HIGHER EDUCATION

   Just to be clear, I’ll state up front that I do indeed have a college degree. I don’t wish anything negative to be construed as sour grapes because I never made it to college.

   That said, I got my business degree when I was forty years old. I worked a full time job and was able to squeeze a two-year degree into seven years. I should host seminars on how to pull that feat off. Trust me, it’s not as easy as it sounds. I felt like I was living two separate lives condensed into one body. The point is that I have a unique perspective from both sides of the tracks.

   I suppose part of my frustration with the whole higher education process are the things you must learn to be pronounced “enlightened”. I wouldn’t mind studying unrelated and pointless things, but this is costing me a semester of time. Besides, this is not a cheap endeavor. For this kind of cash I should be remotely interested, but often I was not. But, I’m sure I learned something valuable to put in my sack for the journey.

   But, there was a gap between the idealistic expectation and the “feet on the ground” reality. Originally, I was filled with anticipation of having the world’s smartest people impart so many valuable things to me. I would attend classes in these huge buildings that showcase awesome architecture. With structures that incredible, there had to be brilliance housed inside. I felt a little smarter just walking in the door, with an air that I somehow belonged.

   Once inside, we would be taught how to disseminate information, discriminate among the conflicting ideas in the world, using logic and intelligence and valid rationale to scrap poor ideas and celebrate the good ones. If there was disagreement, the truth-seeking rational minds would meet and intelligently discuss until there was regard for the opposing opinion, if not agreement.

   Although I was middle-aged, my head was so buried in the sand. In reality, we have room for a wide spectrum of thought, just as long as it doesn’t conflict with what we all decide to be the best way. Free thinking is what we all espouse until someone gets serious about an opposing view. Suddenly, one must choose between his/her convictions or the prospect of repeating the class next semester due to a failing grade.

   I have heard it said that the goal of education is to teach the student to think for himself. I fear that is no longer true. The revised goal is to get everyone thinking and believing in lockstep. Higher Indoctrication would be a more accurate term.

   There have been many stories of professors who have jeopardized their careers or tenure for taking a stand contrary to the establishment. If the University is “the marketplace of ideas” where tolerance is exalted above all else, why aren’t we anxious to hear all of the ideas?

   If anyone disagrees with this, try this experiment. Go into your institution and announce that you believe Global Warming is a hoax, and that you believe the evidence offered by scientists whose reports are ignored. Or this: offer the opinion that traditional marriage is the best thing for children and Society, that you believe we should not abandon 5000 years of an institution that makes for an orderly civilization just because a small percentage want it.

   It won’t take very long to figure out that tolerance is a buzzword that no one really practices.

   I mentioned earlier that I was in my forties when I earned my degree. Although I was frustrated with my late arrival at the time, I am thankful for it now. Had I been 19 years old, I may have swallowed every notion hook, line and sinker as well. I may have quickly adopted bogus philosophies as my own like the others did.  

   College was a great experience, a real challenge, and very overrated.

  

   

OF BULLIES AND CHILD LABOR LAWS

   Many people hold cherished memories from their schooldays when they were kids. The fun stuff they did with their best friends and how great it was to be a carefree kid enjoying school shaped who they are today. Their faces light up as they recount hilarious experiences, favorite teachers, pep rallies and dances.

   I envy these people; that was not my experience. I didn’t hate school, but it was no picnic either.

   I was a good student and got decent grades. In retrospect, I could have been an honor student had I applied myself.

   But that wasn’t my goal in school. My chief aim was to maintain a low profile, not work too hard but still accomplish my tasks and go home.

   Unfortunately, life is seldom that simple in the world of Kid-dom. I loved those times “under the radar”, but they never lasted long. 

   No. There always seemed to be someone who was somehow bothered by the fact that I was just enjoying my day and they felt the need to intervene.

   Another trait that I’ve always had was that I was a loner. When you’re a kid, the term is “weird.” I had friends of course, but sitting by myself was just as fun for me as being with friends. Others wanted to be popular, but it was never my goal. It went against the grain of the “low profile” thing.

   For some unknown reason, when certain people observed someone quietly working, and not bothering anyone, it seemed to set off a red flag to them. Here was an oddity they needed to investigate and harass.

   I was a bully magnet. I can imagine the audible beeps going out from the bully’s radar, and speeding up when it zeroed in on me, reading a book in the corner.

   The bully would grin and elbow his buddy and point to me. And it was on.

   One case in particular is vivid in my mind; because it was the last occurrence.

   Neil C. moved to our school from Texas. He was an athlete and loved football. The first thing I noticed was his southern drawl. I heard it before on television but he was the first real person I met who really had one.

   I’m not one who can remember four decades ago in excruciating detail. So I can’t say how it all happened exactly.

   But Neil started giving me trouble and found he got attention for doing it.

   It was my first experience with injustice. I was born and raised here, and along comes the new guy who talks funny, hassling me. I felt betrayed by my classmates who knew me longer than they knew him.

   They were on board though, because he was a cool football player and I was the nerdy bookworm loner.

   This comes to mind since there is much talk in the news about anti-bullying laws and tragic stories of kids committing suicide after being harassed.

   I have to object when the only solution to a problem seems to be a political one. Pass a law. Outlaw the behavior and it will go away. Yeah, right.

   Social engineers can’t seem to grasp that human nature exists, and their well-intentioned legislation may punish it, but it won’t stop it.

   Sorry. Gravity, the sun rising in the east and the nature of an eleven year old boy are not affected by the law you pass.

   I raise this issue because back in the mid seventies, anti bullying legislation never occurred to anyone. Nor should it have.

   Back to the story. Neil continued with the harassment and the playground challenges, I continued with attempts at dodging him. He was making my life rougher than it should have been at my age. I remember sneaking out of school, hoping he wouldn’t see me leave. 

   And then something happened. I reached a breaking point and was pushed across a line that I didn’t know had been drawn.

   I had enough and tired of being pushed around, of the taunting and the laughter.

   I stood up and surprised even myself. Inside, I switched from prey to  predator. I was gunning for Neil; actually looking for him for the confrontation. I wanted it badly.

   I was brave but not stupid. I would probably get beat. It didn’t matter. There would be some pain involved, and maybe some blood (Hopefully, not an ambulance). I was ready for it, maybe could get a few shots in at least.  

   I was on the prowl to settle the score and it felt great! Let him sneak out of school. I was looking for him.

   As stated earlier, human nature is what it is. And the nature of bullies is cowardice. He was after me because I posed the least threat. He spouted off, knowing I’d retreat. And I did; for awhile.

   But when I turned around to face him, he went off to a less threatening target. He didn’t really want a confrontation, he needed attention.

   The whole point of this is; that well meaning politicians want to neutralize the bully. I would say “NO! Don’t!”

   If I ran across Neil today, I would shake his hand. He did a great service for me, although not crazy about it at the time.

   I needed to exit my shell and stand up. He helped me to do it. The following school years were much easier. I knew how to handle the reality of a challenger, meet him head on, as early as possible. He goes away, and I feel confident.

   Bullies serve a purpose. It is like the egg that a chick struggles against as it’s being hatched. It builds strength and stamina. If someone breaks the eggshell for the chick, then you have a weakened chick, unable to face adversities later. 
   We should avoid removing resistance so we can feel like a hero.  

    I’m not discounting the suicides reported. It is heartbreaking. But we need less social media and more confidence-building parents and home environments.

   Bullying is prevalent because the nature of social media is easily confrontational.

   It is not unlike the child labor laws that have been enacted. It was necessary when parents kept their kids home to work the fields.

   We are not the agrarian society that we were at one time. Now these same laws prevent a sixteen year old from having a job at a fast food restaurant. He may work a four hour shift behind a counter, not sixteen in the fields.

   He will learn to communicate with people of all ages, serve with a humble attitude, and learn to listen and take instruction. He may even empty the stinky trash. But he won’t die.

   It is not the government’s role to protect citizens from necessary and beneficial experiences simply because an over-protective nanny bureaucrat begins to fret.

   These same well-intentioned motives will deprive him of experience, a work ethic and pride that comes from having money earned legitimately.

   We now have a generation who feel the need to do very little because of this coddling.

   Beware of feel good solutions that prove to be ultimately stupid. We don’t need to feel good all the time. A little discomfort can be good for growth and our character.

  

  

   

The Hitch Hiker

   Those of us with a sound mind know we operate in the realm of reality. We are aware of the environment around us, the dangers, the opportunities, rhythm, ebb and flow of the world we live in.

   On occasion, a reality pokes through the veil of my perception of the world. I’m reminded the circles I run in, are but a sub-division of a much larger world with realities that I’m aware of, but don’t think much about.

   This happened to me early Thursday morning. It was late when I was driving home from work. Actually, it was early, three or three thirty in the morning. I saw a guy on the side of the road thumbing for a ride. I didn’t see him until beside him. Moving too fast to stop, I kept driving.

   But regret followed when I noticed the way his head and shoulders sank as he realized yet another car had no intention of stopping. At this time of day, alcohol was probably involved and a wild story as well. NOBODY would be giving this dude a ride. I did a U turn.

   I pulled the truck to the shoulder in front of him. As he approached, I saw him hesitate a little, to see if it was a legitimate offer or getting him to jog up and then drive off. He later told me a few pulled that gag on him.

   His name was Eddie; he was a middle-aged guy, medium build and height and dressed typical for Florida with tank top and shorts. He carried his flip-flops because they broke from so much walking.

   We made casual conversation. His car broke down and had to walk for three hours trying to get a ride. Relieved to find him a normal guy. I’ll admit a voice in my head kept asking why the truck was stopping, was I nuts, did I want to be on the news? etc. Now I was glad I ignored it.

   We talked about how in years gone by, if one needed a ride, stick out that thumb, wait five minutes, and you’d be on your way. I’ve done it often. But the world has changed, and folks are reluctant to trust strangers. I’m not sure if it’s more crazy people in the world, or just more news coverage of them.

   As we talked about general things, he mentioned he served in the military. I thanked him for his service and inquired of the details. I don’t believe he would have told any of this had I not asked. He wasn’t the type to bloviate.

   He served four deployments in Afghanistan and Iraq. He told me he literally shed tears as they moved into Baghdad and witnessed the suffering under that loon Hussein. He went on to relate that he served as a sniper, with twenty-six kills to his credit.

   I’ve heard for every terrorist killed by a sniper, it's considered to be eight to ten lives prevented from being lost.

   I congratulated him on his success. I never met a war hero before. But he was less than proud and grateful.  He told me about his friend Mack, who trained with him, they were together for years. Mack gave him the coordinates on the target. He would inform Eddie if it was a hit or miss. The bad part was Mack actually witnessed the kills. Eddie said he couldn’t always see but Mack could. Mack was a great friend but had issues after the war. He struggled with things he’d seen that he couldn’t forget. He never got back to his full potential after the bloodshed he witnessed.

   “I just hope that God can forgive me.” Ed said softly. 
    I told him of the statistics I heard about, of the lives he prevented the loss of, and they now had kids and grandkids. Literally, hundreds of people were alive because of his service to the country.

   It seemed like great encouragement to me but he stared out the window at the closed businesses and darkened homes passing by.

  “They had families too.” was his only reply.

   Having the privilege of being a spectator in the arena and not a participant, I wanted to say “Well, one shouldn’t attack a Superpower if family well-being is a concern.” But I didn’t. It wasn’t a political thing, but human suffering. It hurt, and I had no authority to comment, even if its purpose was support.

   Ed continued and told me of four failed marriages and a girlfriend he was on the brink of losing. With anger issues, he was unable to maintain a good relationship. His haunting past stole any contentment he might have.

   You may pass Eddie on the street someday. You won’t look twice. He doesn’t stand out, just a face in the crowd.

   I wonder how many other people I pass in my travels, who carry around a burden that lingers forever, haunting and harassing their lives.

   We all struggle with various issues, complain about how hard we work, our jerk boss and taxes that never seem to stop.

   Life isn’t easy. But after my encounter with Eddie, I am embarrassed to whine. Bad drivers and long lines at the store are laughable in comparison to what my tortured friend deals with daily. It ends with the newscast for most of us; but others carry it for years afterward.

   Our troops deserve our support. They have witnessed hellish nightmares that haunt them long after they come home. Part of me is embarrassed for not having served, the other part is eternally grateful.