I begin this at 11 PM on a Friday night, May 20, 2016, just over two days before I reach the Biblical three score and ten as a measure of a person's life (on Monday). Because that occasion falls on a workday, my spouse has asked me to trust her, and on Sunday will take me someplace to celebrate, and to stay over night, before I return to school on the morning of my birthday.
I will return to a school to which I will not be returning after this school year, not yet knowing if I will again be in a classroom, or if so where.
My students know of the approaching occasion, but not that I will not return. Some 70% of them are seniors, so that will not matter. For some of the juniors it will also not matter, but for some they will be disappointed, having signed up for a class that currently only I teach.
I write this in the midst of the most bitter primary contest I have experienced since I joined this site in December 2003.
I have a few thoughts on my mind.
They are not specifically about politics or the primary, although both inform my thinking.
Some will dismiss what I have to offer. The reasons will vary. Some will assert I think too much of myself, which my wife, knowing my insecurity and self-doubt, will find at least amusing if not ridiculous. Others have chosen to dismiss me or demean me because of my choice this political cycle. Others will claim they have lost respect for me because I post things they view as spiking the football, when I consider it a matter of informing people of things they might not otherwise see.
Some will not object to the content, but insist the way I label a post is insulting, even if all I do is quote the words of someone else about whose words I am writing.
Right now none of that matters.
If that is what you expect, you can stop reading right now.
If you think I have anything of value to say, or might, or even if you are just curious, then continue reading. Quite frankly, what you decide does not matter to me. I only know that I have to write this post, which is why that is the title I have chosen.
Birthdays ending in zeros seem to indicate major milestones.
For me, as I approach every birthday, it is an occasion to reflect.
I never expect to live this long.
It is not a matter of genetics. Yes, my mother died in her 40s, but my father lived to his mid-80s, and several of his siblings into their 90s.
For much of my life I wondered why I existed, what purpose my live served.
There are things in my past of which I am not proud. I say that because they were words and actions either intended to be harmful or demeaning to others, or which chose to ignore the potential of hurting others.
When I was in my mid-20s, shortly before I returned to college at age 25 to finally obtain my bachelor’s degree, I used to think I would die in a room alone, and no one would realize what had happened to me until my body began to stink.
I have now been together with Leaves on the Current since Sept 21, 1974, a period longer than I expected in my mid 20s would be the measure of my life.
I am not an easy person, in part because of my insecurity, but also because of my shyness.
I am usually at my best with small children and with domestic creatures.
Today I watched the video of Joe Biden speaking/writing to the 12 year old Joe Biden. It was very moving. I heard him talk about being a stutterer, and being bullied.
I was not a good writer when I was young. I’d like to think that as Joe Biden over his life has become an often very effective speaker, sometimes even very moving, I have at least become a good writer, one who at times can touch other people, or perhaps motivate them to begin to believe in their own powers of expression.
Perhaps that is part of why I became a teacher.
It is also because there were teachers — in high school, in college, and one piano teacher — who made a real difference for a very troubled young man, many many years ago, and I feel a responsibility to pass that on.
One problem about politics and about issues is that we care so deeply about them that sometimes we can become blind to the impact upon others of the words and deeds we put out in pursuit of our goals. I admit that can be true of me, and it was very much true in both the 2004 and 2008 cycles. I do not need others to remind me of things I said and did then.
I also have learned over my now almost 7 decades that it can be hard to accept loss of something to which one has committed one’s whole being. Even being gently reminded of reality can be extremely painful.
For all my doubt, one thing of which both my wife and my students reassure me is that I am a caring person.
I have a student who shall remain nameless. It is mathematically impossible for that student under the rules to obtain a passing grade in the course with me, which is required for graduation. There were major family issues that the student did not communicate to me until the damage had been irrevocably done. I have made clear to my department chair, and he will support me, that I am going to bend the rules, allow the student to make up work well past the final deadline, and thus allow the student to graduate. For gosh sakes, the student is not yet 18, and should not have life permanently scarred by a mistake of judgment made at this time.
What I am doing with this student reflects part of who I am. So does the fact that I teared up when showing the Biden video to that student’s class this afternoon. I then talked in detail about Biden’s background and asked if they wanted to see it again. They did, I showed it, and there were many moist eyes afterward.
When I share here something I have read, it is because I believe it is of value to at least some people. It hurts when people assume I am doing so to be in their face. But that will not stop me from doing something that is an important part of who I am: often when I read things I know that it is important that I ensure that others to whom those might speak have a chance to read them. I have to accept that not all will perceive that is what I am doing, but I will continue to do it.
Some of what I write is well received.
Some is attacked.
Some is largely ignored.
So be it.
It is almost like being in Friends (Quaker) Meeting for Worship: I feel a message, and expression, it does not necessarily speak directly to me, I only know that I have to share it because it is intended for someone else.
I have known since I was a pre-teen that I was a bit of an oddity, that I did not really "fit” or “belong.” Despite, or perhaps even because, of how much I was a misfit, at times I have been asked to take on responsibility for roles of leadership for others. It is not natural for me, and at times I do it poorly, but I recognize that I have a responsibility to respond to what others may need, as best as I can.
As best as I can.
I am a very flawed human being. Believe me, I know.
I suspect that many of us, in our private moments, might feel similarly. I do not know for sure, but I do suspect.
I know that I cannot please everyone with what I say or do. That is true as a teacher, and that is certainly true here on a blog that has primarily a political purpose, but which attempts — with a fair amount of success - to go beyond that to be a community. The first Yearly Kos meeting in Vegas in 2006 was amazing, because for many of us it was the first time our community became real.
I think back to one late-night meal, and then another. The first that comes to mind was when a group of us wound up at the Bellagio. I went over with Quicksilver and Empty Wheel. Others at the table included Jane Hamsher, Glenn Greenwald, and some people as ordinary as me. It was a fascinating conversation, and for someone like me — a school teacher from suburban DC — an interesting experience to encounter people with penetrating minds who were passionate about things that touched me.
But the meal that meant more was late night in the Riviera. One of the people at that table is now dead. Another is a passionate Bernie supporter. Another has gone on to a doctoral program and has some recognition for her writing on a number of topics. And I am still a school teacher.
During this primary season, since I first announced that I was supporting Clinton, I have received attacks on my ability to think, people of accusing me of being a lousy teacher, people who thought they would shame me by saying they no longer respected me. Why? Because I have a different opinion of whom to support as our party’s nominee? You might not agree with my reasons, but that is no occasion to feel it necessary to attack or demean me.
The virulence of what I have experienced is not limited to comments on my posts here. I have had people stalk me on Facebook and Twitter. i have not only had to unfriend people, I have had to block some, which prior to this primary season I had done only once with one particularly obnoxious person in Northern Virginia politics.
It saddens me to see what has been happening here. While it is true that polling data indicates that this primary season is less destructive than that of 2008, I actually think that — given the circumstances — what I have seen and experienced here is far worse.
For while during the primary season I pulled back, not merely to avoid the acrimony, but because I had other things that were more important to me.
I care deeply about what happens in our politics, because I worry about the future.
I worry about the future because I spend my working hour with adolescents, and I worry about the world we will leave behind for them.
I also cannot avoid being concerned about my own personal future. I may be past retirement age, but I have no choice but to continue to work because of the financial situation we face because of my wife’s illness.
I take all of this in.
I stop everything else, and let the various concerns and issues run through my mind, and work themselves out.
I confront yet again who I really am, and what difference my life has meant, and what purpose it might have as I go forward.
I think I have reached a point where I am certain about a number of things.
The love that Leaves on the Current continues to give me is the primary reason I am still alive and sane. She believes in me more than I believe in myself.
Politicians are imperfect vessels for our best aspirations, they will always disappoint us in some way, and if we insist upon purity or perfection we are both delusional and doomed to great disappointment.
I am still an effective communicator/challenger/mentor, even as the way I use those skills might not be as they have been, either as a classroom teacher or an online writer.
I am not as insignificant or uncared about as the man in his mid 20s who thought he would die alone in a room, and no one would notice until his body began to stink.
I am also no more important than any person I might encounter, and no less, be that person a nationally known politician or a mentally disturbed person panhandling on the street down which i walk. As the Quaker I try to be, it is my responsibility to answer that of God in each person I might encounter. I can also hope they might respond to me accordingly.
And yet — I am no longer sure the notion of a deity makes much sense to me. Nevertheless, that idea, of answering that of God, is still important to me.
I am not logically consistent. That does not bother me. I am not concerned with consistency for consistency’s sake — that would be the “foolish consistency” about which Emerson cautioned.
When the clock indicates the passage from May 22 to May 23 I will not transform in any significant way, just because I am then 70 years old.
I will acknowledge the occasion. I will be with my wife, who will affirm me and the occasion.
I will admit to being somewhat amazed at having live that long.
It is more amazing to look back and see how much the world has changed during the three score and ten years I will have been on this earth.
I will acknowledge, as I acknowledge now, how fortunate I have been: I can count a dozen times when by all rights I should have been seriously injured or even killed, most recently when driving the children of a friend to their father when my car suddenly stalled in the center lane of a 65 MPH interstate highway.
I have been blessed by things and people I did not always appreciate.
Of greater importance, I have had many opportunities to do good for others, despite my failings as a human being.
It is now Saturday. In 48 hours the year of my life will change.
I will still be me, a flawed but caring human being.
I write with passion.
Some respond with passion.
Often our passions will conflict.
I can only hope that in that conflict we do not lose sight of that of God in the other. And in ourselves.
As I approach three score and seven, that is my focus.
To remember there is that of God in you, which I must answer.
And there is that of God in me, which I must nurture.
Have a good weekend.