#117 – Dick Bernard: The School Board election

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I live in an affluent community.  There is no “other side of the tracks” unless one counts a few Habitat for Humanity houses not far from here, or some lower income apartments.  This is a well educated place, full of professional types.
My community is one of several who are part of our local school district.  The other communities have slightly different profiles than mine, but not that different.  We are reliably middle class.
Last Tuesday was our districts school board election.  There were 10 candidates for 4 open positions.
It has been a long time since I’ve been parent of a school age child, so public education is a way off my active day-to-day list.  But I always vote, and a week before the election I wrote a friend who I know is active in school affairs in this town, and asked if she had any recommendations.  She didn’t.  So I went about learning what I could about the candidates, picked four, and voted.  The next day I found that half of my candidates won.  Fair enough.  I had showed up.
But it seemed like a very small voter turnout, and I started to nose around.
Succinctly, this particular school district has about 55,000 registered voters.  The school district website says “The population of the district is approximately 100,000 people including the 16,650 students who attend district schools.”
On election day, about 6% – one of sixteen – of those registered voters actually cast a ballot.  The rest apparently didn’t care who made policy for the nearly 17,000 children in this districts schools.
The candidate with the largest vote got 1614 votes.  By my calculation that means about 3% – one of thirty-three registered voters – elected the candidate.
As I looked further into this matter, I came to discover that there was a concerted effort by one group to pull off what I would call a “bullet ballot” for three candidates they supported.  They leveraged the small turnout into a win for two of their people.  Even so, their candidates got very few votes, so even they were not that successful (unless one counts “winning” as the ultimate success).
Our vote this year was uncomplicated.  The only issue was the school board election.  It was a quick in and out for any voter, including the very significant percentage of eligible voters who have children of their own in these public schools.
But the vast, overwhelming majority of people did not care enough to vote, and, as disturbing, to apparently not even care enough who it is making the policy governing their children’s education.  The clear winner in this election was disengagement.
We should be ashamed.
But we won’t be….

#116 – Dick Bernard: Denying Reality

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Recently, I’ve read several articles, research based, on the truly dangerous behavior of humans:  denying reality.
The long and short: we live in a society where we believe what we want to believe…and most of us are in a position, at least for the moment, where we can get away with it.  Climate Change?  No problem.  It’s just odd weather, and the unusual drought conditions somewhere don’t affect us.  I can still buy my bananas at the store – I’ve come to like a banana a day.  Never mind that in my youth, bananas were an exotic fruit rarely if ever seen, and that went for things like oranges too.  Living an entire life in North Dakota and Minnesota, I don’t run into banana plantations with any frequency.  For me, bananas just happen, like Santa Claus.
Our self-deception goes on and on: Incredible numbers of people still believe the long-debunked fiction that Saddam Hussein was somehow behind 9-11, thus justifying a war against Iraq which destroyed that country, and has almost literally bankrupted us.
As somebody said, when confronted with the reality about one of those ubiquitous provably false e-mails that she’d published in her local church bulletin: “I’ll believe what I want to believe.”
Yes, we can get away with deceiving ourselves.  For now.
But that’s a bit like making your bedroom the middle of a never used country road.  For a while it will work, but in the end you’ll be unpleasantly dead.
Sometimes I wonder if there exists in our society some kind of collective self-loathing, a “death wish” as it were.  Common sense says that we’re flirting with disaster long-term, but we thumb our nose at it, and admire the creativity of the people who craft the lies we are expected to believe.
Recently I’ve been noticing a repetitive ad during the nightly news which reassuringly asserts that there’s 100 years worth of natural gas left in our country.  The subliminal message is “not to worry”.  It reminds me of those old cigarette ads in magazines where the doctor was confidently smoking the cigarette, or the with-it woman was enjoying her smoke, or the cowboy on the range (who later died of lung cancer)….  Ah, marketing.
So alarming percentages of us believe that climate change is not a problem, even though the overwhelming consensus of the scientific community is on record that it is a serious problem.  Or that our life styles don’t need to change, even if continuing our life styles will assure no future at all for the generations beyond us.  Or that  Saddam had weapons of mass destruction, even though the very people who perpetrated that fiction years ago, later officially and publicly debunked it themselves.  The list goes on and on.
Are we fools?
The people who approved that ad about the 100 years of natural gas were speaking to people like myself who survive by natural gas as this winter begins.  I don’t know where, exactly, my natural gas comes from; all I know is that if the temperature gets below 70, the furnace comes on….
“100 years” was deemed by the marketing strategists to be a good reassuring number.
As it happens, at the same time I’ve been noticing this ad, I’ve been completing a family history of my Dad’s side of the family, which came to Quebec from France nearly 400 years ago.  I’m doing a history about the first 300 years, ending with my Dad’s birth on December 22, 1907.  (He died a dozen years ago today).
In context with that family history, 100 years is not much more than a blip of history…and I’m not delving into the hundreds of additional years of recorded human history in France.
More so than any generation in history, we can assure our future destruction.
We seem not to care….
Here’s a couple of articles I’ve seen recently on this topic: Your choice.  #mce_temp_url#; #mce_temp_url#
UPDATE: November 7, 2009
Jeff Pricco: Another good article for the deniers: #mce_temp_url#.
Just like the public is saying Obama is not delivering Change.
When the culture of leverage and debt and not facing reality in household or government finances has been three to four decades in the making…profligate spending on credit and a culture and mindset that we can have everything we want and more and not eventually pay the bills…has set in…no President or Congress (an institution I have argued is set up to defeat change) can remedy this in 6 to 12 months….
If this is not a slow painful sluggish recovery with little growth, it will not be successful.  If we opt for more fake bubble remedies that buy us prosperity on credit, we will see the mother of all depressions soon.
Carol Ashley: I think that the more one lacks self-confidence, the more one is apt to not change one’s mind in the face of evidence to the contrary.  In psychological terms it’s known as cognitive dissonance.  People are very good at adhering to their beliefs about what they think they know and justifying those beliefs.
I can go back to child-rearing and look at how parents are loathe to admit they are wrong in front of their children. There seems to be an “understanding” that admitting that one is wrong decreases their authority with their children.  In fact, children tend to often know when parents are wrong and respect for parents goes up when parents can admit when and where they are wrong.
As my nephew and I confront each other on beliefs about what we think we know, we can both attest to how difficult it is to let go of something we believed in the face of evidence to the contrary.  Dan and I are probably unusually willing to confront these things.
For myself, I am aware that i will first become defensive and then, when alone, take a closer look, and then if I find satisfactory evidence, can and often do admit I’m wrong.  But how many people even know themselves that well, much less are able to take the “loss of face,” because that is what it feels like even if it gains you respect for being able to admit the other is right?
It’s a challenge for all of us.  It’s easy to blame the far right for this, but we are all susceptible to some degree.  the far right might be more susceptible but understanding can bring compassion instead of just fighting against them which brings even greater resistance.  We need to understand the fears behind it.
On the other hand, that probably works better on a personal level than in the political real.  Maybe.
Comment back to Carol on her last paragraph: I think personal and political should be dealt with as synonyms.  As Tip O’Neill so quotably said: “All politics is local” (as in, all politics is personal!)

#106 – Dick Bernard: "Capitalism: A Love Story" part II

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Part I of this post appeared on October 3.
We went to Michael Moore’s new film, “Capitalism: A Love Story”, on Thursday afternoon.  Friday morning I sent out to my own mailing list a short message about the movie, succinctly, “See it.  Not only to learn, but to be a public witness to the reach of this film.”
In response to this e-mail, a friend wrote “Although I haven’t seen it and probably won’t, however great Michael Moore’s indictment of Capitalism might be, it [it] lacks some methodology for changing our political and economic system, it’s just another way the plutocratic dictatorship that runs our country lets us discontents and malcontents blow off steam and makes at least some of us feel we actually are accomplishing something.”
“Capitalism: A Love Story” lasts about two hours.
When we were in the theatre for the first afternoon showing, there were about 30 or so of us.  We were very attentive.  There was lots of silence when we left the film.
At the end of the film, the screen went dark, and Michael Moore gave the viewers a little advice.
You have to see the film, or find out from someone else who saw the movie, what the advice was.  That’s how important I think it is for you to actually see the movie in person, if at all possible.
And, yes, the film does mention the P word, as it appears in a bankers group report about the new “Plutonomy”.  The topic of we the “peasants” – a business term – comes up too.
I’m glad I saw the film.
See it.
Then do something about it.

#82 – Marion Brady: A message to students

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#mce_temp_url#
NOTE FROM MODERATOR:  This YouTube video, produced by Marion Brady, is a simple very well done video message to today’s students, educators and policy makers.  I would highly recommend that educators and leaders and policy makers for public education be made aware of the video.
For 77 years Marion Brady has been immersed in public education in numerous roles, from student to teacher to text book author to informed commentator on public education.  His previous blog entries at this space appear at April 24 and May 27, 2009.  Marion lays out a very simple, but very essential prescription for necessary change in Public Education practice to fit the present day and future needs.  He contends that modern public education policy originated in the 1890s, and has inadequately changed in the well over 100 years since.     

#78 – Dick Bernard: Back to school with the President

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Under ordinary circumstances I may not have heard that President Obama was going to give a televised talk to America’s school children at 11 a.m. today.  I’m long retired with no direct ties to public schools.
But these are no ordinary circumstances.  Last Friday morning, I got an e-mail, later withdrawn, in which the sender wanted to alert one of my mailing lists about her complaint about the President of the United States wanting to communicate with children, including her own, about their upcoming school year.  The speech was scheduled for today, September 8.  At the time of the e-mail, I had no context whatsoever.  
(The entire speech will likely be archived at the White House website  www.whitehouse.gov for anyone who is interested.)
The subsequent days were inundated with rhetoric.  For most school districts in my state, today is the first day of the school year.  It is an open guess as to what percent of the nation’s tens of millions of students will be allowed to see the talk live today, if at all.  When it comes to freedom of speech, apparently the President of the United States is, for some, off-limits, at least according to some who wish to shield their children from his thoughts (and in the process deprive the vast majority of the opportunity to hear what he has to say.)  
I spent an entire career in public education, so I know a bit about the reality of the public schools. 
A career public elementary school teacher, now retired several years, commented on the general situation on Saturday: “When I was teaching I would have been so happy to have the President reinforce my job by speaking to students.”  As to disrupting regular events on the first day of school, she said “The first day of school was always full of twists and turns.  Some kids haven’t slept all night because they are scared, some wish they were back home, some are worrying about their bus number, some wish they had a different teacher, some little ones are crying, some are hot (no air conditioning) some are very excited for a new year, etc.  I think it would be reassuring to have the President speak to them.” 
Of course, none of this matters to those who wish to shut down the opportunity for the President to communicate a positive lesson.  
Last Friday, after the e-mail brought the matter to my attention, I wrote to the heads of all of the major public education organizations in Minnesota, saying this:  “What I see is a flagrant adult example of bullying behavior, and you can rest assured that if the organizers of this nationwide protest feel they were successful in this campaign, you can anticipate much more aggressive moves on other fronts as time goes on.  This is not a constituency that will be satisfied with half-a-loaf.  Any sign of weakness you and your members show will be exploited and the problem will get much worse.
It is very ironic to me that this same President Obama, who some people apparently fear will influence their kids, is the same President who not-so-liberal Bill O’Reilly of Fox News wrote about in a cover story in the August 9, 2009, Parade Magazine, included in the St. Paul Pioneer press.  The article, very positive, is entitled “What Children can learn from President Obama”.  Read it.  It’s all very positive…about President Obama.  But now some folks don’t want their children to hear [that same President] speak, and are willing to sabotage the opportunities of other children to hear this message.”
What we are seeing goes far beyond mere hypocrisy.  
This story won’t end with today.
Now to watch the President’s talk to America’s students….
UPDATE: 11:23 A.M.
The ones who needed to watch this speech – the ones who campaigned against its being shown – probably will refuse to tune it in.  I hope they change their mind.

#69 – Dick Bernard: Eunice Kennedy Shriver, Heather, and "…the land of the free, and the home of the" Rave!

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Note comments following this posting.
Yesterday afternoon, August 11, enroute home from a meeting, I listened to a portion of a public radio talk show about the death of Eunice Kennedy Shriver, she of the Kennedy family, and founder of the International Special Olympics.   http://www.eunicekennedyshriver.org/
An hour after I got home, we headed out to suburban Lakeville to see the final festivities of the season for my daughter and the Rave softball team.  Heather is, as described on the Shriver tribute, “intellectually disabled”, and the Rave is part of a league of similarly situated adults in suburban Minneapolis.  The three hours in Lakeville was a delightful end to a long and tiring day.  The Rave lost, but they won fourth place in the final game.  Heather had one at bat and struck out (unusual for her), but it was exciting, nonetheless, to watch these special adults and their extra-special coaches have fun together.  (Three photos from the game at end of this post.)
The juxtaposition, on the same day, of Eunice Shriver’s death and Heather’s final game of the season, with all the trappings: the Star Spangled Banner, a fried chicken dinner, and genuine 4th place ribbons for everyone on the team, presented personally to each of the players, on the field! , made for a nostalgia filled day for me. 
Eighteen years ago, in July, 1991, the International Special Olympics came to Minneapolis-St. Paul, and I made the very lucky decision to take a few days of my vacation and volunteer with whatever for a state delegation.  (There were delegations from around the world at this event.) 
It was a hugely inspiring few days, going here and there with the team, running errands, generally just getting next to the participants and the coaches as they were involved in their activities.
There were many high points in those few days, but nothing higher than the closing ceremony at the Minneapolis Metrodome.  I was among the sea of folks, partcipants, coaches and volunteers, who waited for what seemed like hours for the opportunity to walk into the Metrodome to what was a tumultuous welcome.  Even as I write, 18 years later, I get teary-eyed remembering that extraordinary evening to honor not only the competitors, but the entire “intellectually disabled” community worldwide.   The below photo I took that 1991 evening catches the mood for me.  I am sure, that night, that Mrs. Shriver personally and powerfully declared her signature phrase, “you have earned it“, to each and everyone surrounding me on the field, and to those in the stands and in the greater world as well.  It was awesome. 

Closing Ceremony, International Special Olympics, Minneapolis Metrodome, July, 1991.

Closing Ceremony, International Special Olympics, Minneapolis Metrodome, July, 1991.


It used to be that persons like Heather would be relegated to places like the “School for the Feeble Minded” we used to see when we visited our grandparents in North Dakota years ago.  Until yesterday, I had not heard the term “intellectually disabled” attached to this very special group of citizens. 
It has not been an easy transition from the good old days to today, but legions of people in very small and very large ways have, indeed, effected change in how special persons like Heather are treated by society.  They – the special people and their helpers – are all around us.  In Heather’s case, special recognition goes to her sisters Joni and Lauri, and her Mom, Diane.  “Thank you” does not suffice, but its the best I can do.
At the “Field of Dreams”, Aronson Park in Lakeville MN, I felt the same thrill, last night, that I felt at the Metrodome eighteen years ago.
I am grateful to Eunice Kennedy Shriver, but most especially grateful to the very special people, parents, coaches, staff, who make life a whole lot better for people like Heather, and bring lots of personal satisfaction to people like me.
Thanks, especially, Coach Pricco!
Heather being introduced to the spectators at the game

Heather being introduced to the spectators at the game


The Rave August 11, 2009

The Rave August 11, 2009


Emily on first, Dad first base coach

Emily on first, Dad first base coach


Comment on a phrase used in this post from a reader:
Just a personal pet peeve:
Not to discount the wonderful work of Shriver, but I really dislike the term “intellectually disabled.”  In fact, I very much detest the word “disabled” as applied to people.  It defines us by what we can’t do.  It’s negative.  I’d much prefer the term “differently abled” as cumbersome as it is.
We are all in a sense “disabled” in some ways, whether by age or ability or aptitude.  Setting people apart by what they cannot do does not bring all the various wonderful people, like Heather, into the mainstream to be appreciated for who they are and for what they can do and what they can be in our lives.
Words are powerful and convey messages, intended or not.
On a more positive note, it’s wonderful that Heather can have such a wonderful time with others who can watch and appreciate them.  Certainly not like “the old days.”  Carol Ashley
Brief Response:  I simply repeated the words I heard several times on the MPR program.  It was an interesting exercise to search the internet for the words “intellectually disabled”, and see the points of view there.  I agree, words are very important.  There are differing interpretations of their significance, I suppose.  Dick Bernard

#57 – Dick Bernard: The Politics and Practice of Race

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The New York Times (NYT) “Breaking News Alert” came in at 3:03 PM ET on Friday, July 24, 2009.  The headline: “Obama Says He Regrets His Language on Gates Arrest“.
Anyone stopping by this internet space knows what the flap is about.
There is nothing so sacred to a political figure these days as “staying on message”.  President Obama could regret his final remarks at the news conference on Wednesday even if for no other reason than it deflected news from his main message on health care reform. 
Personally, I think President Obama’s statement and his anger and the defense of his friend were appropriate and right on, and I hope the statement in the NYT release that “Mr. Obama said he had talked to the arresting oficer and hoped the case could become “a teachable moment” to be used to improve relations between minorities and police officers” is a substantive statement.
I have no beef with police, generally.  They have a generally difficult job.  Having said that, police do screw up, and screw up very badly, and knee-jerk support of the police no matter what is uncalled for.  As for non-white “others” like Professor Gates,  generally they are not cut any slack.  If a mistake is made in their arrest, most often it comes to light long after the fact, if at all.  On the one hand, there seems a presumption of innocence for the police; on the other, a presumption of guilt for others, especially non-white.
This issue is considerably closer to my mind than it might otherwise be because last week I was involved in an intercultural conference whose venues included a rural ND Catholic Church basement, and a Community College on an Indian Reservation.  There were a number of times when I felt distinctly uncomfortable to be a white man, solely because of what I symbolized and represented.  (The feeling was embarrassment, and, perhaps, helplessness…what has happened, has happened.  I benefitted from being part of a privileged class, I learned its ways, and it is likely impossible to move completely past it.)
Involved in the conference were a number of people who were called “Africans”, because that’s what they were.  They were likely better educated than myself; they were there because French was their first language; they were all extraordinary people.  But when they came into the Church basement in rural North Dakota there was, among the assembled locals, well, you know:  “What do I say?”  “Who are they?”  That kind of thing.  (It evolved into a good discussion, and church lunches are always good!)
At the conference, at Turtle Mountain Community College http://www.turtle-mountain.cc.nd.us/, the focus was on intercultural relationships between French-Canadians, Metisse (in the old days, “half breeds”, “mixed blood”) and Native Americans (“Indians”, “natives”, “indigenous”), there was also tension: questions not asked; questions asked but not answered….  The steps to honest dialogue are slow and halting. 
The Metisse hero, Louis Riel, was hanged in Canada in 1885, and for years was a reviled symbol of a failed revolution; today he is a cultural icon in the same society that considered him a bitter enemy.  Apparently there is a Louis Riel Day in today’s Manitoba, much as there is a Martin Luther King Day in the U.S.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Riel
The “Indians” on the Turtle Mountain Reservation have a casino, which brings good and bad to their society, and they have a confidence and assertiveness which can be uncomfortable.  It happens that way when attempts are made to level playing fields.  The assertive minority can be assumed to be  “uppity”.  For the dominant culture, uppity would be called confidence; and, of course, white males have been taught that  our “place” is superior.
I am confident that as a society we are moving away from the worst of the racist aspects that have so long identified us.   But we have a long, long, long way to go.  The incident in Cambridge, and President Obama’s response highlight this.
Change will not be easy – it never is.  I remember a long ago handout at a conference.  It was called the “Change Curve”, and it said that on the way to something better than the status quo “steady state”, the road is difficult.  In fact, in the early going things seem to be getting worse than better (think routine things like quitting smoking, or losing weight….).  Persistence brings good results, but it takes persistence.
Whatever happened in Cambridge MA in a residential neighborhood has become world news. 
To me, that occasion should be greeted as an opportunity to deepen and intensify the dialogue on race matters in this country.
Update: July 31, 2009
Yesterday, July 30, the President, the Professor, the Policeman and the Vice-President met at the White House.  The same day, the woman who had called 9-11, Lucy Whalen, made a public appearance.  The recording of her initial call has been released.  She never mentioned race in her call, which was a very calm, simple reporting of only facts that she could observe.  It remains to be seen if the incident will be viewed as an opportunity for dialogue, or as an opportunity to attack, divert attention from other issues, and divide Americans.   Now there is insistence that the lady also meet with the President; and complaints that she was not invited to the men-only meeting.  These do not seem to originate with the woman, who comes across as simply a citizen who was trying to do what was right.  Stay tuned.

Memorializing Eternal War?

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UPDATE: August 14, 2012: This post was written July 23, 2009. Last month, James Skakoon visited the ND-Manitoba International Peace Garden, had the same general feelings I had, and when he came home searched the internet to see if he could find any opinions which were similar to his. He found my post, we got in correspondence with each other, and as a result, he submitted his own opinion, which was recently published in the Bismarck (ND) Tribune. You can read it here. (The text of this column is included at the end of this post.)
This is yet another reminder that results are possible: sometimes they just take a little while.
The original article follows:
See Updates at end of the original post.  Specific links, including contact information, are at the very end of the post.
A reader requested specific information on the location of the International Peace Garden.  Here is the link: http://www.peacegarden.com/maps.htm
international-peace-garden-day-pass-july-18-090021
The first 25 years of my life – 1940-65 – I was a resident of North Dakota.  During that time, or since, I had never visited the famed International Peace Garden, which forms part of the boundary between North Dakota and Manitoba.  (The story of the Peace Garden, which was dedicated in 1932,  is at http://www.peacegarden.com .)

International Peace Garden North Dakota-Manitoba July 18, 2009

International Peace Garden North Dakota-Manitoba July 18, 2009

July 17-18 I was at a conference at Belcourt, ND, and noted that the Peace Garden was only 35 miles or so away.  On July 18, a beautiful summer day, I decided to leave my conference early, drive up to the Peace Garden, and then head back to Winnipeg, where we were visiting relatives.
I found a most beautiful, serene and interesting place…with some dissonance.
The Peace Garden essentially consists of two parallel sidewalks, straddling the international border with beautiful gardens in between.  Off to the sides, on both sides of the borders, are scenic drives.  I had time to do the approximately one and one-half mile walk, from end to end.
About half way down the American side, off to my left, I saw a pile of what looked like construction debris.
Coming closer, I saw a plaque with the headline “Let Peace Prevail“ which described the rubble: “The International Peace Garden represents a unique and enduring symbol of the strength of our friendship as nations, our mutual respect and our shared desire for world peace.
“The events of September 11, 2001, failed to shake the foundation of our shared vision of peace and prosperity for all the word’s people.
“This cairn, composed of steel rescued from the devastation of the World Trade Center in New York , ensures the memory of this tragedy will not be lost and reminds us to cherish tolerance, understanding and freedom.
“Officially unveiled by the Honourable Gary Doer, Premier of Manitoba, September 11, 2002.”

Girders from the Twin Towers at International Peace Garden July 18, 2009

Girders from the Twin Towers at International Peace Garden July 18, 2009

It startled me to see this symbol of what seems to have become justification for Eternal Fear and War occupying this place of Peace, but there it was.  The park brochure, which I looked at later, announced that “in 2010, visitors will see the creation of our 911 Memorial Contemplative Garden sponsored by Rotary Clubs International….”
I continued my walk, reaching the halfway point at the Peace Chapel, near the Peace Tower and straddling the border.  The Chapel was dedicated in 1970 and is sponsored by the General Grand Chapter Order of the Eastern Star.  http://www.ndoes.org.
The walls of this simple and beautiful chapel include 56 quotations all on the most peaceful topics…but in each of the corners were displays of many front pages of international newspapers for September 12, 2001 all, of course, featuring the World Trade Center towers in flames.  To me, it was dissonance.

One of many worldwide newspaper front pages on display in the four corners of the Peace Chapel, primarily from September 12, 2001

One of many worldwide newspaper front pages on display in the four corners of the Peace Chapel, primarily from September 12, 2001

I am glad I went to the Peace Garden, and I do think that its basic message remains as it was when it was dedicated July 14, 1932: “To God in His Glory.  We two nations dedicate this Garden and pledge ourselves that as long as man shall live; we will not take up arms against one another.”  It is “enobling peace”, but its overemphasis on the 911 tragedy is troubling, especially since that tragedy was used almost immediately to justify a war against Iraq, a country which had nothing to do with 911, and the war left huge moral and financial consequences for ourselves and countless other innocents.  “Peace” and “War” became synonyms, in effect.
All the way back to Winnipeg I kept thinking of those 9-11 displays.  I am still considering the letter I plan to send to the assorted officials connected with the Memorial.  I think I will suggest that it is time for those newspapers to leave the Peace Chapel; and that I hope great care is taken to not let a message of fear and war creep into the 911 Memorial Contemplative Garden which likely will surround the twin towers debris.
The drive from the Memorial back to Winnipeg was long and peaceful.  Entering the Red River Valley west of Cavalier on highway 5 I spied a gigantic concrete structure a mile or two off the road.  I knew it was there – I’d seen it before: a visible symbol of an earlier era of fear and loathing, during the 1950s era of guided missiles aimed at the Soviet Union from numerous places in North Dakota.  I went up and took a look.
Here it is:  The story is at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Safeguard_Program.  Scroll down a bit for more on this particular site.

Cold War Relic (still used for something) off Highway 5 west of Cavalier ND July 18 2009

Cold War Relic (still used for something) off Highway 5 west of Cavalier ND July 18 2009

“Let Peace Prevail”?

 

Display of a 1960s Minuteman Missile LaMoure ND August 17 2009

Display of a 1960s Minuteman Missile LaMoure ND August 17 2009

Update August 5, 2009:
On July 23, I wrote the CEO of the International Peace Garden, Mr. Doug Hevenor (text below).  I copied the ND Governor, Manitoba Premier, Grand Secretary of the ND Order of the Eastern Star and the President of Rotary International.
On August 5, Mr. Hevenor graciously responded to my letter.  I will post his response here if/when I have his permission.
A few days ago, Madeline Simon posted as follows: “Having looked at the Peace Garden website and checking out the “What to See” item and the listing for the 9/11 memorial, I found that the winners of the competition for a design were listed with this statement:
“On November 26, 2002, their design, with the message of recall, reflect, remember, understand, forgive, and grow selected as the first place winner.”
Thus far, the first three of these are directly reflected as the titles of the three interdependent chambers titled Recall, Reflect, and Remember, and they appear to be soliciting funds for the project.” (emphasis added)
On July 30, Bob Heberle said this: “Loved and agreed with your disappointment with the Peace Garden between ND and Canada.  The use of 9/11 is appalling and irritates me too.  It’s the very subtle way of totally misdirecting our thoughts and energies.  It is not too dissimilar to the change of the original meaning of Armistice Day by converting it to Veterans Day.  This was done in 1954 by President Eisenhower at the insistence of many military lobbyists.  It is easy to see how by simply adding the word, “veterans” where “Armistice” once was so easily manipulates the thought and changes the idea of honoring perpetual peace to honoring war.  After all, soldiers are for the most part considered warriors.  With all due respect to the honored warriors of native American tradition, Veteran’s Day now promotes glorification of war.
This is why our local, now national,  Veterans for Peace group encourages us to salute November 11 as Armistice Day and ring bells eleven times in honor of the peace pledges of the world that were orginally honored.  We do not encourage the firing of rifles nor fly overs for obvious reasons.
So, for me to turn the Peace Garden into a memorial for 9/11, changes entirely the notion of peace to reminders to avenge.
Relevant portions of letter to International Peace Garden and other officials from Dick Bernard, July 23, 2009:
“The Peace Garden is a beautiful place, but I am concerned about the emphasis on and symbolism of 9-11-01 at the Peace Gardens.
I have no concern whatsoever about 9-11 as a reminder of a departure from Peace.  Indeed, when I developed my own website in March, 2002, the peace and justice section of the website featured two snapshots I had taken of the Twin Towers in June, 1972…I write about 9-11 there: www.chez-nous.net/tree_radio.html .
I am no stranger to the power of symbols.  My uncle Frank, my Dad’s brother, eternally rests aboard one of those symbols: the USS Arizona at Pearl Harbor.  The Arizona was his home for the last six years of his too-short life.  Each December 7 I see his home blow up.
My concern with the Peace Gardens I saw [July 18] is the distinctly negative symbolism that 9-11-01 has come to represent after 2002.  It has been and still is used as a reminder to fear and despise others, rather than as a symbol of Peace.
Of course, I am only one person, with a very limited ability to influence decisions.  But I hope those of you receiving this letter will pay more than casual attention to my concern.
*
More specific info on who manages the International Peace Garden and about the 9-11 project at:
http://www.peacegarden.com/gardeninfo.htm
http://www.peacegarden.com/allpdf/911%20recall.pdf
Mailing address for letters Mr. Doug Hevenor, CEO, International Peace Garden, 10939 Highway 281, Dunseith ND 58329.
October 9, 2009: Relevant portion of letter sent to all 16 members of the Board of the International Peace Garden.
“,,,The matter of the Peace Garden focus on 9-11-01 is never far from my mind.
I think the seeming continuing emphasis on the terroristic aspect of 9-11 is inappropriate at this stage in our history (if it ever was appropriate), and sends a message contrary to the very mission of the International Peace Garden.  9-11 has come to be a symbol of war and enmity more than of peace and reconciliation.  It is most especially inappropriate at a place of peace, as the Peace Garden is supposed to be.
At the absolute minimum, I would ask that the website reference #mce_temp_url# be cleaned up and expanded to include all aspects of the proposed memorial*.  But I’d like the efforts to go beyond just that.
I am very well aware that actions such as implanting girders from the World Trade Center complex are, once taken, often difficult to impossible to reverse, for all sorts of reasons, good and not so good.  It is easier to dismiss solitary objections like mine, than to seriously look at their possible validity.
About all I can do is to call attention to this matter.
Sincerely,
Dick Bernard
* – This page at the website gives only passing, almost invisible, mention to the other three components of the 9-11 Memorial at the Peace Garden: UNDERSTAND, FORGIVE and GROW.  They are mentioned in the letter, but given no emphasis whatever, compared with the other words.
Crisis Sequence handout also sent to the Board.  This is a handout from some long ago workshop I attended, and it well identifies how human beings normally react to major crises (like the World Trade Center attack) – it’s a matter of months, not years.  I prefer to use the original somewhat ragged copy, rather than reconstruct it.  Succinctly,  a continuing crisis needs to be nurtured, and that is what I think has happened with 9-11.  The words are not visible below, but in the heading, and the line, where the two words are circled, these are the words, from left to right:
Phase: – Impact – Recoil-Turmoil – Adjustment – Reconstruction
Time Period: – Hours – Days – Weeks – Months
The other lines:
Time Perspective: – Present – Past – Future
Emotions – Fight-Flight – Rage-Anxiety-Guilt-Depression – Hope
Thought: – Disorientation/Distractibility – Ambiguity/Uncertainty – Problem-Solving
Direction: – Search for lost object – Detachment – Search for new object – Re-attachment
Search Behavior: Reminiscence – Perplexed Scanning – Exploration – Testing

Crisis Sequence circa 1972

Crisis Sequence circa 1972

James Skakoon column in August 13, 2012 Bismarck Tribune (direct link is at beginning of this post):
The International Peace Garden lies in the Turtle Mountains between Manitoba and North Dakota. Its long central garden parallels the border, with one half in Canada, one half in the United States.
Approaching the Peace Garden from north or south, one can drive unimpeded into the garden grounds. Returning to either country, however, requires re-entering through Customs at the border crossings. This suggests that the International Peace Garden sits outside any national boundaries and is thus devoid of political and national conflict.
I recently visited the International Peace Garden. Although I had been there many times before, it has been some 40 years since my last visit. My expectations, however, had not changed. I expected a pleasant, beautiful, calming place where I could experience positive thoughts of peace and good will.
My expectations were quickly dashed upon seeing a gruesome memorial to 9/11 within the International Peace Garden. The memorial is centered around a mass of 10 damaged, twisted girders salvaged from the World Trade Center rubble. I was appalled to see something so incongruously out of place in a space dedicated to peace. The sight of these girders is hardly calming and not at all peaceful.
To be fair, the Carillon Bell Tower at the Peace Garden is dedicated to war veterans, perhaps suggesting a precedent for other memorials on the garden grounds. It was erected by the North Dakota Veterans Organization in 1976 as a bicentennial project. Also to be fair, an attempt has been made by the Peace Garden to make something positive, if not quite suggesting peace, out of its 9/11 memorial. For example, the headline on a placard at the display reads, “Let Peace Prevail.”
The winning entry of a student design competition for the area around the girders offered a message of “recall, reflect, remember, understand, forgive, and grow.”
This compassionate entry is the theme for the final display areas around the girders. But neither these elements, nor anything else about the memorial are likely to change our automatic emotional reaction to 9/11, and a memorial to veterans such as the Carillon Bell Tower is unlikely to evoke a similar reaction.
September 11th and its aftermath represent religious zealotry, terrorism, revenge, destruction, political strife, military and civilian casualties, hatred, and war. And yes, heroism, service, bravery, and loss as well. One peace-like word, cooperation, applies to the Western world’s response to 9/11 (although it was largely one nation imposing its political will on others). Then again, this cooperation led most prominently to waging a war.
At a Sept. 10, 2003, ceremony at the Peace Garden remembering the terrorist attacks, Kent Conrad, a U.S. senator from North Dakota, said of 9/11, “It was a day that roused a mighty nation to anger, and to action.“
None of this relates to peace, at least not now or in the foreseeable future.
I have no untoward contempt for memorials to human tragedies, wars, and other catastrophes. In Berlin, I visited the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (Holocaust Memorial). I cried. I visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington D.C. I cried there, too.
I visited Wounded Knee, S.D., the site of an 1890 massacre of Native Americans by U. S. Cavalry. I cried again.
These memorials are either in their original locations or in spaces dedicated to and evoking their purpose. The same is true of every other memorial I have visited or can think of. Removed from its immediate context, the Peace Garden’s 9/11 memorial poignantly accomplishes its mission.
The articles of incorporation for the International Peace Garden, which was dedicated in 1932, state the purpose as “Creation and maintenance of [a] garden or gardens…as a memorial to the peace that has existed between the United States of America and the Dominion of Canada.” The inscription on the stone cairn at the entrance to the Garden pledges eternal peace between Canada and the United States: “…as long as man shall live we shall not take up arms against each other.”
A June 3, 2002, Manitoba government press release quoted then Manitoba Premier Gary Doer as saying, “The International Peace Garden is a magnificent and unique site and I can think of no place more appropriate or fitting for a memorial of this kind.”
Although Doer surely intended a purely positive comment for the 9/11 memorial effort, perhaps he should have examined the garden’s purpose beforehand. Everyone is allowed his or her opinion; some are quite different.
When I explained about the 9/11 memorial on the Peace Garden grounds to a friend, he replied, “9/11 doesn’t have to be everywhere.”
What 9/11 has to do with peace is beyond me. Visitors to the International Peace Garden should not have to be reminded of terrorism, hatred and war. This memorial does not belong there.
(James G. Skakoon is an engineer, inventor, and author. He was born and raised in North Dakota and now lives in St. Paul.)

#43 – Dick Bernard: Fathers Day

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Happy Father’s Day to all you biological Dads, and the legions of “Dads” whose role was defined by other than physically being the parent. 
Being “father” is a complicated business that defies simple definition.  Even defining my own assorted roles over the 45 years since I first became a father in 1964 would take a lot of words: and that would only be my own descriptions from my own perspective.  Suffice to say that I am with experience in the business of trying to be “father”; all of those who have experienced me as “father” at any point along the way would have their own interpretation of whether I was a good Dad, or a lousy one, or all shades in between at one time or another in each relationship. 
 That is how the role “father”  is.  It is pretty hard to make a “sound bite” of what it is to be “Dad”.
Over the years I’ve watched a lot of men, (and women), practice the imperfect art of fatherhood, juggling it with all the assorted roles that come along with the job.  Each of us have similar stories, having lived the life, or watching someone else live it.  Each story is unique and really never ends.  In many ways we are, good and not so good, a reflection of who we watched and experienced over our lives.   
 My “poster child” for this Father’s Day 2009 is my great-grandfather, Denys-Octave Collette.  I’ve picked him because his is the earliest real photograph I have of an ancestor.  It is an old tintype that I still have.  That photograph is at the end of this piece. 
Octave, as he was apparently called, was born in rural Quebec in 1846, and when he was about 21 the entire family, parents and siblings, moved west to St. Anthony, the original white settlement at St. Anthony Falls, which a few years later became part of Minneapolis MN.  He was not his father’s first child, but he carried his father’s name for some reason.  That Dad went by Denys for some reason.
In 1868 Octave married my great-grandmother Clotilde Blondeau at the Catholic Church of St. Anthony of Padua in St. Anthony MN, only a mile or so from historic St. Anthony Falls.  Her Dad was a French-Canadian voyageur, and (almost certainly) her Mother a native American from Ontario.  The Blondeaus, already with a young family,  had somehow or other come to what is now suburban Minneapolis (present Dayton) not long after 1850, long before there were railroads or roads to this area. 
In 1878, Octave, and several of his brothers, “walked”, it is said, to homestead some ground on the Park River at Oakwood ND, a village just to the east of later-founded Grafton, and a few miles west of the Red River of the North.  The description “dirt poor” probably well describes them.
From the union of Octave and Clotilde came ten children, including my grandmother Josephine.  Several of the children died young, as was not uncommon in those times.  Their entire married life they lived on the same farm, doing their best.   
Great-Grandma died in 1916.  Great-Grandpa remarried the next year to some mysterious woman in Minneapolis.  I say “mysterious” because she apparently did not pass whatever test was administered by the family for acceptability…I know her name and when they were married and where, but she doesn’t merit even a footnote in the family annals.  Had my Dad not “spilled the beans” about her, I probably wouldn’t know she existed.
She died in the early 1920s in Minneapolis.  They had a small store (which still exists as a corner store) on Lyndale Avenue at about 36th Street in North Minneapolis.  Their home exists now only in memory, somewhere above the cars which enter Minneapolis bound I-94 at the Dowling Avenue ramp. 
Octave died a year or two after his spouse at what was called the “poor farm” in Winnipeg (doubtless there’s a story there, too).  He came home to be buried next to his first wife and two of their children who had died in infancy in the churchyard of Sacred Heart Church in Oakwood ND.  He resides there to this day, roughly a half mile from where he farmed for the first 40 years of Oakwoods existence. 
I’ll be at that still-surviving church and churchyard about noon on July 17, along with a tour group who is revisiting French-Canadian, and intercultural relationships between the whites, native Americans and Michif (“half-breeds”) at Turtle Mountain in Belcourt.  We’ll be exploring relationships….
Thanks for the memories, Great Grandpa. 

Octave Collette and Clotilde Blondeau - 1868 - Minneapolis MN

Octave Collette and Clotilde Blondeau - 1868 - Minneapolis MN


Update: July 11, 2009
Monday we head north from the twin cities area for a short vacation.  On the 15th we will be in Winnipeg to visit relatives on Octave’s side of the family; on the 17th I will be in Oakwood, at a luncheon in the church which Great-Grandpa Octave helped to found in 1881, near which he lived and farmed and raised a family for nearly 40 years, and in whose churchyard he is buried.  The next few days will be an opportunity to revisit family history.
The original post, above,  began normally enough, about a Father on Father’s Day.  But Octave’s life ended unpleasantly, with family friction and dilemmas resulting in his dying on a “poor farm” (rest home) in Winnipeg; and his grave in Oakwood un-marked for well over 50 years.
As it goes in families generally, exposure of “dirty laundry” is not always appreciated as it appears to sully the family reputation.  Such is what happened in this post, though in a very innocuous manner.  On the day this post appeared, one descendant, a cousin of mine, wrote me with a story of why the Canadian kin did not harbor their kin in his last unfortunate years.  “he had been [at his sons house] for only a few days and fell down the stairs [and they couldn’t take care of him].  [Two of the sons] wanted to have him buried with their mother in Oakwood.  [One] had a large family and could not afford to bring his Father to Oakwood.  [The other] was able to scrape together enough money to bury his dad with his mother in Oakwood.”   
But there was more to the story, most of which will never be known, but some of which was filled in by my Dad in 1981. 
Octave was part of a large family, and all of his siblings moved to the Oakwood area about 1880, and by the time of his death, there were lots of descendants and relatives in the area between Oakwood and Winnipeg.   Nowhere was there “room in the inn”.
In 1981, my father wrote about the situation: his mother, Octave’s daughter, could not take in her Dad because their house was too small and she still had three kids living at home.  Octave’s son, who had received the farm from his Dad a few years earlier, perhaps could have, but his new spouse was not especially excited about the prospect of having an aged relative she hardly knew living with them.  Hers was likely a very reasonable concern.
Many other siblings and kinfolk between Minneapolis and Winnipeg existed, and all likely had similar and perfectly logical stories.   They had not planned for Octave coming home.
I leave the last word to my own father, Henry Bernard, who was Octave’s grandson, and was a teenager when the family drama took place.  After I noticed no headstone at Octave’s grave in 1981 I asked my Dad to tell me what he knew about the story, and he did, in two letters dated June 29 and July 13, 1981.  Parts of this essay reflect what he remembered.
Two short portions of his story, in his own words,  seem pertinent to end this essay: “No marker was ever put for him [on his grave] for some reason.  There were stories about that but I don’t think it is pertinent.”  (No one has subsequently “spilled the beans” on that tantalizing morsel!)
He neatly sums up the story, thusly: “The comments reveal the reality of all families – that not all is perfect, and in fact it is unreasonable to expect perfection….”
Here’s to families, with all their warts and imperfections!  We do the best that we can do.
Update July 23, 2009:
I visited the “scene of the crime” July 16, 17 and 19, and perhaps have what will be the last words on this topic.
July 16, in rural Manitoba, I visited with Agnes, recently turned 90, who is Octave’s granddaughter, lived in the house with Octave, and was 5 years old when he took the fateful tumble which led to his hospitalization at the “Poor Farm” in Winnipeg sometime before his death in January, 1925.  Agnes remembered Octave as a man with white hair who walked the farmyard with his hands clasped behind his back.  In the directness that accompanies being 90, and reflecting the innocence that accompanied being 5, Agnes said that when she saw her Grandpa fall down the stairs, she laughed – she thought it was funny (her Mom quickly straightened her out!)  As she was recalling the event I remembered that a number of years ago my Dad and I had stayed in the same house, and we had come down the same stairs as Octave had that fateful day many years earlier.
I also remembered an incident when I was less than 10 when I, and a bunch of other boys, witnessed my own father taking a wicked tumble down a stairs.  None of us paid much attention to his agony – we were playing basketball, and that was more important.  Thankfully, Dad got up and wasn’t hurt (he was perhaps 40 at the time).  Hopefully, if he had been hurt, one of us would have had the common sense to get some help for him.  Kids often don’t tune in to these kinds of things.
The day after the meeting with Agnes, I was in the churchyard where Octave remains buried, an appropriate footstone now marking his presence.
Octave Collette R.I.P March 23,1846-January 25, 1925

Octave Collette R.I.P March 23,1846-January 25, 1925


Two days later, Sunday, July 19, several of us went to the site where Octave had died, next to the St. Boniface Cathedral in Winnipeg.    By now, I was hearing the “Poor Farm” more accurately described as a Hospital or Hospice; a caring place staffed by the Grey Nuns.  The original hospital had been replaced by an impressive new hospital on the same site as the old.  In those old days, it was not uncommon for elders to spend their last years in a hospital room.  In fact, Octave’s daughter, my grandmother, lived her last several years in such a circumstance in her North Dakota town.  She died in 1963.
Octave has long rested in peace; now I can rest as well, knowing (I think) most of the rest of the story.  I still have curiosity about Octave’s second wife and her sons: I know the unusual surname, and actually saw it on a billboard while in Canada, but whether I will actually pursue that angle or not is an unanswered question.
It has been an interesting search.

#40 – Dick Bernard: Dr. George Tiller May 31, 2009; Stephen T. Johns June 10, 2009: Some thoughts about a conversation

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I think I might have a somewhat unusual “spin” on the tragic deaths of Dr. Tiller and Mr. Johns.
What Dr. Tiller and Mr. Johns have in common is that they were gunned down in public settings by cold-blooded killers who doubtless felt they were righteous in their deadly actions.
After Dr. Tiller was gunned down while ushering at his Lutheran Church in Wichita KS,  I heard a tidbit of information that I hadn’t noticed before.  The same tidbit was in the news again on June 10 when Officer Johns was killed at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington D.C.  It jogged my mind back to an angry  conversation a few weeks earlier.
More on the tidbit in a moment; first, a personal “back story” about the angry conversation….
Wednesday, May 6, the local paper in my town published a letter I had written, challenging my local Congresswoman’s deliberate lying about a simple fact relating to the outbreak of the Swine Flu.  I wrote on “the false “coincidence” connecting two [Democrat] presidents [Carter and Obama] to the Swine Flu.”  It wasn’t even a clever lie.  It was exceedingly easy to disprove. 
I closed by saying “Lies are no little deal“.  (The entire letter is at the end of this post.)
I have noticed that the more “local” the “politics” is, the more “down and dirty” it can be.  
The afternoon the newspaper arrived in our mailboxes I received a phone call from a neighbor down the block.  The lady – let’s call her Jane – is a prim, retired, church-going lady.  We know her.  She’s a nice lady. We knew her politics.  But, while firm, she was anything but argumentative.
This particular afternoon, though, was different.  She had read my letter, and she was outraged.   It took me aback, it was so unlike her.  I think I might have inadvertently set her off by saying, in my letter, that my Congresswoman spread “viral messages” which she hoped would “stick in the minds of gullible consumers“.  Nobody likes to be called “gullible”. 
The neighbor went on a rant, including being  incensed that Obama’s Homeland Security had, she said, a list of Christians they were watching, and that she’d heard that on Fox News.  Things settled down, but I wouldn’t call what we had a “civil conversation”.
There have been no followup calls, nor rebuttal letters to the editor on my topic.  Next time I see “Jane” we’ll get along just fine.
I was puzzled by her Homeland Security assertion, until Dr. Tiller was gunned down, and then Mr. Johns.  In the wake of both killings the Homeland Security Assessment, released in early April, 2009, became a topic of news commentators.   It created such controversy at the time that the Secretary of Homeland Security felt a need to apologize.  The problem, it is now clear, is that it was and is a very prudent document, no apology needed.
We will never get rid of extremists in this country.  We have a large population, and there are plenty of very well-armed and very angry folks who exploit their freedom, targeting people with whom they disagree.  Our domestic al Qaeda has been known and in existence for ages through vigilante and terrorist groups and individuals like the Ku Klux Klan, neo-Nazis and their ilk which target certain “others”.  Most of the member of these groups seem a lot like me – almost all white men.  They would be outraged to be called “terrorists”, but that is what they are, and they depend on people like all of us to not take a stand.
I hope that the two assassinations, less than two weeks apart, are not harbingers of a trend.  At the same time, this is definitely a time to be vigilant and to be in dialogue about our own very real problems within our own society.
I take some lessons from the above recounted events:
1.  However “ragged” it was, my neighbor and I were in conversation, even dialogue, something not usual enough in our polarized society.  We were polar opposites, but we were talking.
2.  My letter to the local paper, and their willingness to publish it, helped facilitate the conversation that otherwise would never have happened.
3.  It is by small steps that big changes come about, but we need to take the small, sometimes frightening, steps.  My letter, and Jane’s phone call, were probably equally scary for us.  I appreciate her calling me.
We learn from those views we resonate with; we also learn by crossing boundaries, and listening to others with different points of view.  Make the opportunity to engage with others.   
*
The letter, published May 6, 2009.
“It would be nice to dismiss Rep. Bachmann’s assorted factual errors as amusing, but what she and her advisers are about is dead-serious: they wish to implant in the public mind sundry lies, such as the false “coincidence” connecting two Presidents to the Swine Flu.
Bachmann seems more than willing to carry these viral messages, which are then duly reported, hopefully to stick in the minds of gullible consumers.
I happen to be from a Christian tradition, where we were taught that one can lie either by omission (leaving something important out) or commission (telling a whopper).
It is my understanding that in the Jewish tradition, a lie was an even bigger deal: assassination of one’s character was a potential capital offense.
This is no laughing matter.
Three years or so ago my best friend in [this town] left town solely because his teenage daughter was being hounded by teenage “friends” who did everything in their power to malign her.
Lies are no little deal.”