Month: April 2019

Exit 239. The simple solution that was right there all along.

A couple weeks ago, I got home from somewhere in the evening and noticed that the porch light was out.  I took out the old bulb; it was definitely burned out.  But when I put a new bulb in, that didn’t work either.

I tried the new bulb in another socket, and it worked.  So it wasn’t the bulb.  Something in the process of inserting a new light bulb broke the porch light, apparently.  I spent the last couple weeks with the knowledge in the back of my mind that I needed to do something about the porch light eventually.  I was hoping it would be something simple, like a loose wire, but given the way that I’ve had so many home repairs over the last few months, I was afraid it was going to be something difficult to fix requiring me to shell out another large sum of money and work around someone else’s schedule to get fixed.

I hadn’t done anything about it until this morning, mostly because I had been busy and hadn’t felt like dealing with it, and having a porch light isn’t absolutely essential.  But I decided to take a look at it this morning.  I started by unscrewing the bulb to make sure, again, that it worked in another socket.  It did.  And then, looking at the porch light, I noticed something.

When I tried to change the bulb a couple weeks ago, it was dark.  A mix of cobwebs, dirt, and stuff that fell off of or came out of bugs was inside the socket.  Apparently, when I tried to screw in the new light bulb in the dark, this debris had pushed into the socket, making a bad electrical connection between the bulb and the rest of the electrical system.

So I took one of those spray can blowers and blew out as much stuff out of the porch light as I could.  I took a paint brush and brushed more of it off.  And I put the new bulb back in.  It worked.

Sometimes, one can be so blinded by stress and worry so as to completely miss the simple solution that was right there all along.  That is all.

Exit 238. The relationship goes both ways.

I saw a coworker the other day. Her children, two of whom had been students of mine in the past, were with her. The oldest one is now in high school. She was in my class three years ago, in that same memorable class as the girl who dropped precalculus, the guy I had no memory of, Protractor Girl, and the friendly guy I saw at the basketball game.

I waved. She waved back.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“Good,” she said. Or something like that; I don’t remember the small talk part word for word. “How are you?”

All I could think of to say was, “I’m really stressed right now.” It’s true. I am really stressed right now. I have a lot of things at home that need fixing. My house is a mess. I have a lot of school responsibilities I’m trying to juggle.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’ll get through it.”

There are plenty of stories out there about teachers inspiring students. Most people have a favorite teacher who inspired them in a particular way, whether or not this teacher even taught the subject matter that the student in question enjoyed. But, after almost two decades of working in education, I would venture a guess that there are just as many stories of students inspiring teachers. Students and teachers are a significant part of each others’ lives for a time, and the relationship goes both ways. My former student is correct here. I will get through this.

And so will all of you. Happy Easter/Resurrection Day, friends.

Exit 237. The first step in trying to change the world.

I’ve generally stayed away from controversial topics on this blog.  Today’s post is an exception. I might lose friends over this. I’m prepared for that.  The views herein are mine and do not reflect that of any organization that I am part of or any colleagues or associates of mine.

I recently saw the movie Unplanned.  I went by myself, because I knew a lot of my friends wouldn’t want to see this movie, and also because I felt like this was a story I needed to see by myself.  The movie is based on a true story, and the nonfiction memoir of the same title. The movie is the story of Abby Johnson, the former director of an abortion clinic in Texas who had a change of heart and became an anti-abortion pro-life activist.  Unsurprisingly, the movie has received mostly negative reviews from professional critics, effectively calling it a poorly done right-wing propaganda piece. There has also been a bit of a media blackout of this movie; several major television networks have refused to air advertisements for the movie, because of its sensitive subject matter.  The MPAA gave the movie an R rating, despite the lack of any profanity or nudity, preventing many of the scared pregnant teens who need to know that there are other options for them besides abortion from seeing the movie at all.  In many states, these same scared pregnant teens can get an abortion without parental consent or notification.

To be honest, some of the above is valid, to some extent.  You can tell that this is a low-budget film. And, although I’m not an expert on criteria for movie ratings, the R rating does seem a bit justified because of a few scenes with a lot of blood.  I suspect that, in the case of most people watching this movie, it is doing a lot of preaching to the choir. Those who do not believe that abortion is morally wrong are the ones dismissing this movie as propaganda.  But to me, it is a powerful story that needs to be told, a story of love and redemption and the consequences of our choices.

I believe that abortion is wrong.  The Bible is clear that all human life is precious to the God who created us, even before birth.   I believe that God gave us sex to create life, and as part of the intimate lifelong bond between a husband and wife, and that anyone who is not at least willing to accept the possibility of bringing a child into the world should be taking responsibility for that.  If birth control doesn’t work, the responsible thing to do is to accept the consequences and not end the life of a child for the sake of your own convenience.  Many people out there would be willing to adopt a child and give it a good home.  And I am not disqualified from having an opinion about abortion because I am a man. You can have an opinion about slavery in the USA even if you didn’t live in the South before 1860, for example.  You don’t have to be directly affected by injustice to stand up for it.  And my opposition to abortion has nothing to do with oppressing women. Women have the unique gift of being able to bear children and bring new life into the world. But this gift of creating life is not to be taken lightly. With great power comes great responsibility (Benjamin Parker was right), and both parties involved, the man and the woman, have a great responsibility to use this gift wisely.  I know that this is considered a very extreme viewpoint in this culture, but Jesus didn’t say we would exactly be popular in the world.

I also believe that one can make a secular argument against abortion.  Fertilized eggs, embryos, and feti are all distinct beings with different DNA than either parent, so these have as much value as any other human life.  It is not part of either parent’s body, it is a separate life that has value, so abortion takes a life, which can only be justified if one is willing to accept situations like slavery in which some human lives are more valuable than others.  And abortion is not essential health care. Essential health care makes the body act the way it is designed to when it is not doing so. Abortion is exactly the opposite: the bodies of a pregnant woman and a developing fetus are doing exactly what they are designed to, and abortion prevents this from happening.

Okay… now hold that thought.  The night before I saw the movie, I shared an article from the Babylon Bee (a satire site) referencing the accusations against former Vice President Joe Biden and his habit of smelling women’s hair without their consent.  Someone commented on my post; I knew this guy a long time ago, and he has changed quite a bit in the time since he was in my primary social circle. Pretty much all of our interactions these days are him making some kind of smug disparaging comment on anything even remotely political than I share.  This time it was something to the effect that Donald Trump has said and done much worse than this. I said that it was a straw man argument, because Trump’s misdeeds don’t make Biden’s acceptable, and that he was assuming incorrectly that I was a Trump supporter. That led to a discussion, mostly angry and defensive on my part, in which he accused me of being divisive by spreading one-sided political posts, and thus that I have no right to complain about society being so divided.

He kind of does have a point here.  Even though I didn’t vote for Trump, I haven’t shared things critical of his administration, mostly because the things the Democrats are saying are far more disagreeable and sometimes terrifying to me.  And he calls it being divisive, but I call it telling the truth, and the truth hurts sometimes.

Back to Unplanned.  (Stop reading if you don’t want any plot details spoiled.  Then come back to this post after you’ve seen the movie.) A group of pro-lifers regularly stands outside of the clinic to pray; the movie particularly focuses on one of them, Marilisa, and the man that she eventually marries, Shawn.  What struck me the most about the movie was the way that Abby was generally cordial and friendly to Marilisa and Shawn, and they were cordial and friendly to her. Shawn and Marilisa didn’t scream at Abby and call her a baby killer, and Abby didn’t scream at them and call them sexist bigots or religious nuts.  And as a result, on the day that Abby decided to get out of the abortion industry, she had someone to turn to, and she immediately reached out to them.  (I’ve read that the events of that one day in the movie happened over the course of a couple of weeks in real life, but that doesn’t take away from my point.)  Also, along those lines, Abby’s family disapproved of her work, but they did not disown her, shun her, or continually berate her for it.  They loved her despite what she was doing.

And then it hit me.

This is what not being divisive truly looks like.

I have friends who have had abortions, and there are probably many more of them who have never told me that they have had abortions.  (And I don’t know if I want to know. I don’t want to be too sheltered from opposing views and lifestyles, but I also don’t like the thought that people I know have done this, and I don’t want my feelings about the subject to get in the way of us otherwise being friends.)  It’s really hard for me not to be divisive and accept this, given what I balieve about this. But thinking of these people as heartless baby killers and making derogatory comments about their sex lives isn’t going to change the world or do anything to make the rest of the world think differently of people like me.  Real life is far too complex for such simplistic responses, and women who have had abortions most likely went through a very difficult decision process. They are genuinely doing what they believe is best for everyone involved, as are many employees of abortion clinics.

I can say I’m not divisive all I want, but if I quietly stand by while others are expressing views and lifestyles differently from mine while inwardly calling them names in my head, then I’m certainly not doing anything to help or change the situation.  So, instead of getting angry at the way the world is, what I really need to be doing is seeking to understand why people believe differently from me, acknowledging that there are reasons for this, and caring for them as human beings.  Because understanding where others come from must be the first step in trying to change the world. It isn’t easy, it doesn’t come naturally, but it is what the world needs right now.