I think back through my life to everybody that I owe, I mean the ones that I can remember in person. Of course I know that I owe these folks and they owe some other people and these are in debt to others and all of us owe everybody, but the amount that we owe is all that we have.
--Woody Guthrie "People I Owe," as read by Peter Glazer on
"Til We Outnumber 'EmI’ve been writing this in my head for a couple months now, and started the blog post a couple days before flying to NC—just transcribing the Woody Guthrie quotation above and started writing in on the cross-country flight. Now it's the night before my first day of class and I need to finish.
This is an important point in my life, I’m starting a new chapter, so to speak. I recognize that getting to where I am today—starting a Ph.D. program at one of the best universities in the country—is an important achievement. It is important to me to acknowledge that I could not have gotten here were it not for countless people whose support has made it possible.
That may seem an obvious point, but I think it touches upon a divergence of perspectives about the relationship of the individual and the community. In our culture we like to individualize achievement: what a person accomplishes is solely (or at least primarily) a result of her abilities and how hard she works. This conveniently upholds the status quo—the world is mostly just, don’t try to fix it. Thus it has the benefit of allowing a person to be primarily concerned with taking care of herself. It’s also out of touch with reality, but that doesn’t seem to phase some people.
Of course I’m not arguing that there’s no relationship between working hard and “success,” though it suffices to say that there are billions of people in the Third World who do more work in a month than Paris Hilton will probably do in her entire life. I fully recognize that my choice to study while others partied was an essential part of getting into UNC. But I’ve also been blessed with so much more in my life than I’ll ever know and I wanted to try to acknowledge that. It’s like my make-believe Oscar speech or something.
So, I guess I’m obliged to start by thanking God. I try to avoid theology, so I’ll just say I’m thankful for everything She’s done for me, and that I have no idea how much that is. I’m hedging and moving on.
Of course the parents come next. For one thing they brought me into the world and that bit’s somewhat vital. I’m forever grateful for all the ways they’ve supported me with their love, time and money. I think everyone has a day when he realizes there’s no way he can possibly pay his parents back and that he’ll just have to get over it… Substitute teaching really drove home for me the point of how important parents are, and made me grateful that mine were so involved in my life, cared about me, treated me with respect, read to me, etc.
Of course family is more than parents. I'm closer to my sister than any other person and her faith in me has helped me not only persevere but flourish. My grandparents both instilled in me the value of education. I remember my grandma helping me do my homework in 2nd grade when I was visiting from Alaska. My grandfather was the first member of his family to graduate from high school and wore a borrowed suit to the ceremony. His interest in politics and history rubbed off on me. One of my fondest memories is watching the Iran-Contra hearings with him.
My extended family has been awesome as well. The Armstrongs and the Shaners (including Harry and Alice--family isn't just blood) have been great. I know the only way I can ever repay them is to try to be a great uncle (no pressure Annie), or first cousin once removed.
"If you can read this thank a teacher," is probably one of the most effective bumper stickers ever, and I thank mine, for, among other things, being able to write this blog entry. From my kindergarten teachers at Seward Elementary and the Montessori school in Berkeley (taught us about other parts of the world and MLK) to all my teachers at Fire Lake Elementary: Mr. Fay (did a snake oil salesman pitch for the word "and" and let us do math at our own pace), Mrs. Hulse (had us sing and taught me to write in cursive, something I no longer do out of compassion for my readers), Mrs. Stevens (now Johnson, taught us to use a dictionary and had us write our model community), Mrs. Huff (my first research project), Mr. Hulse (sing-alongs and the Voyage of the Mimi) to Mrs. Flanders at Rodgers Park (the first class to ever challenge me) I had an excellent elementary education.
I had a bunch of teachers middle school and high school, and I'm grateful to all of them for their hard work, but I'd like to mention a few. First, Mr. Sampson, the music teacher, who I had for band (7th and 8th) and choir (8th). My work with him was the solid foundation of my musical education, and even though I no longer play sax or sing in choir, I wouldn't be half the musician I am today without him. Mr. Thompson, science both years, was an excellent teacher and taught be that it's possible to be both cool and smart. Ms. Reed pressed upon me the need to organize my writing (something I do a better job of in my more formal writing, I promise...). Special thanks to Mr. Locastro for taking a 7th grader in his Algebra class. Thanks to all my high school teachers, but especially to Ms. Conrey (for letting an 8th grader take her Geometry class), Mr. Holland (World History), Ms. Baxter (Spanish), Ms. Given, Mr. Shipley, Ms. MacKenzie, and Ms. Prezeau (all English), Mr. Weiss (Chemistry), Mr. Klassen (Band), Mr. Clawson (Choir).
In college I had many great professors at Willamette, but my main mentors were Bob Dash (Politics), Jerry Gray (Economics), Sally Markowitz (Philosophy) Bill Smaldone (History), Patricia Varas (Spanish), and Charlie Wallace (Chaplain). Thanks to the entire Politics Department for its support, even faculty I never had in class (especially Joe Bowersox, who taught me more than some people I actually had classes from...). Thanks also to Cherie Lenzen and Jane Curlin at Student Academic Grants and Awards for help applying for scholarships (one of which I somehow got) and to the Grants and Awards Committee for all their work, especially all those mock interviews. Thanks also to all the folks at the Truman Foundation for their support and guidance.
The teachers and professors can only do the work they do because of the often invisible work of many others. So hats off to the people who drove my school busses, worked in the lunchroom, cleaned the floors, etc. Of course that wouldn't be possible without the people who made the roads and buses, harvested the food and made the cleaning supplies and the taxpayers who paid for it all (okay, since much of my education was in Alaska I feel the need to explicitly thank the oil companies for their royalties--which also helped pay for college in the form of the Permanent Dividend. There I said it.) I guess I'll also thank the Natives whose land we stole and now drill for oil, though it seems odd for a thief to thank his victim. So maybe I'll just say I hope some of my life's work, made possible in part by your loss, helps your struggle for justice. So, in the end, I need to thank my entire community.
I dodged the question of thanking God, but I feel no such ambivalence about thanking the church. Indeed, if I had to reduce this to a sound bite I'd say "Family, School, Church," even if that sounds similar to fascist slogans of times past... At each church where my mom served there were so many people who cared about me and took an interest in me (I don't know how much of this was because I was the pastor's kid and how much was simply because I was a kid, or even--yes Mom--because some people take a particular liking to me), but it was amazing. In Seward there were the Campbells and the Husses. In Chugiak the Lowes, the Roberts, Zanah Dalman and so many others. In San Jose the Ramseys, Michael Cala, Esther Jakel, and Lyn Collyer. In Whitefish the DeValls and in Worland Tom Harrington. In Manteca there were the Browns, the Lingenfelters, the Parsons, the Karnes, and so many others.
Lastly I want to thank Heather and Joel for meeting my plane and letting me crash with them and hooking me up with my apartment and Denise for welcoming me to NC.
I'm sure I've forgotten people, but the nice thing about blogs is when I remember I can add them...
Labels: life, reflections
