The Storm

We got snowed in the day after Christmas.  Our cars couldn't move for three days.  We spent time with the neighbors, the people we hadn't seen since the block party three months before.  We had no time deadlines.  Thankfully, we still had 4G service while shoveling!

School Daze

After a few years, public education almost numbed me into retirement.  I stopped playing guitar, journaling, skiing, surfing and studying.  With every hoop that the Board of Education threw at me, I went in cold, striving for the minimum.  They never had a bearing on being in front of a classroom, only designed by someone who never taught or was looking for a promotion.  I always felt an outsider in the system but grew comfortable with the increasing paycheck and summer vacations.  In coasting, bureaucracy (I always have to look up the spelling) finally caught up and spit me out of the system.  The manner was underhanded and disheartening.  It should and will be challenged, but it awakened me and I can now venture outside again: explore, learn, and find new experiences.



Then it took me back!  I arrived at the hearing to a preemptive deal that would restore my position with a reevaluation after one year with some questionable stipulations.  With fresh perspective and a clear set of goals, I can be an effective teacher for the time I will be working.  The job is a means to an end with the perks of a solid department to work within, and continued access to the pool and basketball courts. 

Local Economies

I am reading a fascinating investigative story, "The Snakehead" by Patrick Radden Keefe, on the Fujienese human smuggling and gang enterprises in Chinatown from the 1980's and 90's and just realized something.  We are known as a nation of immigrants and each person I have ever met in the states (except one Navajo student I had out in Utah years ago) can trace just a few generations back to ancestors from some distant land.  We expanded west.  We built the railroads.  We produced a myriad of products in factories throughout the country.  We cultivated our Great Plains.  All using the near limitless supply of cheap, immigrant labor.  We all know this.

We have such a vast country in terms of geography and ethnicity with some very lenient immigration laws, that people can come in, licitly or illicitly, and be absorbed and protected by their communities and the law. This may not be the case anymore.  There is a major shift in the last twenty to thirty years.  Many of the low paying factory jobs that abundantly hired the new arrivals have been closed down and outsourced. "Free Trade" economics is catching up to us.  Countries that have adopted the mantra are often de-stablized and atrocious working conditions force more people to leave.  Look at the Mexican border!  We do not know what to do with the extras.  Our incarceration rate and number has sky-rocketed.  Our health care system, via emergency room care (the defacto insurance plan of the poor), is an economic drain.

There are times in our history when we do not welcome immigrants all that much.  They are usually times of economic recession.  The echo chamber resonates, "if we do not have jobs, than why should someone else come to America and take them?"  One argument that I always used was to try to find a 17-year old, middle class suburbanite to work 12 hours a day doing dishes in the back of a restaurant.  Years ago, I lost a gas station job because the new owner got rid of all the high school kids and hired a group of Indian guys for half the wage and three times the hours.  Home run for the owner.  Right now, with a deep recession, we are not too fond of newcomers and kids still can not (and are not willing to) get those simple wage jobs.  They seem to say, it's alright, my mom will use her credit card with the terrible interest rate to buy me the new iphone.

The beacon light is still on.  People are still coming and I do not blame them.  Our world image is still showing that we are the place of opportunity.  This is still true, though statistically less and less a reality.  People see where their resources and goods are shipped to. If they are in a war torn region, it is better to be on the side of the bomber then be bombed.  They have communities here that can ease the transition.

We are in a bind.  The way I see it, we have some options.  We can continue with the Israeli approach, which is to build big fences along the Mexican border and continue  what we are doing and we all can buy cheap goods at the big box stores.  Or..we can create jobs here in the states and use our massive PR machine to convince people to buy local.  Communities can build out local economies.  It will not happen quickly and it may not be pleasant.  Big business will not be happy.  We depend too much on things from too far away.  The most interesting part of the tale of the Chinese community is how successful they have been at building a parallel economy right smack in the middle of New York City - legal and illegal.  How many have taken the Fung Wa bus to Washington DC?


In reference to the Israel comment, I read an interesting take on the Israel/Palestine conflict.  During the seventies and eighties, they had a lull in their conflict because the cheap labor that Palestine provided Israel, it gave a sense of normalcy.  Supply and demand.  When the Soviet Union collapsed,  there was huge influx of Russian Jews that entered Israel and took the low wage jobs.  Israel did not need the Palestine work force anymore, but did not know what to do with them.  The people from Gaza and the West Bank became restless because they lost their jobs and did not have the ability to look elsewhere.  Since then, Israel built huge walls around them and they continue to lob bombs in each direction.  The situation just worsens.  I say, "two states", so Palestine can create their own economy.

The Powerlines

My childhood neighborhood is surrounded by woods thanks to large powerlines that pass along the north and a golf course through some wooded property to the west. As has always been true, if I had free time, I would be outside rather than in. After school I would race out the front door with no intentions of returning until the streetlights turned on. At that moment, I would sprint, bike, or, for a brief time, skate back to the house for dinner dropping what ever I was doing until the next day.

There were two groups that I hung out with throughout gradeschool. The regular neighborhood crew played sports depending on the professional sports season. Basketball was on my driveway; football was generally played across the street at Billy's; hockey was played on the cul-de-sac in front of Lou's; and wiffleball eventually ended up in the Liotti's back yard with the outfield measurements posted on the far fence. When picking teams, I was always in the middle of the order never having the grit or swagger needed to be the star on the field, but never left out either, with the unfortunate exception of baseball. Byron and Chris composed of the other group. They never joined the regular games and periodically would get into fights with the neighborhood guys who were trying to display that swagger.

Byron, Chris and I would head further and further into the woods creating challenges depending on what was offered. We would collect tadpoles and attempt to raise them in an aquarium in one of the back yards. We would choose trees in close proximity with enough sway to climb one and transfer to the other at the top. Sometimes we would find one that bent enough so we could climb to the top and parachute down to the ground. We would build campfires. Once, we found a large piece of styrofoam floating in one of the ponds and sculpted it into a canoe to traverse the cold waters of late autumn. We would shimmy along the banks of the chilly water using what we could grab to keep from falling in. Sometimes one of us would fall and that would start the trek back to the bright manicured lawns of our homes. In those expanding woods, each trip would reveal something new.

Drinks and the fumbling pursuit of girls supplanted those adventures in high school and in through college. With the exception of my winter season passes at Sunday River, I remained in that fog.  Now, periodic ventures into the woods are a psychological necessity.

Avatar

I am late to this one.  We just watched the movie.  We both separately realized why it did not win the Academy Award for Best Picture.  It was a wonderful movie and deserved all of the acclaim.  It made a clear stand against the misguided foreign policy of war for resources regardless of the indigenous culture and ecosystem, its empty diplomacy, and the impatience and disbelief of genuine scientific research.  Where as, The Hurt Locker only addressed and sympathized with the plight of the soldier without commenting on the question or motives of war.  The latter is extremely important and crosses through political boundaries.

Iraq, Afghanistan, Somalia, Nigeria, Iran, Ecuador and many more are all subject to a super-power's need for more resources than it has.  Until we address the power of the corporation over the people it doesn't matter which country is the superpower.