companions, accepting of their eccentricities, and gentle in tone, but that’s not why I am writing about it here. No—what deserves a deeper look is the sadness of this book, a sorrow entirely unintended by the author.           
    You see, though The Train From Greenville is newly published, Raglan made her trip in 2011. That time, and the people she describes, seem to have lived not just a decade ago, but a century. It is startling looking back at who we once were.     
    On that train were blacks and whites, Hispanics, Asians, and at least one Native American. Raglan spent a good bit of time with a tattooed man who loves drag racing and the music of Bruce Springsteen. Eventually, he told her a harrowing story about how he killed a man who had tried to assault him in self-defense. She conversed with a Native American hired by Amtrak to share stories of Indians and the West with the passengers. Her seat companions ranged from a female veteran of these trips to a quiet young man wearing dreadlocks.           
    And though Raglan overheard a few political conversations, nowhere on her train do we encounter the acrimony so commonly found today in our mainstream media. Black Lives Matter, Critical Race Theory, the savage political assaults on presidents and politicians, and the laments over America’s faults: not a word. And of course, the COVID pandemic with its fearmongering, lockdowns, masks, and mandates were not even a whisper in the wind back in 2011.           
    No, these trains, the beauty of the country they rolled through, and the Americans who rode them represent what America was about back then, a people united in purpose—in this case, getting to a destination—and helping one another along the way. Again and again we see these men and women offering assistance to their fellow travelers, helping a blind woman find a seat, sharing food and treats, and making certain not to crowd the person seated beside them. Other than a nervous, easily angered woman Raglan refers to as Birdie, and a man upset by a delay in the timetable, these people displayed those traits foreigners have long thought of as American: optimism, cheerfulness, and a can-do attitude with lots of smiles.           
    Above I mentioned the miserable contrast between now and 10 years ago. But as I reflect on the matter, I also see The Train From Greenville as a sign of hope and rejuvenation, a reminder of who we were and who we are. Surely all of us know friends, family, and neighbors like those on the train, good-hearted people who looked out for one another and who have carried on through these last two miserable years.           
    We are a people who were born in a revolution, fought a civil war, who helped to save the world from fascism and communism, and who, despite our flaws, have made enormous changes throughout our history, looking for justice and liberty for all. The fearmongering of the current pandemic, the heavy-handed efforts by government to order us about and so diminish our liberties, the insane spending by Congress, the foreign policy failures: these have damaged the American spirit, but they cannot kill it—unless we throw in the towel out of despair.           
    One chapter of The Train From Greenville is titled “We Are Here Together.” Let’s make those words one of our banners. Let’s turn our backs on those contemptible people working so hard to divide us and remember we are all Americans.
    Jeff Minick lives in Front Royal, Virginia, and may be found online at jeffminick.com. He is the author of two novels, Amanda Bell and Dust on Their Wings, and two works of non-fiction, Learning as I Go and Movies Make the Man.
    This column was republished with permission from IntellectualTakeout.org
  23. Guest Writers
    As a mental health counselor, I am witnessing an emotional ass-beating unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed before.  People are coming into my office defeated, exhausted and some, barely able to function.  Others are restless, uneasy, walking out of jobs and even marriages without a second thought.   Some are fleeing, making big moves, a futile attempt to escape themselves.  Some are consumed with rage, guilt and shame.  Prior to COVID, it wasn’t unusual to have parallels between my story and the stories I have the honor of holding space for, but I wasn’t in my client’s battles.  Now, I feel as though I am experiencing this ass-beating right along with them.
    I have days when I can hardly function, finding myself grateful for an unexpected cancellation so I can curl up on my couch and take a nap.  A couple weeks ago, I told my husband I was ready to move.   It was a toss-up between New Hampshire or the Netherlands, I’ve never even been to the Netherlands.   The slightest inconvenience, my child being sick, feels like a monumental stressor.  There is the emotional weight of worry, what if they have COVID?  What if I get COVID?  And then there are the moving pieces, where can we go to get tested?  How long will it take?  How am I going to navigate remote schooling while trying to conduct virtual sessions?  It would be one thing if this happened every so often, but we are less than a month into school and we have had two weeks with way too many moving pieces. And then there is the guilt and shame that immediately follows as I can’t help but think, others have it so much worse and as a counselor, I should know best how to navigate this season we are in.  A week ago, I found myself in my primary care doctor’s office in tears, my chest hurt so bad I wasn’t sure if I was having a panic attack or a heart attack.  The diagnosis from my doctor was that I am human and have stress.
    In a recent article in the Washington Post by Amy Cuddy and JillEllyn Riley, they coined the term, “Pandemic Flux Syndrome” to describe what people are experiencing nearly 18 months into this collective trauma.   The article resonated deeply with me and gave words to my experience and what I am bearing witness to with those I see.  The article goes on to explain reasons we are feeling this way, “for many people, our brains and bodies are simply fatigued, and recalibrating to the new circumstances is too much to bear.”  They refer to the concept of ‘surge capacity,’ which you can read about in an interview with psychologist Ann Masten and science journalist Tara Haelle.  In the healthcare field, surge capacity refers to the ability to manage and care for a significant increase in volume of patients.  Outside the healthcare field, it refers essentially to our capacity to draw upon our internal resources to manage a crisis.  A crisis or trauma spanning the course of a year and a half, takes a toll.
    Brene Brown recently did an interview with Amy Cuddy discussing this concept further.  Many of us were hopeful over the summer, we felt the end was in sight, we could see the light at the end of the tunnel.  And then, it was as though someone flipped the switch on us.  Some of us are hyper focused on whom they perceive has turned off that light.  Lines are being drawn and we are taking our beaten emotional minds and body into battle with others, sometimes with our own family and friends. I believe we have a hard time accepting what we cannot understand and for many, this seems impossible to comprehend so we cope by lashing out, by trying to find the why, the seemingly elusive solution.
    So, what can we do?  How can we cope with this emotional ass-beating? I have a few thoughts I would like to offer.  First, we need a ‘what the flux friend’ or better yet, ‘what the flux friends.’   We need someone who can hold space for us to express how we feel, whether that is rage, anxiety, sadness, grief or shame.  Connecting with someone we can be open and honest with can help us heal our bruised minds, we need someone to encourage us to return to battle.  We also need to know we are not alone and hopefully in reading this and other articles, you realize you are most definitely, not alone.
     
    We need to move and not out of state.  Most self-help articles around caring for our mental health during the pandemic mention the importance of exercise as a form of movement, along with eating healthy, staying hydrated and getting enough sleep.  Moving our bodies can serve multiple purposes though.  When I can, I go for walks with my clients.  The cooler fall weather is perfect for being outside and the changing color of the leaves offers a beautiful backdrop.  One of my clients recently said, ‘I like walking when we are talking about hard things.’  Movement, whether that is walking, running, hiking or dancing, can help us not only to feel physically better, but can also serve as an outlet to our emotional experiences.   There is a saying, ‘emotions need motion.’  If we don’t tend to the thoughts and feelings arising within us, they will not dissipate on their own.  To prevent an external or internal eruption of these emotions, it is best if we can acknowledge and tend to them with compassion and intention.  The other day, my 8 y/o daughter lathered soap on her hands and arms, she told me the soap represented her ‘worry thoughts.’   My daughter then turned on the water and scrubbed her hands and arms vigorously, effectively ‘washing away’ those painful thoughts.  We all need to find a way to release and wash away what comes up for us throughout our day.
    Create, get outside, meditate, spend less time doing and more time being.  I believe whole-heartedly in this quote by Rumi: “We carry inside us the wonders we seek outside us.”  I truly believe what we need is within, we must quiet the noise to be able to access that wisdom and right now, there is a lot of noise.  We need to create quiet pockets of time, even if that is just a couple minutes a day where we can take a couple breaths, tune into how we are feeling in our bodies, minds and hearts and just let that be.  Notice what is coming up from a space of compassion and tend to those emotions arising, maybe you are feeling overwhelming anxiety and you need a couple breaths to create more internal space.  Maybe you need a good cry or maybe you haven’t had anything to eat or drink.  Maybe you need to step outside and feel the fresh air on your skin, maybe you need to turn off the News for a while.  I know it can be hard in a society where we are constantly on the go, but now perhaps more than ever we need to pause, breathe and just be.
    Be Kind.  It’s truly that simple.  Yesterday, I was waiting in a long line at a store, a trip that was supposed to be a quick ‘in and out.’  I had ice cream in the car and it was an unusually warmer Fall day.  I could feel the heat rising in my face and tension throughout my body, why is there only one person working?  What is taking so long?   I was so consumed by my own gunk that I didn’t notice the man in front of me.
    “You have the most beautiful mask,” he said sincerely.
    I snapped out of my anger trance.  Such a simple statement and suddenly, the anger and irritation I felt melted away, kind of like the ice cream most likely was in my car.  With kind words, we can bring people into the moment, we can extend our light and illuminate their light through a compliment or just a simple gesture that communicates, ‘I see you.’  If we could all be more intentional about extending random acts of kindness, I think we would all feel a little less fluxed.
    I want to end by pausing and creating a space to acknowledge and honor the lives we have lost, those left behind and those living with long-term effects of COVID-19.  We are all living in the midst of this collective trauma and I believe we are all connected by a collective experience of grief as well. Even if we haven’t lost someone we love, we likely know someone who has.  And while some of what I have written is in jest, I know there are those experiencing waves of anxiety and depression and others who feel like they are drowning.  If you feel this way, there is help and support:
    SAMHSA’s National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
    National Domestic Violence Hotline
    Psychology Today, Find a Therapist
    For residents of NYS:  NY Project Hope
    If you are in crisis, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255
    Renae Carapella-Johnson is a licensed mental health counselor and owner of Ray Of Light Counseling & Consulting in Savona NY. 
     
  24. Guest Writers
    by Nicole Carr - ProPublica 
    My second grader’s almond-shaped brown eyes widened over the doubled-up N95 and cloth masks I’d instructed her and her older sister to wear that day. There, in the foyer of her school, stood her unmasked principal, greeting the hundreds of families who were flocking to a July 29 open house.
    We passed by the front office staff, also mostly unmasked. In the crowds we observed, there were as many unmasked parents and children as masked ones.
    Families bumped into each other in hallways as they searched for classrooms. They lined up in the cafeteria to sign up for PTA and extracurricular activities. The cafeteria, we were told, would be back to full capacity the following Monday, the first day of school in Cobb County, Georgia. Unlike last school year, when my girls had attended virtually, there would be no more social distancing when it came time to eat.
    We found my younger daughter’s classroom. The maskless homeroom teacher presented a slideshow of her family’s summer adventures. Her classroom partner, a Spanish-language teacher who was paired with her as part of the school’s dual-language immersion program, donned a mask that matched her outfit.
    “Will you be masked while teaching?” asked a masked parent from the back of the crowded classroom.
    “I will not,” the homeroom teacher answered, emphasizing the “not.”
    “I will,” her Spanish-language teaching partner answered.
    A few miles away, at about the same time the doors to the open house swung open, Dr. Janet Memark, director of public health for Cobb and Douglas counties, sat down in a conference room to record a somber update.
    “We are up to 235 cases per 100,000 since last night” for new infections over a two-week period, Memark said, delivering a message for community channels, news outlets and YouTube.
    “So that has blown us past high transmission,” she said.
    “And I heard today our numbers are looking even worse.”
    Back in early May, when my family had to decide whether to send our daughters to their suburban Atlanta school for face-to-face learning in the upcoming school year, I was comfortable with the decision to let them go back. The coronavirus caseload in Cobb County at the time was low. Plus, the school had a mask mandate.
    By the time of the open house, neither was true. Cobb County reversed course on its mask mandate in June and refused to budge even after the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, whose headquarters is two counties over, on July 27 recommended masking for all K-12 students and teachers,even vaccinated ones.
    Three days before the open house, we had requested to change our decision and return to virtual learning. The superintendent’s office denied our request. Too late, it said.
    Cobb County Schools, the second largest school district in Georgia and among the first major metro districts nationwide to reopen for the 2021-22 school year, is one of only two of the eight districts in metro Atlanta’s five-county region without a mask mandate. The other is the city school system in Cobb’s county seat, Marietta, which operates as its own district and which ProPublica wrote about last year for its then-rare decision, among Georgia districts, to require masks.
    “It’s disappointing that the districts are not implementing the strategies recommended by the CDC to keep these kids safe when there is moderate to high transmission,” said Elizabeth Stuart, a biostatistician at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, in reference to the metro Atlanta school districts that are not requiring masks. “It puts families into these really challenging situations.”
    The school districts weren’t even heeding the warning of their county’s own public health director: “My best advice is that you go with the CDC recommendations. They are that everybody in K through 12 need to wear their mask,” Memark implored those watching her July 29 recording.
    Asked why Cobb County Schools deviated from the CDC and its own county’s public health director on a mask mandate, a district spokesperson would only respond that its public health protocols “are intended to balance the importance of in-person learning and the frequent changes associated with COVID-19. This pandemic continues to impact students, staff, and families differently throughout Cobb County, and we will continue to update our school protocols accordingly.”
    When I walked into that open house, I reminded myself of my husband’s words from earlier that morning: “Have an open mind.” When I walked out, I knew there was nothing that would make me feel safe sending my girls to school on Monday.
    The car ride home from the open house was filled with excited back-to-school banter between the girls and my husband. I was silent, waiting for him to pull into the driveway and drop me off so he could take the kids for Happy Meals. He and I had planned to talk that night, after the girls and our toddler son went to bed. But I wasn’t sure I could wait that long.
    I ignored the knot in my stomach and focused on figuring out Plan B.
    Our immediate alternatives were private school (though we could scarcely afford it, and admissions had closed for most of them), home schooling (but what about our jobs?) or moving to another district (if we could find a house in this manic real estate market).
    Waiting for my husband to come back from lunch, I threw up a prayer and tried to secure one more last-ditch option. I entered our daughters into a lottery for a virtual-only charter school that had just opened a few hundred additional slots statewide. It was the only free, accredited and teacher-led virtual alternative at the time.
    Within five minutes, I received a response: They both got in.
    When my husband got back, I intercepted him in the garage and sent the kids upstairs. 
    “Can we have a pre-meeting?” I begged, then launched right into it: “I don’t like what I saw at the school.”
    He was less bothered by what he’d observed than by our girls forgoing another year of in-person learning, arguing that he hadn’t yet seen data to convince him they needed any more protection than their own masks. Besides, he said, if it got bad enough, wouldn’t the school have to go back to virtual learning, anyway?
    I countered that the data we were reviewing was based on current behavior, noting that the transmission and hospitalization rates were rising before the kids even packed into the buildings.
    That afternoon, between calls to my daughters’ pediatrician and their elementary school to get records that the virtual charter needed, I forwarded the virtual school information to other concerned parents. At least one of them tried to get in, two and a half hours after my attempt. It didn’t work: She was stuck on a waitlist.
    The next morning, still locked in a stalemate with my husband, I stopped by the pediatrician’s office to pick up the immunization records I needed. “Am I the only one doing this?” I asked the receptionist.
    “No, ma’am, you’re not alone,” she said, holding up a folder full of vaccine records awaiting other parents who’d changed course.
    I then went to the elementary school to pick up my daughters’ report cards and un-enroll them. A staff member wrote their names alongside those of more than a dozen students who would not be showing up on the first day of school.
    Later, I reached out to Cobb County Schools and other districts to determine how many parents had withdrawn their children in recent weeks. Most districts, including Cobb, said it was not a request they could immediately fulfill.
    While I was out trying to handle the new school enrollment, my husband called to apologize. He thanked me for executing a new plan at a time when he was consumed with disappointment for the kids. He just wanted them to be happy, he said, and didn’t want them to feel defeated by the news of another year of virtual learning.
    On Sunday, Aug. 1, the day before the first day of school, I wrote an email to Cobb County School District Superintendent Chris Ragsdale, Assistant Superintendent Ehsan Kattoula and the county school board, to let them know we were leaving the county school system for now. I noted that, as difficult as this process had been for us, I couldn’t imagine what other families in tougher spots with fewer resources must be facing.
    School board member Charisse Davis, one of three members of the Democratic minority on the Cobb County School Board, wrote back: “With school starting tomorrow, we are hearing from so many parents who are flat out scared about what is going to happen. I have no answers as to why we are rejecting the public health guidelines.” She added, “It almost feels like the last 18 months didn’t happen. We are just back to normal because of what? Denial, fatigue, politics?”
    Several parents I spoke with while reporting this story expressed skepticism that COVID-19 could harm them. “We go out to eat. We go to the grocery store. We’ve traveled all summer long,” said Ashley Gentile, a West Cobb mother of two elementary school students. She said that any member of her family could have gotten the virus anywhere, but none had. “For our family, it’s not alarming when we hear numbers have risen in certain schools and certain areas. It doesn’t make us want to keep our kids home.”
    Sharon Abney, Gentile’s sister, who lives in East Cobb and is a physical therapist, said the data isn’t concerning to her.
    “The kids, yeah, they’re gonna get it, but they’re probably going to be asymptomatic or have a really mild case,” she said. “There are people in our community who believe that because we’re choosing not to send our kids in a mask, we’re killing them. And that’s not what’s happening.”
    The same day I sent my email to the district, screengrabs of a message to parents at Cobb County’s King Springs Elementary School, near my daughters’ now-former school, began circulating on social media and in my parent text groups. The message concerned the school’s open house three days earlier. Up top it said in bold red: “Covid-19 Low Risk Letter.”
    “Good Evening Everyone,” it read. “We are super excited to get this school year started! Following our wonderful Sneak A Peek on Thursday, we’ve been notified that several families have positive cases of Covid and attended our event. Since this was a fluid event with people mingling throughout the building, we thought it best to send a low risk letter to all families.”
    The alert prompted Cobb County school board member Dr. Jaha Howard to request, the day before school started, an emergency meeting for the board to consider the repercussions of the district's COVID-19 protocols when it came to keeping students safe.
    Howard, a pediatric dentist whose three children attend Cobb schools, said he had spoken with dozens of parents who expressed a broad spectrum of opinions on masking in the classroom.
    “You have a good number of parents who fundamentally would like to see less people getting infected and less people getting into the hospital, and they’re willing to do what needs to be done so that people don’t get sick,” Howard told me. “You have another group in this county and in this country that fundamentally believe that this virus has to run its course. And they’re not saying it out loud, but what I’m hearing between the lines is: ‘People are going to get sick. Some people are going to have to go to the hospital. Some people might tragically pass, but the best way through it is to literally allow it to take its course.’”
    Howard had made previous unsuccessful attempts to get the school board to meet about COVID-19 protocol, including a meeting he tried to call between the board and Cobb’s public health director in June.
    Like those previous appeals, his Aug. 1 request also was denied. Board Chair Randy Scramihorn did not respond to a request for comment. 
    The board’s most publicized agenda item in recent months, which came to a vote in June, had nothing to do with the pandemic. Rather, the board voted to ban critical race theory from its curriculum.
    On Aug. 4, the third day of school, Cobb County Schools emailed parents to let them know the district had updated its COVID-19 protocols. One change was that masks, though still optional, were now “strongly encouraged.”
    A more significant change had to do with quarantining. The district’s new protocol allowed asymptomatic students and staff who’d been in close contact with a person who’d tested positive to return to school the next day, as long as they agreed to wear a mask for 10 days. The previous protocol was to follow CDC and Georgia Department of Public Health quarantine guidelines, which call for asymptomatic unvaccinated people to isolate at home for between seven and 14 days following a close contact with a coronavirus-infected person.
    Not only is Cobb County one of two districts to fail to adopt a mask mandate among the eight in metro Atlanta, but, as of Aug. 4, Cobb has a far more lenient quarantine protocol, too.
    Asked what precipitated the change, a Cobb County Schools spokesperson pointed to an Aug. 2 order signed by DPH Commissioner Dr. Kathleen Toomey, which states: “Following guidance from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention on quarantine remains the safest way to protect teachers and students from the spread of COVID-19. However, recognizing the importance of in-person learning, schools may elect to adhere to different quarantine requirements as developed by the local school district to facilitate in-person learning.”
    Yet the order clarifies that schools should adopt “such different quarantine requirements as long as the point of exposure occurred in the school setting” and as long as those exposed remain asymptomatic.
    Cobb County Schools did not directly address ProPublica’s questions about how the district would distinguish point of contact or if there was a threshold at which it would adopt a mask mandate.
    Over a 12-day period between my children’s school open house and Aug. 9, the second Monday of school, Cobb County and much of the rest of Georgia and the South saw rapid growth in coronavirus infections. In Cobb, cases per 100,000 nearly doubled in that time and the positivity rate went up, as well, a sign that the virus was spreading rapidly.
    On Aug. 10, Memark, the Cobb-Douglas public health director, told the Cobb County Board of Commissioners that child cases had grown by 60 percent in the past week — the first week of school — for kids between the ages of 5 and 17. On Aug. 8, Georgia’s seven-day average number of cases among 5- to 9-year-olds reached a peak higher than at any previous point in the pandemic. As of Wednesday, it was higher still.
    That first week of school, instead of posting pictures of the kids’ first day and sitting each afternoon in the carpool pickup line, my husband and I tried to come up with a schedule to fill their days in advance of virtual school starting later in the month.
    I also attempted to turn off the notifications from my elementary school chat group. But for some reason, I kept getting them.
    On Aug. 6, an alert popped up. A mom wanted us to know that her kindergartner, whose sibling is in the classroom where my second-grader would have been, tested positive. She said she doubted the school would notify us.
    The next morning, another mother confirmed that she herself had tested positive; her kids were negative so far.
    The day after, another family’s three-year-old tested positive. Their school-aged child remained negative.
    That night, a fourth mother’s friend was rounding out a 24-hour hospital stay with her kindergartner who’d tested positive. So had multiple classmates.
    “If you have a little one in that class,” she wrote, “I suggest you get them tested.”
  25. Guest Writers
    by Jeff Minick
    Yesterday I was tapping away on the laptop when through the window I saw a young man walking up the drive toward the house. He was shirtless, wearing jeans and brogans—do they still call work boots by this name?—and I correctly assumed he was one of the crew repaving the driveway of the house across the street.
    When I opened the door, he offered me a business card and began telling me the crew could repair my driveway as well. Shirtless, sweaty, and a bit pudgy, the young man thanked me for hearing him out, turned, and walked down the drive. It was then I saw that his jeans had slipped well down his rear end, exposing him in a highly embarrassing way. Another couple of inches, and he might as well have paraded through the neighborhood naked as the day he was born, at least on the backside.
    I wanted to call him back to the porch, offer him a drink, invite him to take a seat, and then convey a couple of simple facts. If you’re going to roam the neighborhood drumming up business, take 30 seconds to pull up your pants and put on an upper garment, preferably a short sleeve shirt.
    I kept my mouth shut. Shame on me. I should have given him at least a gentle hint, for the way we dress often has repercussions for our behavior in society.
    Most of us would agree, I think, that American standards of dress have declined in the last 50 years. Here in Front Royal, for example, a trip to the local grocery store or Walmart reveals many shoppers dressed in gym apparel. Others wear jeans, shorts, and t-shirts, often unattractive and ill-fitting because of the owner’s weight. Few women wear dresses or skirts, and a man in a suit and tie is a rarity. Occasionally, there’s a shopper wearing flannel pajama bottoms.
    Ordinarily, whenever I travel to town to write and read in the coffee shop, shop at the grocery store, visit the bank, or go to church, I wear khakis and a button-down shirt appropriate to the season. Nothing all that fancy, right? Yet in one of the first articles I wrote for Intellectual Takeout, “How Did America Become a Nation of Slobs?” I noted how one of my granddaughters, while watching Casablanca with me, questioned why everyone was so dressed up. When I explained that everyone used to dress this way, but not anymore, she responded with “you do.”
    As I say in the article, if I’m an example of haute couture, then ordinary fashion is as dead as Dickens’ doornail.
    The neglect in our dress is not so much deliberate nowadays as it is simply a part of who we are. We seem unaware of the public image we create in our choice of clothing. With the exceptions of places like church and work, we either dress for comfort or we simply don’t care about the way we look.
    But I wonder: Does this tendency toward sloppiness have ramifications beyond individual appearance?
    In his recent Intellectual Takeout post “The Forgotten Conservatism of No Country for Old Men,” Alexander Riley includes a passage from Cormac McCarthy’s novel, later made into a movie, where Sheriff Ed Tom Bell reflects on “the ways American culture has gone off the rails:”
    I still see people in my town practicing politeness, holding the door open at the public library for that mom with three little ones who is carrying a bag filled with books, saying “Thank you,” and treating others with respect. On the other hand, I also hear some young people using the f-bomb without regard for those around them, and I see men sitting in church seemingly oblivious to the pregnant woman standing by the wall behind them looking in vain for an open seat.
    Time has changed our dress and our manners, bringing a certain crudity to our culture. Many of us hope for a way out of the decadence into which we have fallen, wanting music, movies, and literature that brighten rather than darken our lives, particularly for our children’s sake.
    But what if one cause of this decline has to do with our dress and manners? What if we dressed as if we respected ourselves, and showed respect for others through practicing basic etiquette?
    Could those small changes lead us to a better place?
     
    Jeff Minick lives in Front Royal, Virginia, and may be found online at jeffminick.com. He is the author of two novels, Amanda Bell and Dust on Their Wings, and two works of non-fiction, Learning as I Go and Movies Make the Man.
    This article republished with permission from IntellectualTakout.org
×
×
  • Create New...