September

September

September is perhaps the cruelest month; it marks not only the end of summer but the beginning of the school year. While many students look forward to their new schedules, fall often brings increased anxiety, especially for high school students.

 It’s been fifty years since I started high school. I was reminded of that this summer when I attended a Monkees concert at Ottawa’s Bluesfest. Two of the remaining group members (heartthrob Davy Jones died in 2012) are in the midst of their fiftieth anniversary tour.

I was a Monkees fan. In 1966, my Grade 9 year, The Monkees were a new music group with their own television show. Over it’s two year run, nothing could come between that show and me. Their posters plastered my bedroom walls. Daydream Believer? Like millions of fans, I day-dreamed constantly about Davy Jones.

On a beautiful July night I biked along the Ottawa River to this summer’s concert. Memories of riding my bike along that same path, as a teen, prompted all kinds of comparisons. It is the same path, along the same river, but I’m different from top to bottom. My curly blonde hair is now straight and gray.  My runners, like all my shoes, have orthotics. Even the name of the path has changed. For over forty years it was The Ottawa River Parkway. However, like a number of Ottawa landmarks, it was renamed during the Harper regime and is now The Sir John A. MacDonald Parkway.

At the concert venue I stopped to chat with a couple of female police officers. Now there’s a wonderful improvement from my high school days. The idea of female police officers was unheard of back then.

The concert started with ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ and I was instantly transported back to my Grade 9 bedroom with my LP playing on my red and white plastic record player. From my vantage point at the concert I could see the stage and screen but my attention was drawn to the sea of music lovers walking by me to other concerts in the park that night. That parade was far more interesting than anything on the stage.

In the 60’s your hair colour was whatever grew out of your head. Many of the people who passed by me that night were sporting red, blue, purple, green or striped hair.

Clothes are another story. In those days we were mortified if a bra strap was showing. Now bra straps are part of the outfit. Or not. That night I watched vulnerable young girls, looking uncomfortable as they yanked up their strapless tops. Their shorts left little to the imagination.

In spite of Women’s Lib, feminist studies, and talk of gender equality over the last 50 years, many young women feel they have to display so much skin. Back in the sixties, Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech. In part it reads, ”I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.” If only today’s young women were confident enough to be judged by their character, their talents and abilities, as opposed to the amount of skin they expose.

So here we are, in another school year. Teens enter high school, nervous about their new surroundings, their teachers, the demands of the high school curriculum, their friends. Back in my day The Monkees provided me with a wonderful escape from those realities. Watching their show, listening to their songs, gazing at their posters ...that was easier than worrying about friends, pimples and my unmanageable curly hair.

The opportunity to follow teen idols is so much easier today. What would I have done to keep myself away from the constant temptation of the internet and social media overload concerning today’s stars?

Today’s teens face substantially more pressure than I did in 1966. Thank goodness I did not have to keep up my image on Facebook, Instagram or Snapchat. Kids may have talked about me behind my back but I never found out about it. Photos were something you took with a film and then waited a couple of weeks to come back in the mail. There was no danger of someone taking my photo and posting it for the world to see.

Images of war were in my history books, not in real time on my cell phone. For me, war was something that had happened in Europe, a long time ago. There was no knowledge of mass shootings, suicide bombings or random acts of violence.

So my heart goes out to today’s students, especially those starting at new schools. I hope they can find a balance between doing schoolwork, spending time with family and friends, following their idols and developing their talents. I hope they can learn to discern what’s important and real. I hope they’ll be lucky like me and get fifty years after high school, with family and friends to keep them company.

What did you do on your summer holidays?

Remember going back to school and having to write about your summer holidays? Over the past few months I have considered writing about many events in my very ordinary, but busy life. Here are a few ideas knocking around in my small brain:

How did we get this old? In July we celebrated our 40th anniversary - lucky us! We were married on the opening day of the Montreal Olympics. This summer we celebrated the occasion a few times. Our favourite was a weekend at a cottage with our kids and grandchildren. They prepared a spectacular dinner for us. We're so glad we could spend some time altogether and look forward to  being together again, on Thanksgiving weekend.

September 21st was World Alzheimer's Day. My sister-in-law, Jan, died in June,  of complications from Alzheimers. She was only 69. Her loss; the initial, gradual loss and now this final farewell, is very sad. We are now journeying with her mother, as she follows a similar path. In August she was hospitalized, had surgery and then moved. As we work to provide her with the best care possible, we often feel stressed with the many challenges we face. Underneath all the details is a  sense of sadness, as we experience the gradual loss of the person we knew.

I could write about funerals and expressions of sympathy. It's always interesting how people respond or don't respond, when you experience a loss. We have appreciated every card, every greeting, every morsel of food that has been offered to us since Jan's death. In the weeks after her funeral we received letters from four different cousins, all recounting stories of Jan's childhood or adolescence. To receive handwritten letters in this day and age is a wonderful novelty. To hear anecdotes about a departed loved one is a real gift. I've come to realize that it really doesn't matter if you dash off that sympathy card in the first week after a friend experiences a loss. Those first weeks after a death are so busy, you don't really have time to appreciate all the cards. Those sent a month or two later actually get more attention.

Then there was our trip to Nova Scotia. The Cabot Trail was as spectacular as ever, Too bad we didn't plan that trip out farther in advance. Did we really think all those Bed and Breakfast places were just sitting idle, waiting for us? Turns out we were part of a huge wave of tourists in the area. The bonus of this visit was having Brendan as our tour guide.

Food - Although I hate facing the end of summer, I have to admit that this is the best time of year for eating. We are lucky enough to live close to an outdoor market. It's a pleasure to be able to buy fresh produce from the people that actually grow it. I know that we are paying a bit more than in the grocery stores but I'd rather support these people who are out there, in all kinds of weather, all day long. I will spend enough time in boring grocery stores the rest of the year. You simply cannot beat the taste of the corn that we get there!

The U.S. election - Happily, we were at a cottage with no TV during the Republican Convention so we didn't hear any of those speeches. The following week we were back home and watched a lot of the Democratic Convention. Call me corny, but hearing so many of those speeches restored my faith in the U.S. There were some truly inspiring  messages. Two of my favourites were from Rev. William Barber, President of the North Carolina NAACP, and  Khzir Khan, the father of a U.S. Muslim soldier. who was killed in combat.The calibre of these speakers is simply outstanding.

And yet last night, I heard a political commentator say that in tonight's debate, if Trump is even able to string together a few coherent sentences, he will have had a great night!? It's an unbelievable situation. It's going to be an interesting evening for sure.

Of course no comment on my summer can escape some notice about our adorable grandchildren. We feel so fortunate to have them in our lives. On our most recent visit we went for a "night walk" with them. Actually it was a bike (trike) ride. There is simply nothing to match the joy and wonder of experiencing a child's happiness. I loved walking behind Avery and watching him happily biking along and then stopping to jump three or four times in every puddle we came across. There are no commercials for that, no way to plan it out, but those everyday experiences with a young child are priceless.

So, I may go back and explore some of these ideas in more detail later. Or not. For now, I will post something I wrote about September, Grade Nine angst, and the Monkees.

Gone Fishin'

I'm sorry. This is so lame. Even though it's summer, life has been busy and not conducive to writing. That being said, I am totally enjoying travels and visits with family and friends. In September, when life returns to normal, I'll write more regularly. Thanks for checking this space. I wish you well as summer continues.

Violence all over

Ever since high school I have watched the evening newscast. As a teen I watched it with my parents, back in the days of Stanley Burke and Knowlton Nash. Even though I usually have the radio on during the day, I still want to see the faces in the news at the end of the day. Many people say it's a lousy way to end your day. Last night I was thinking that maybe they're right. It really does get discouraging.


I found it very moving to listen to Dr. Brian Williams of Parkland Memorial Hospital who worked to save police officers' lives after they were shot in Dallas last week. (It's a tragic coincidence that it was the same hospital where JFK was taken after he was shot in Dallas all those years ago.)

It was heart-wrenching to listen to this doctor speak of both his experience as a young black man with police and also his experience as a doctor witnessing the aftermath of violence. "I abhor what has been done to these officers and I grieve with their families. .....They are not the problem......This killing, it has to stop." If only people would listen to this wise man. The Dallas police chief was equally compelling. At one point he stated that police officers are called on to do too much, to solve societal ills that they are ill-equipped to solve. As examples he mentioned issues arising from financial shortfalls to mental illness and drug addiction progammes. I think he's right. Politicians would do well to heed his words.

Then there were a  few other items in the newscast..problems and conflicts in Iran, South Sudan, and the Ukraine.

Then came the item that really got to me. It was about MMA (mixed martial arts) and the sale of the UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) yesterday.   Apparently it is the biggest sports deal ever. UFC was sold for 4 billion dollars. It has the  largest pay per view audience in the world; 1.1billion households in 156 countries.  The item closed with talk of future plans to bring it to  Hollywood,  to promote these "athletes", for them to make the crossover to tv and movies. A loftier goal was to perhaps bring it to the Olympics.

Really?! How can the States, how can the world ever think to resolve issues of violence when billions of people all over the world are willing to pay to watch it? There's not enough violence with wars all over the globe, with mass shootings everywhere, that they pay to watch more of it? I simply do not understand what people are thinking. When I think of the violence that permeates our culture I want to weep for my grandchildren. I hope they don't start watching the news for a very long time. I sure don't want to be the one to try to explain what is happening.

Canada Day publication

Tonight CBC's The National featured various stories of refugees settling in to Canada. In keeping with that theme, I was pleased to have the following piece published in today's Canada Day version of The Ottawa Sun.

June 20th was World Refugee Day.  Ottawa marked the event at City Hall as part of Welcoming Ottawa Week. “Welcoming Ottawa Week is a wonderful platform for us to reflect on Ottawa’s current and historic welcome to refugees and newcomers, while showcasing our genuine respect for the courage and strength newcomers demonstrate in overcoming tremendous obstacles to join our community,” said Ottawa Mayor Jim Watson.

Perhaps he should talk with an employee I encountered at a local store that day. While grocery shopping I suddenly became aware of a loud conversation. A cashier was talking to a customer. “Well I hope Trump gets in. We can’t have Clinton. Imagine how many refugees she’ll bring in. Trudeau has let so many in here.”

 It’s one thing to follow news reports about Trump’s speeches, but to have someone spouting his rhetoric right in front of me was disturbing. My inner voice told me to walk away but, like watching a train wreck, I couldn’t leave.

“Take Sandy Hook “ she continued, turning her attention to a couple of fellow employees, “ If those teachers had been armed, we would have had a different result. It’s not guns that kill, it’s people who kill people.  Did you know that ISIL has sent 40,000 trained radicals all over the world? How many of them are here in Canada?”

Still reeling from her verbiage, I left and got into my car. Suddenly I was on a completely different wavelength. In honour of World Refugee Day, CBC radio’s All In A Day was airing an interview with Kaylee Brennan    and Raphael Cuestas.  Brennan works at Matthew House, which provides assistance to refugees. Cuestas is a volunteer there and a former client. The interview was exactly what I needed in order to restore my faith in humanity. Here was a refugee who is now working at two jobs. He regularly donates 10% of his salary to Matthew House so that other refugees can be helped.

The following day I attended an ESL drop-in group for Syrian refugees,  organized by the Catholic Centre for Immigrants. I spent my afternoon sitting around a table with four Syrian men. One of them is a pharmacist who has already obtained a driver’s license, a car and a job. When I remarked that he must have studied English in Syria, he told me that he never spoke English before coming to Canada four months ago. Upon his arrival he studied for sixteen hours a day. I asked what topics they’d like to cover: money, food or body parts. How difficult and humbling to have to start from zero. We started with the names of coins and focused on the pronunciation of words like quarter and forty.  (Why do those t’s sound like d’s?) We talked about the differences between chin and shin, cheek and cheque. We enjoyed a laugh over chest and breast. “At the store do I buy chicken chest?”

The room was hot and crowded with loud construction noise coming from the apartment overhead. At the end of  two hours I was ready for a break and I wasn’t the one who had to concentrate and practise pronunciation in a foreign language.

The troubling conversation in the grocery store is a distant memory but unfortunately only a small example of the current climate of fear around immigration. On a much larger scale we have the momentous Brexit decision. How much of that was fuelled by a similar fear: of immigrants, of those who are unfamiliar to us. Speaking from my experience as an ESL teacher and volunteer, I admire the stamina and courage of these families who are struggling to make a new life for themselves in Canada.

As we celebrate Canada Day and reflect on our past, present and future, I think about my own ancestors. They were all poor people who came to this country from Ireland, England and the Ukraine. They worked hard and contributed to the development of Canada.  I choose to believe that these newcomers will do the same.

Summer

Ah, summer! There are peonies in the garden and swim suits on the clothesline; it doesn't get much better than that.

Yesterday we went for our first outdoor swim of the year. It was heaven; warm water and even a heron who landed near us, to provide visual entertainment. What a perfect way to celebrate the first official day of summer.

The summer solstice always reminds me of our time in Exeter, Ontario. We lived there from 1976 to 1979. Those three years, in small town, rural Ontario, were a special time. The friendliness of the people more than made up for some of the  big city  conveniences that we missed.

On June 20th of 1977, I was a desperate teacher in need of a movie. We were nearing the end of the school year and I was trying to keep my Grade 7 and 8 class occupied. In those days you could order movies from your local public library. The order went to a much bigger branch library, (probably Stratford) and they sent it out. The movies were on those big metal reels and were shown on the school projector.

I had placed my order but had forgotten to pick it up. At the end of the school day, while writing my daybook for the next day, I suddenly realized my mistake. I had been counting on showing the movie the following morning. It was almost 5 pm, closing time at the library.  Thankfully, the town librarian, Elizabeth Schroeder, answered my frantic phone call. She assured me that my movie reels had arrived. I told her that there was no way I could walk over to the library before her closing time.

It's funny what my small brain forgets and remembers. Somehow I can still recall her cheery reply,
"Don't you worry about that. Isn't it the longest day of the year?  Surely I can stay here until you arrive. Let's just make the most of this long sunny day."

Here's to friendly folks, summer and long sunny days!

Ottawa Citizen Article

After quite a hiatus I'm happy to have a piece in today's Ottawa Citizen. I wrote it to try to promote the idea of Ottawa's Giveaway Weekend, which takes place this weekend. It's a great recycling idea that needs more publicity. I was also happy to promote a couple of Ottawa charities which deliver furniture to needy families. In the piece I mention my prize from last year's  Giveaway Weekend. It's a great camp kitchen that was in this battered box.

Here's a link to the piece.

http://ottawacitizen.com/opinion/columnists/kot-dont-throw-that-useful-item-out-its-giveaway-weekend-in-ottawa
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