Joining the Good Old Boys Club

The door to the historic house on Broadway opened on a beautiful fall-like evening in Little Rock. The host greeted us and commented on my husband's and my matching tie-died shirts. We were there for a celebration of our friend Matilda's 60th birthday. There was also recognition by the theme of the party of Woodstock. The beaded hairbands around my graying, but blond-highlighted hair, were tightening around my temples. I immediately pulled out of my purse a copy of the 1969-1970 yearbook from the University of Mississippi and showed a gathering group around me my husband's and my yearbook pictures. One of the group commented on my big hair back then, but the host immediately pointed out the paucity of women on the page. I looked again and then counted; I was one of eight women students on the page surrounded by thirty-seven men.

This year 2009 represents, as we all know, the 40th anniversary of both Woodstock and the landing on the moon. Therefore, all of us have been reflecting upon the momentous events going on in the late '60's like the assassination of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr. combined with the Viet Nam War. I guess it is for this reason that many of us women are also reflecting, many years later, upon our status both culturally and professionally.

Statistics tell us that in 1969 women in graduate school represented just 41 percent of the student population. By 1999 the percentage had grown to 57 percent (a 178 percentage increase). In 1969, I had hardly awakened yet to the women's movement, but I now know that the late 1960's ushered in the feminist movement that would reach a crescendo by the middle of the next decade. At that time I, of course, had no idea of the great challenges that lay ahead of me as I sought to enroll in a doctoral program at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville only to be told I would likely do better to work for an Educational Specialist degree instead. I held my ground before "the deciders" (all male) and was admitted and was graduated five years later, doctoral degree in hand. I spent twenty-two years of my working career in a university in Northwest Arkansas (it was mostly very conservative regarding the role of women since most of the faculty were men and had wives who were homemakers). I became, however, the first woman Registrar and later the first woman chair of the English department.

Now that I have been retired for three years, I look back at those years and, even though quite difficult at times to navigate in a man's world, I am proud that I was one of the many women who were also joining the good old boys clubs throughout America.

Mourning Edition

Just a few days after Ted Kennedy's death last week, NPR and other media outlets were already talking about his replacement in the U. S. Senate. Obviously, Kennedy's death came at a most inopportune time since August represented the final push for the Democrats to hold town meetings to promote health care reform. His death means that the Senate will not have the sixty votes needed to push through the health care agenda that Kennedy was promoting for most of his life.

Many of those interviewed about Kennedy's position indicated that decorum demanded at least a week was needed before one seriously broached the subject of his successor. Some were already urging that Kennedy's wife Vicki be chosen, certainly following a common precedent from the past. Some could not wait even a week, however, and have already indicated an interest in the position. Today on NPR we hear that Attorney General Martha Coakley is announcing her candidacy even if a Kennedy decides to run at a later date. My question is, "Doesn't Senator Kennedy deserve some respect in death without stepping all over each other in a bid to be elected to his position?" The mourning edition, or tradition, has hardly been honored. I am saddened by that.

End of Life Issues

One of the best books I have read recently is the popular novel The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society co-written by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. The setting takes place in the Channel Islands located between England and France just after World War II has ended. The residents had to live under German occupancy during the final months of the war, and their lives were in constant jeopardy if any of the rules of the enemy were broken. At one point in the novel, one of the key characters, Elizabeth, speaks of Matthew Arnold's poem Empodecles of Etna. The lines remind all of us of the importance of living life fully each day, "Is it so small a thing, To have enjoyed the sun, / To have lived light in the Spring, / To have thought, to have done; / To have advanced true friends, . . . ."

Many of us who are in our sixties and enjoying the retirement we have worked all our lives for have been bombarded in recent weeks with a lot of scare tactics relating to end of life issues. We hear that Medicare will be rationed, waits to see doctors will be lengthy, and perhaps nursing home care will be eliminated with the proposed Medicaid cuts. I guess at this point I am ambivalent on some of the issues. For example, my father-in-law is now ninety-two and living in an assisted living facility in Wichita. During the past twenty-five years, he has probably had just about every medical procedure that a human being can endure--all in an effort to extend his life forever. While I know doctors are committed to extending life, I wonder if we extend it far too long at times, especially when I think of my friend Connie who died of a brain tumor at age fifty. Upon diagnosis, the doctor gave her six months to live with no treatment; she died in five months after enduring massive radiation treatments. I ask myself, "Would her final months have been better with no radical treatment?"

As far as myself, I have already indicated to my family that I want no extended end of life treatments when a diagnosis comes that says my time on earth is ending. I hope to die with dignity, reflecting upon the wonderful memories of this life. As Arnold reminded us in his poem, I have enjoyed many wonderful vacations, I have raised my family in the spring of my life, I have considered many issues thoughtfully, I have worked over forty years, and I have dearly loved both family and friends. But . . . I don't want to cling to this life since, as a believer, I look forward to a future life.

Life Jacket Metaphors

One of the minor characters in Roberto Bolano's 2666, Barry Seaman, is giving a speech when he begins to talk of writing techniques. He says to his audience, "Metaphors are our way of losing ourselves in semblances or treading water in a sea of seeming. In that sense a metaphor is like a life jacket." He goes on to remind the listeners that some metaphors float while others sink to the bottom like lead. In that one passage, Bolano has illustrated both an original metaphor that is effective and one that is a cliche.

In my years of teaching writing to students, whether fiction or non-fiction, I have found it difficult to move students away from their love of cliches. In fact I made my point so strongly and so frequently through the years that I was known as "the teacher who hates cliches." Imagine my gratification, however, when the late poet Gwendolyn Brooks visited our university and said to students in a question and answer session, "Eliminate cliches, and you will have a publishable piece of work."

Of course, one danger is that an original metaphor of the time, for example Homer's description of "a rosy-fingered dawn," can become a cliche itself after centuries of overuse. I am sure also that Bobby Burns' simile of his love being like "a red red rose" was beautiful and effective in its day, but not after two hundred years and many declarations of such a love within greeting cards on Valentine's Day. For a writer, finding an effective metaphor or simile is a difficult task.

Metaphors and similes are used to bring concreteness to an abstract idea like love or to a scene like a sunrise when the usual words seem incapable of expressing the emotion one needs. They are indeed life jackets for one's writing. Let's make sure we use them effectively.

Coincidence and Fate

Our book club is currently reading Roberto Bolano's novel 2666. It has been praised by critics for its complexity and its themes. One of the more interesting characters is a painter by the name of Johns who expresses his views on the role of coincidence and fate in one's life. He says, "Coincidence, if you'll permit me the simile, is like the manifestation of God at every moment on our planet. A senseless God making senseless gestures at his senseless creatures." He sees coincidence at being representative of total freedom and the complete opposite of fate. I beg to disagree.

As a Christian I have always been taught that there is no such thing as coincidence, that God has a plan for each of our lives that He carries out. That belief, however, does not mean we humans are without free will to make our own choices. From the beginning of the Hebrew Bible, we read of Adam and Eve's choice to eat of the forbidden fruit in spite of God's command to do otherwise.

As I reflect upon seeming coincidences in my own life, I am convinced that God is preparing us all the time for events to follow in our lives. For example, when Judy, my sister, moved to a small town in Mississippi in the 1970's, by "coincidence" she met our half-brother's wife at the local swimming pool. She developed a friendship with her and was able to meet our half-brothers. Up until this time, we knew that our father had twin sons by his first wife, but we had never met them. When our father was killed in a homicide a few months later, we were able to plan the funeral together.

Another example of God's preparation of us to handle later events is that I participated in a RAIN team (Regional Aids Interfaith Network) for ten years in Northwest Arkansas as a caregiver. When I moved to Little Rock, I assumed that work was ended. At a small group meeting recently, one of our members confided in us that he had just been diagnosed with AIDS. I believe I was able to respond in a positive way, using my life experiences with my former care partners, to give him hope for the future.

Yes, many can, and do, believe in the postmodern idea of a senseless God making senseless gestures to a senseless people, but I choose of my own volition to believe simultaneously in free will, purpose, and plan for each of our lives.

The Holiness of Small Things

The dog days of summer are here in Little Rock again. It's August 10. I open the door of my house and walk out into another interminable, sultry, humid Southern day. I trudge down the street to the northern path that is so familiar to me after three years of living in the neighborhood. On the left and right I hear the familiar sounds of early morning--the katydids, crickets, and tree frogs still serenading in the foot-high weeds along the easements, and in addition I hear the cars and trucks roar by toward work. From the sound of the souped-up engines, I imagine that teenagers throughout the neighborhood are buzzing quickly to their fast food or lawn mowing jobs. The schools are set to re-open in another week.

The announcer on my favorite NPR station indicates it is seventy-nine degrees and is talking about the survival of journalism. Simply stated, journalism as a career must move beyond simply saving money and cutting costs but must, of necessary, reinvent itself in order to survive. An English crime novelist had just been interviewed in a previous story who spoke of going down to the Thames only to see the ugly side by side with the beautiful--a drowned bloated carcass of a dog to the left and a graceful white heron to the right.

As I get to the halfway point of my morning walk, I turn and head back for another mile and one-half to my house. It is here that my face feels a gently blowing breeze coming from the South. I look up at the horizon to see a two-thirds waning moon in the light of the morning, slowing sinking out of sight to the West. I remember a line I have just read from yet another of Jan Karon's books in her Mitford series, A New Song, "the ineffable holiness of small things." At my age, I do not long for the things of the past--a newer car, a bigger house, a remodeled kitchen, and so on. I simply want to enjoy the little blessings of life daily, juxtaposing the annoyances of hot weather with the knowledge that cool breezes will blow again in another month or so.

Bubba's Back

Since I live in Little Rock, it is not uncommon to see a familiar bumper sticker on many cars throughout the city. It simply reads, "I miss Bill." It needs no other explanation since former President Bill Clinton still has many fans throughout the state and country. Many of us know him only from some distance, as President of our country for eight years. Some of us know him a bit better since he was also Governor of Arkansas for two terms as well. I remember meeting him in 1984 when he came to the small Christian school where I taught to be the graduation speaker. While standing in the foyer of the auditorium, I took his hand as I was introduced to him by my friend and colleague, Deborah, who had been responsible for booking this engagement. He looked directly into my eyes as if I were the other person in the world. I immediately sensed that charisma that I had heard so much about in the past. I can only begin to imagine the intense emotion the two journalists in North Korea also felt yesterday when a door opened, and they saw President Clinton. They immediately perceived he had come to be their savior.

Of course, those on the right, like John Bolton, have already been quite critical, saying the visit simply gives North Korea what it has been seeking for years, a gigantic propaganda tool. I disagree. We have tried using a heavy hand with North Korea for years, ignoring its flinging of missiles wherever and its threats of nuclear proliferation. What does it hurt for our former President to publicly sit with North Korea's dictator for a few pictures and have a dinner with a dying man? I am on the side of those who sincerely hope the event can lead to a better understanding between North Korea and America in the future.

In any event, "Bubba's Back." I hope to see new bumper stickers proclaiming that message. I hope that he will continue to use whatever influence he has to promote understanding and peace within the world.