Fulghum Fridays

In high school, I had an incredible English teacher named Mr. Gardner. This man epitomized what and who I wanted to be as a teacher, and as a man in many respects. In my mind, I could see my Teach For America self being a Mr. Gardner-esque English Language Arts teacher in some Kansas City middle school. That vision is gone for now, delayed by a redirection that gives me angst even though I know it is the right thing to do.

Anyway, Mr. Gardner was in love with Robert Fulghum. Perhaps it was his writing style, his tongue-in-cheek (but honest to God) way of pointing out life lessons, or perhaps it was just a personal indulgence. Whatever caused Mr. Gardner's love, I am grateful for it. The best days were Fulghum Fridays, when Mr. Gardner would use the last five minutes of class to share a bit of Fulghum wisdom with us. The worst days, by the way, were the nights before and mornings of the days that papers were due. True story. Since today is Friday, I'm going to share some Fulghum with you. Two years in that classroom convinced me of the greatness and inspiration that comes from such a man. Mr. Gardner knew his stuff. Robert Fulghum knew his stuff. It was a perfect combination.

If you want to read more Fulghum, simply go to robertfulghum.com. Buy all his books on Amazon. You won't regret it. Here's a little sample from a post entitled, "In the Middle of the Middle."

Being alive is not a destination, it’s a place on a moving bus.

You will always have more questions than answers.

You will never get yourself or the world all figured out.

You will never ever really know what other people think about you.

You will never ever really understand what you think about yourself.

And -You are not as alone as you think, but it always seems that way.

In the words of Mr. Gardner, "Have a great weekend! Don't do anything stupid!" Happy Fulghum Friday!

Anxiety

Anxiety: Distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune. In psychiatry, a state of apprehension and psychic tension occurring in some forms of mental disorder.

Anxiety puts you in a dark place, a nervous place. A place where I can't breathe, can't focus, and can't be still. I get massive attacks every time I go to my parents' ward. True story. The people there stress me the junk out. Mostly just Elders' Quorum, actually. Holy Moses. Not healthy.

Anyway, anxiety destroys my ability to maintain a level head in a lot of situations. Couple anxiety with depression, and life gets all kinds of messy. 

Anxiety is a sense of foreboding bad; depression is a feeling of saddened reflection and contemplation of the past. Both can hit at any time, even simultaneously. Talk about a double pile-drive to the sense of self. 

Anxiety makes it hard to keep and maintain close relationships with others. This in turn makes living in Mormon culture about 1000 times worse. You want to talk about unhealthy, anxiety inducing pressures? Try talking to a single Mormon who isn't married, engaged, or dating about any combination of those things. That'll sure as hell launch someone into an anxiety attack. 

Interestingly enough, Mormons have unusually high amounts of reported anxiety and depression. We are not mentally stable people sometimes. Why? Because we have this idea of perfection and being saved by grace, "after all we can do." So, we go crazy! We forget what grace means! That'll be another post. We do 3 hours of church, fulfill church assignments, run kids to piano/violin/dance/German lessons/tutoring, try to do home evenings, home teaching, visiting teaching, and then still leave feeling that we haven't done enough. So, we cook 10 casseroles for the 5 ladies in our ward who just gave birth, throw extravagant book club or weight loss parties, and try every bit to look like we have everything together. In reality, a lot of us can barely keep things together for a day. And so, we self-medicate with Women's Conference, porn, or over-religiosity. Anxiety. Freak.

As a result, my newest life goal is to write a book called All My Friends are Emotionally Unstable. 

The End of the Hipocrisy Merit Badge

From: scoutsforequality.spreadshirt.com

On NBC's "The New Normal," David discusses the powerful impact of Boy Scouts on his life and decides to chaperone an overnight camping trip. His partner, Bryan, has qualms about this because the Boy Scouts "kick out more gay men than the Mormon Tabernacle Choir." Despite these misgivings, David decides to go and Bryan retorts, "Maybe you can earn your hypocrisy badge." Hence the title of this post.

23 May 2013 was a landmark day for the Boy Scouts of America. I don't care about your political leanings and personal biases. Any human being ought to be grateful that an organization whose purpose is to mold boys into men that contribute in positive ways to their society has decided that every boy should have that opportunity, regardless of orientation. Do I agree with everything the Boy Scouts do? No. I think some of the practices are a bit archaic, but I have seen the benefit of the ideals of Boys Scouts in my life. Have I used my wilderness survival skills to lash together a shelter out of pine bows since Scout Camp when I was 13? No. I didn't even touch the rifle shooting merit badge. Not my jam. However, the ideals espoused in the Scout Law -- being trustworthy, loyal, helpful...you can finish the rest -- have carried over into the goals I have set for my own life.

Allow me to address the "morally straight" bit. No, dear little people, this does not refer to one's sexuality. Never has. Never will. Get over it. Morality is, to quote Merriam Webster's Dictionary, "A doctrine or system of moral conduct." When the Scout Oath states that a Scout is morally straight, it means that he is honest and loyal to the system of moral conduct established by the ideals espoused in the Scout Law.

In other words, to be a Scout is to be trustworthy in every aspect of life; loyal to employers or family; helpful to those in need; friendly to one's associates, strangers, and the environment; courteous to women, children and other men; kind to his community, environment, and everyone around him; obedient to the laws of the country in which he resides (and respectful of those laws and leaders); cheerfully engaged in all aspects of life -- church, work, school, etc.; thrifty in one's finances and living within his means; brave enough to recognize one's own weaknesses and limits of understanding; clean physically, emotionally, and in deed; reverent in respecting one's God, nature, and the glory of human life.

That is what it means to be a morally straight Boy Scout. It's not just camp fires, leather working, and guns. Spoiler alert, I know. The ideals of Scouting go beyond that. They try to teach something higher. If you feel a problem with the Scout's democratic decision, I invite you to reevaluate what Scouting means to you. Have a moment of introspection. Ask whether or not you've earned yourself the hypocrisy merit badge. If so, throw it away. Hatred, bigotry, and hypocrisy have no place in Scouting. Every boy, however, does.

Note: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints supported the decision of the Boy Scouts of America. Here's what they had to say. 

I Did It All

I'M GRADUATING!!!!

Can I tell you how legitimately excited I am about this, despite my current "meh-ness" about the fact that I'm not technically done with schooling? Seriously. I'm done with my undergraduate career! No more GEs, no more dreadful English professors, no more 2-mile radius! Oh, blessed day!

As you read the rest of the post, please listen to the video at the bottom of the post. Why? 1) It's OneRepublic, 2) It's the theme of this post, 3) Just do it.

Reflecting on my BYU experience, there are a lot of thoughts that come to mind. In many ways, I feel like I did it all at BYU -- I experienced Jimmer-Mania, witnessed the Provo Tabernacle Fire and the subsequent transformation into the Provo City Center Temple, studied and worked in Romania and Mexico, hiked mountains, camped, climbed, watched football games, presented at academic conferences, single-handedly destroyed sexual freedom (long story associated with presenting at the conference), campaigned for the President of the United States, studied suffering, developed meaningful relationships with professors, shook  Cecil's hand, and claimed a permanent spot in the JFSB for studying. All in all, a pretty good four years.

This even with my disdain for all things Zoobie.


Hope that you spend your days, but they all add up. 

In my four years at BYU, my family has gained 2 brothers-in-law and one niece/grandchild. I take no credit for any of that...except for one brother-in-law...sort of...

In my four years at BYU, I have become more firmly rooted in my political ideology in part because of what I have learned about my religious convictions. In 2007, Senator Harry Reid spoke at BYU and said, "I am a Democrat because of my religion, not in spite of it." That has carried me through a lot.

In my four years at BYU, I have determined that my life will be one dedicated to helping those who have been dealt an unfair hand as a result of biology and environment. If sociology and my Mormonism have taught me anything, it is that such a mission is exactly what Christ would do. I may not know a whole lot, but I know that the course of life I am pursuing is what God wants and expects of me. I have gained that assurance in the last four years.

The only way you can know is give it all you have.

Perhaps the most meaningful thing I have done at BYU has been the work I did in Romania. It was redemptive. It was illuminating. My beautiful kids shape the way I view the world, the family, and my life choices. The little boy in the hospital reminds that someday, somehow, I can have a family. My little blue girl reminds me that happiness is found in loving someone else. My mischievous boy reminds that love ought not be conditional. My little girl in the hospital reminds me that God knows my kids, loves my kids, and has a place for them. My Romanian friends remind that faith, life changing faith, is worth any sacrifice. Romania left me with a desire to be a child with a mind. 

Perhaps the most remarkable thing that has occurred in my time at BYU has been the ways in which I've seen God direct and redirect my life. I initially started at BYU as a history teaching major. That lasted about as long as it took to walk out of the SWKT. Something wasn't right about that, despite my love for teaching, education, and history. After the mission, Political Science was the plan. Again, that lasted only as long as my time in Comparative Politics -- 1 week. While in Political Science, I took a Social Problems class taught by a man who would become one of my most solid supports and mentors for the next three years. Suddenly, I knew where I belonged. It wasn't in law, politics, or business. It was in sociology and social work. This was it, and God was good with that.

I feel like I was guided to apply for the jobs and experiences I did -- Camp K, Romania, and Teach For America. Interestingly, Heavenly Father thought that there was something better for me than Teach For America. I didn't understand it at the time, but I'm beginning to understand why I am staying at BYU for another two years. I'm understanding why I didn't go back to Romania when I was almost certain that I would. I'm beginning to understand that sometimes the things that God wants me to do defy all logic. 


BYU, it's been an interesting time. True story. And, that intrigue is going to continue for at least two more years. Am I thrilled about it? Not entirely. But, if the last four years are any indication, the next two will be pretty freaking amazing. 

A Beginning in an End

I'm graduating! Oh happy day! Praise the Lord!

My undergraduate career is drawing to a close, and I could not be happier. It's been a long time coming. Seriously. My time at BYU has been good. Yes, we've had our disputes, most of them revolving around the line between culture and truth. I think Brigham and I are ending this part of our lives on fairly amicable terms. Actually, there still may be some frenemy (friend+enemy) feelings left.

If you had asked me in October, November, or even early February what my plan was for my post-BYU life, I would have told you that I was going to Kansas City to teach middle school English Language Arts as a part of the 2013 Kansas City Teach For America Corps. Teach For America has been my dream since getting home from my mission, and that dream became a reality on 1 November 2012 when I was accepted as a part of the Corps. The decision to join the Corps came easily, especially after watching President Obama's historic reelection and listening to him call Americans to do more for each other.

In accordance with that decision, I enrolled in classroom management classes and dove into lesson plans, classroom organization ideas, and developing outcome goals for my future students. I took the PRAXIS, found a couple potential apartments, and had planned out my road trip back to the place that has become my second home. Side note: The PRAXIS = DEATH. I did, however, get a 190 out of 200, so I'm OK with that.

Then, in February, one of my best friends invited me to his wedding in Idaho. My parents were out of town for the weekend, so I had their house to myself. During and after the wedding, I found myself mulling over my life plans, goals, and desires. I knew what I wanted, but Heavenly Father thought it an opportune time to interject His thoughts. "Maybe you should reconsider going to graduate school at BYU," He said. "Hmph," said I. I was in a place where I had a lot of bio-psycho-social concerns and needs not being met or adequately dealt with. Realistically, I didn't want to deal with most of them. Vulnerability hangovers are not my thing, and everything Heavenly Father was suggesting I do required a lot of vulnerability.

When I returned to BYU, I was a bit angsty and incredibly frustrated about these redirections. I talked a lot of things over with a couple of my professors, both of which are incredible men and mentors. In the end, I had a decision to make. I needed to decided if I wanted to apply to BYU's School of Social Work and most likely accept the offer. Mind you, this was now almost a month past the application deadline. The admissions committee gave me a week to get ecclesiastically endorsed, write a letter of intent, secure three letters of recommendation, and apply for scholarships. Poop. Thus began one of the most stressful weeks of my life to date. On 15 February, I turned in my application. On 19 February, I found out that I had been officially accepted into the MSW program at BYU. Quickest turn around of my life.

I did not anticipate staying at BYU after graduation, let alone staying for an additional two years. In reality, I'm still kind of coming to terms with that idea. I'm not entirely sure why Heavenly Father thought it would be a good idea to stay here. And, no, it wasn't so that I could get married. Heavenly Father knows me too well to do that to me at this stage of my life. Staying at BYU has made less sense in the last month than any other option I have ever considered. Ugg. I do not get this omniscience business.

These next few days will be punctuated with endings -- the end of social theory class, the end of sitting through another terrible English lecture, the end of sociology classes, the end of finals as an undergrad. They are also many beginnings wrapped up in those punctuated endings. I'm beginning a hunt for housing outside the two-mile undergrad radius, I'm beginning work with my social work mentor, I'm beginning final preparations on manuscripts for publication, and I'm beginning to explore parts of my being that have long been kept silent. Those are some big beginnings.

In the end, this experience has been an exercise in faith. I'm not sure what is going to happen in the next two years, let alone the next few weeks and months. And sometimes, that's OK.

Les Miserables: It's Over. It's Done. And?

I've done it! I have completed the unabridged edition of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo! Victory is mine!

Now what am I supposed to do with all my spare time?

I've updated my quotes blog post. Both of them, actually. Go crazy with all the gloriousness that is Victor Hugo. The guy is verbose, but his verbosity paints the most profound images, details the darkest abyss of the human experience, and elevates the soul. I even found beauty in his description of the sewers.

What is Les Mis to me now, having finished the book, seen the play, and watched the movie? Beyond the obvious story of redemption, Les Mis is an opportunity to understand the human experience, to look deep into the soul of man and glimpse his revolutionary spirit, his determined spirit. It is an opportunity to come to know that the salvation of man comes because of love. It is the opportunity to understand that what we believe is right can sometimes turn out to be only an illusion, a ideological fiction that we tell ourselves to perpetuate the status quo. 

I hated, at times, the ridiculousness of Marius and Cosette's courtship. It made me want to throw up a little in my mouth every once in a while. But, despite the apparent lovie-dovey-ness of it all, their relationship exemplifies a love built on admiration, borderline obsessive infatuation (not entirely healthy), and respect. In contemporary relationships, I think we miss that aspect. Too often, serious relationships are built on desire and lust and forego the powerful dimension of admiration.  

As a sociologist, Les Miserables demonstrates the impact of inequality and exploitation. It illustrates the damages inflicted upon a society when women and children are exploited, forgotten, or abandoned. A society cannot progress when it ignores the needs of the poor and needy, when it turns out the child to beg in the streets or run in gangs. It cannot progress when women are viewed as half or less of a person, enslaved because of their gender, and seen as "the weaker sex." Poverty is inherently unjust. It creates animals out of man, creatures of darkness out of those who were once lovers of light. It was structural failings that led to Fantine's descent into the urchin world, Thenardier's fiendish extortion, and Jean Valjean's initial crime. It is why Victor Hugo wrote that so long as such things exist, "there shall be a need for books such as this." 

Here's what Anne Hathaway had to say about her opportunity to portray Fantine: "Playing Fantine, having to connect with the darkness of life, and I think maybe more to the point, the unnecessary suffering that human beings can inflict on each other, I would have loved to have gone home and forgotten about that everyday, but you just can't because it exists. And it exists for millions of men and women throughout the world. I think this film changed me because it made me more compassionate and more aware."

One cannot read Les Miserables without being changed, without shedding tears out of sadness and joy, without feeling a desire to ameliorate the suffering of his fellow man. Perhaps you can. I could not. "He who does not cry cannot see."

As Jean Valjean arrives at the barricade, he is described by one student as, "a man who saves others." He had arrived at a critical juncture, giving another the chance to leave the barricade and live. His life, his mission, was salvation. I want to be a man who saves others. And  in so doing, I want to be a man who saves himself. 

Hugo writes, "The book the reader has now before his eyes...is the march from evil to good, from injustice to justice, from the false to the true, from night to day, from appetite to conscience, from rottenness to life, from brutality to duty, from Hell to Heaven, from nothingness to God. Starting poing: matter; goal: the soul. Hydra at the beginning, angel at the end" (1242). Les Miserables is a book, a story about progress, change, and hope. Is that not what God, in whatever form we conceive Him to be, expects from us? 

As I have read, I have found intimations of my own experience within the lives of these now hallowed characters. In his final moments, Javert is torn between two lives he never thought possible. "Before him he saw two roads, both equally straight; but he did see two; and that terrified him -- he who had never in his life known anything but one straight line. And, bitter anguish, these two roads were contradictory. One of these two straight lines excluded the other. Which of the two was the true one" (1320)? I find myself in such a predicament as of late. None of this Robert Frost nonsense. Both paths are equally straight and equally frightening. What does one do in such a case? "He looked for but could no longer find himself" (1321). "To have the unknown over his head, he was not accustomed to that" (1326). Powerful words. Frightening reality. Perhaps that is why Javert took his own life. He could not bear the thought of contradictory realities. I see before myself two equally terrifying roads, but unlike Javert, I see some hope. I see some consensus, even if it is illogical consensus.

And so, Les Miserables is to me a story of inner peace, even when such peace takes lifetimes to achieve. We cannot be whole with a shattered conscience. We are either entirely Jean Valjean, or we are nothing. To be honest with oneself is the last demon he must exorcise from his being. Only then does dying not become terrible; only then does living mean everything. It is a shame not to live. 

Les Mis Quotes, Part II

You can read part one here. The post was just getting excessively long, and I figured that two post would make things more accessible. You seriously need to read all of these. Words have power, my friends.

Pg. 934-935: "What a great thing, to be loved! What a greater thing still, to love! The heart becomes heroic through passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure; it no longer rests on anything but what is elevated and great. An unworthy thought can no more spring up in it than a nettle on a glacier. The lofty and serene soul, inaccessible to common passions and common emotions, rising above the clouds and shadows of this world, its follies, its falsehoods, its hatreds, its vanities, its miseries, inhabits the blue of the skies, and no longer feels anything but the deep subterranean commotions of destiny, as the summit of the mountains feels the quaking of the earth.
"If no one loved, the sun would go out."

Pg. 986: "When you know and when you love you will still suffer. The day dawns in tears. The luminous weep, but only over the dark ones."

Pg. 999: "Knowledge is a viaticum, thought is of primary necessity, not only grain but truth is nourishment. Through fasting from knowledge and wisdom, reason becomes emaciated. As with stomachs, we should pity minds that do not eat. If there is anything more poignant than a body agonizing for want of bread, it is a soul dying of hunger for light."

Pg. 1000: "We who believe, what can we fear?
"There is no backward flow of ideas any more than of rivers.
"But those who do not want the future should think it over. In saying no to progress, it is not the future that they condemn, but themselves. They are giving themselves a melancholy disease; they are inoculating themselves with the past. There is only one way of refusing tomorrow, and that is to die.
"No, no death -- that of the body as late as possible, never that of the soul -- is what we desire."

Pg. 1001: "We do not know the diseases of the ancient civilizations, we know the infirmities of our own."

Pg. 1004: "Love has no middle term; either it destroys, or it saves. All human destiny is this dilemma. This dilemma, destruction or salvation, no fate proposes more inexorably than love. Love is life, if it is not death. Cradle; coffin, too. The same sentiment says yes and no in the human heart. Of all the things God has made, the human heart is the one that sheds most light, and alas! most night."

Pg. 1026: "There is an expansion of thought peculiar to the proximity of the grave; being near death makes us see the truth."

Pg. 1128: "There is nobody who has not noticed it in himself, the soul -- and this is the marvel of its complicated unity and ubiquity -- has the wonderful faculty of reasoning almost coolly in the most desperate extremities; and it often happens that disconsolate passion and deep despair, in the very agony of their darkest soliloquies, weigh subjects and discuss theses. Logic mingles with convulsion, and the thread of syllogism floats unbroken in the dreary storm of thought."

Pg. 1148: "What are the convulsions of a city compared to the emeutes of the soul? Man is a depth still more profound than the people."

Pg. 1155: "Great griefs contain dejection. They discourage existence."

Pg. 1190-1191: "Equality, citizens, is not all vegetation of one level, a society of big blades of grass and little oaks; a neighborhood of jealousies emasculating each other; civilly, it is all aptitudes having equal opportunity; politically, all votes having equal weight; religiously, all consciences having equal rights. Equality has an organ: free and compulsory education. The right to the alphabet, we must being by that. The primary school obligatory for everyone, the highest school offered to everyone, such is the law. From identical schools spring an equal society. Yes, education! Light! Light!

Pg. 1279: "The pupil dilates in the night, and at last finds day in it, even as the soul dilates in misfortune, and at last finds God in it."

Pg. 1320: "Before him he saw two roads, both equally straight; but he did see two; and that terrified him -- he who had never in his life known anything but one straight line. And, bitter anguish, these two roads were contradictory. One of these two straight lines excluded the other. Which of the two was the true one?"

Pg. 1394: "We have all had these moments of trouble, in which everything within us is dispersed; we say the fist things that come to mind, which are not always precisely those that we should say. There are sudden revelations we cannot bear, that intoxicate like a noxious wine."

Pg. 1396: "It is not enough to be happy, we must be satisfied with ourselves."

Pg. 1397: "Your heart is not as quickly lacerated when you are at peace with yourself."

Pg. 1398: "To live, I once stole a loaf of bread; today, to live, I will not steal a name."

Pg. 1458: "It is nothing to die; it is horrible not to live."