Thoughts from a Woman

Published in the Idaho State Journal on December 19, 2021.

 
Please note that this column broches the topics of child sexual abuse, rape,  and abortion.  In the week before Christmas, it’s tempting to save this content for another time, but it’s also the week of my 49th birthday. My birth and life as a woman is central to the conversation that’s come to a crescendoing peak in this country.

How many op eds have appeared in the Idaho State Journal from a woman on the topic of abortion? When there’s been a catalyst in current events for me to share my thoughts on the topic – be it a new Texas law or a new justice on the Supreme Court –the words have been impossible for this woman to find amidst the rage, fear, confusion and disgust.

My columns tend to read more like personal blogs. That is intentional. I don’t like to be told what to do or what to think, so I try not to do that when I write. I’m also careful not to speak for all Idahoans, all LBGT people, all engineers, all redheads or all of any group I belong to because my life experience is unique to all of these identities that intersect in what is my life. My perspective. My being. My editorials, including this one,  are about my lived experience from childhood as a young girl though adulthood as a woman nearing 50. I can’t (and shouldn’t) speak for all women, but I can speak for me.

It’s outlandish in a nation that prides itself on individual freedom and privacy that I would even need to discuss my sexual history or whether or not I have been assaulted in the arena of public discourse, but in the conversations and legal debates about individual freedoms, that’s where this conversation goes. So fine. Let’s talk about me.

I have never been raped or sexually assaulted. I have also never engaged in consensual sexual intercourse or undergone in vitro fertilization treatments. Nothing has happened to me that could have resulted in a pregnancy, nor have I chosen to engage in an activity that would lead to pregnancy. Yet because my unique, logical, compassionate, happy-to-be-on-this earth body and soul came with a vagina, uterus, ovaries, fallopian tubes, I have always been at risk of needing an abortion.

Throughout my life, I’ve considered that I would need an abortion if I became pregnant, but the truth is, I have no idea what I would need in the aftermath of such a horrific and truly unimaginable tragedy – because the only reason I would have become pregnant would have been the result of an assault. An attack on my body, my mind, and my agency.  I can imagine all I want, but without living through something so ghastly and life-altering, I cannot say for certain what I would want – or when I would want it.  I cannot say what I would need – or when I would need it. To lose my agency in a sexual assault is one thing, but to further lose my agency as a result of something the American Government or Idaho laws dictate is another. Both scenarios are vile.

Growing up, I had a lot of serious conversations about abortion with my mom who was a child protection social worker. One of our first was on a workday evening after she took a report from a 13 year old girl who had been raped by her uncle. I was her same age. She sat with her for hours listening to her process what happened to her. In those moments the girl didn’t know if she was pregnant, but Mom got to see how the most critical thing for this girl in the immediacy of the trauma, was that she had options. After not having any agency whatsoever over her own body, it was critical that she now did.

Because of my lifelong risk of needing an abortion is central to the behavior of men whose paths I cross, I don’t think men should be excluded from the discussion. I  wish, however, men would focus on what they can do themselves when it comes to abortion.  They can be responsible ejaculators. They can encourage each other and their sons to ejaculate responsibly. Can we normalize the use of the word “ejaculation” in the conversations about abortion?  No abortion was ever needed without an ejaculation occurring first.

When a man chooses to ejaculate out of pleasure, power, malice, affection or indifference, his act could lead to an abortion. If men want to be absolutely, positively ensure that an abortion doesn’t happen, they have the agency to ensure that through their own behavior rather than regulating mine. Discussing the merits, nuances and legalities of criminalizing how men ejaculate bring to light the government overreach in many abortion regulations and exactly who is being controlled and condemned.

Would Americans ever consider regulating ejaculation? If truly limiting abortions is the goal, then perhaps they should.

Seizing the Thunder

Published in the Idaho State Journal on November 21, 2021

Last weekend the Pocatello High School football team ended their season with a third place finish. I followed their advancement through friends who had a son on the team or who were involved with Poky Nation. “Poky Nation” is the student cheering section. The pictures and videos of their season portray a palpable Poky Pride.  These kids have embraced their new Thunder nickname with a fervor that surpassed anything I could have imagined or hoped for them.

It’s not just the football team or Poky Nation that has surprised me. I have been plunged into a subculture previously foreign to me that is bursting with school spirt: the speech and debate team. At Pocatello High School, they are now known as the “Voice of the Storm.”  

Last weekend while the football team was playing in Holt Arena, the PHS speech and debate team was at the Gate City Tournament at Highland High School.  The “Voice of the Storm” has team uniforms this year of matching navy suits with a maroon vest and options of a traditional or bow tie. They look sharp. On Friday after school, I received a text from our speaker while he was on the bus heading across town. (Shared with his permission.)

“Is it possible for you to grab my debate tie tack please? It’s in my room, probably on the floor because my room is a mess. It is in a small pink box in the bag that has the bow tie and pocket square in it. Again, probably on the floor.”

He’s a smart kid. By acknowledging the mess, I’m less likely to give him grief.  The box was right where he described. Curious, I opened it. Then I stood in his doorway smiling. It is a sterling silver lightning bolt. He could have gone through the evening just fine without it, but this was his personal symbol of the Storm.  His badge of Thunder.

An earlier season tournament in Idaho Falls laid the foundation for my recognizing the importance of his tie tack to him. These kids will spend four to six hours in speaking competitions on a Friday night and then turn around for another 10-14 hours the next day. Add a couple bus rides on top of that. When he gave us his first post-tournament report, it began with, “we scared the bus driver.”

I envisioned my own impromptu speech about the need to respect the bus driver, when he continued, “because our cheer was so loud.” He went on to describe the scene on the bus and recite a new cheer that some seniors and juniors wrote over the summer. Our 16 year old stood in our kitchen on a Sunday morning grinning through his shouts and waving his hands in excitement. His hair was a mess and his voice was hoarse but this was an unmistakable presentation of Poky Pride.  

Before either of these two tournaments, their season began with a novice tournament at home. Varsity team members served as judges while the novice participants got experience with a lowkey competition. Their coach asked for parent volunteers to help chaperone, and I spent hours roaming the halls of Pocatello High School to make sure the students were where they were supposed to be.

I had time to inspect every single class picture that still hangs in the 129 year old institution. The trophies. The pictures of student body presidents. The pictures of past principals. The “Indians” memorabilia on display. The new Thunder imagery featuring a fierce bison.  It was a very “Dead Poets Society” couple of hours.

That Robin Williams movie came out in 1989 – when I was the exact age that our debater is now.  There is a scene where Williams’ character Mr. Keating, an English teacher at an all-boys boarding school, has his class stationed in front of the old trophy cases and asks them to “peruse the faces of the past”. His message in that exercise is to point out that many of the people in those pictures are now gone. Life is short. We must “carpe diem” or “seize the day.”

I recalled that scene while I wandered and thought.  My ponderings were interrupted when debate kids flitted by looking for their next round or a laptop charger. It was a poignant and beautiful clash of the past and present as their giggles and disputes provided the soundtrack to my own perusing of the faces of the past.  

Many in our community are still skeptical and unhappy about the retirement of the Pocatello Indian - for a variety of reasons. I wish my experience alone in that school a month ago could set hearts at ease. The history on display is resounding. Today’s students are doing right by our rich traditions while making new ones of their own. It’s been a treat to hear their cheers and feel their energy, and when I lean in to look, I can see them seize the day in how they are seizing the Thunder. Mr. Keating would be proud. 

Thunder, the new bison mascot for Pocatello High School

 

Apologies to my Colleagues

Published in the Idaho State Journal on November 7, 2021

 Since companies began issuing remote work edicts, I have heard stories of video and conference call faux pas. There was the woman who forgot she was on camera while she took her laptop to the loo; the guy who thought the call had ended and stood up to reveal his boxers; and the hundreds of dogs barking, kids screaming and cats bumping the web cams causing disruptions. Last week, it was my turn.

I had gone to a community meeting across town at lunch. My bi-monthly staff meeting started at 1 pm, and this particular one offered a training I needed. About a dozen coworkers call in from home, the local office or the office in our Texas location. My teammates in this meeting are sharp and competent with great senses of humor. Hopefully I can add “forgiving” to their list of adjectives.

Before I left my noon community meeting, I turned on my phone’s hotspot and fired up my laptop. With my laptop connected to my phone’s Wi-Fi, I could access the meeting’s audio and visual slides on my computer. I muted my line, and turned up the volume so I could hear the meeting introductions on my five minute drive home. I put my laptop in the backseat so I could drive without the distractions of video.

I have been having terrible back troubles lately, so I break up my days with icing and lying down. I bought a bed desk that allows me to work while doing so, and the setup is perfect for these types of meetings. When I got home, I set the laptop on the kitchen counter while I got my ice pack out of the freezer. I noticed I was still on my phone Wi-Fi and it was draining the battery, so I switched to my home network.

The transfer from my phone’s Wi-Fi to my home Wi-Fi was so quick that the audio and video barely glitched. I didn’t notice I became un-muted in the process.  This is important. Our youngest had a half day, so both he and my wife were home milling around the house quietly so I could listen.  I grabbed my ice pack and laptop and headed to lie down.

Our two golden doodles skittered behind me to nap while I iced and listened. They have interrupted a few meetings during the past year when the UPS guy showed up or when our kids got home from school.  Everyone knows I’m a dog-lover, so it’s never a surprise when their barks break in. I do love them, but they can be a pain in the butt.  Speaking of butts…

Our seven year old pup has had intermittent issues over the years with her anal glands. I had never heard of an anal gland until I got my first dog in my late 20’s. Scientifically speaking, dogs and cats have two small glands near the anal opening that can fill up with liquid and poo. When our dog starts the “scoots” or we notice excessive licking, it’s time to take her to the vet so the glands can be “expressed”. Sometimes when the  glands are full, they will leak a foul-smelling fluid resembling rotting fish and excrement all wrapped into one. Scientifically speaking, it’s disgusting.

While getting my bed desk situated, I noticed a faint stain on a pillow. I thought it might be Diet Dr. Pepper or tea since I’ve been drinking a bunch of both lately. Without thinking, I pulled the pillow to my nose and sniffed. Nope. Not Diet Dr. Pepper or tea.

I gagged and shrieked to the people in the house, “GAAA! Her anal…” Before “glands” could escape in my scream, I noticed I was no longer muted. The presenter stopped talking and said, “excuse me?” 

Still gagging, I paused for a prayer and muted my line.  I watched everyone’s icons, silently pleading for the presenter to continue. When he finally did, I thought that my outburst hadn’t been discernible due to the streaming delays common with technology.

The next day, having already placed the experience in the bowels of my memory bank, I had forgotten about it - until one cheeky fella in the office said with a smirk, “Hey, did you have something to say in the meeting yesterday?” 

I recalled all of the years of workplace training to consider whether discussing my dog’s anal glands at work could get me fired. With nothing coming to mind, I came clean. It was a “ruff” day on the remote work learning curve. In our next staff meeting, I will offer a training on the short-cut keys to mute your line, a reminder to check your meeting settings often, and apologies to my colleagues.


 

My Election Decision Trees

I love a good local election that doesn’t make candidates disclose a party affiliation. So often voters use that (R) or (D) next to a name to fill in the circle – or not.  Sure, voters still look for indications of affiliations and endorsements, but I like thinking that the possibility still exists for “person over party.”

When I consider a candidate, the first questions I ask myself are “Do I know them personally?  Have I ever hung out with them, and how did that go?” For instance, in the Pocatello Mayoral race, the only candidate on that list with whom I have had personal exchanges is our current Mayor Blad.  Truthfully, ever since the guy threw on a cow suit with me to take a picture in 2013 while I was cheering at a race, he secured my vote. I was in the middle of getting over being mad at him, and that gesture certainly helped. A few years later at another fun run, he did it again! We spent an hour high-fiving kids together and encouraging them to “keep moooving.”  I don’t agree with everything he has done as Mayor, but I appreciate his willingness to engage with citizens and I share his lifelong love of Pocatello. It’s a short decision tree for me when I can vote for Brian Blad.

For my city council races, I also know Linda Leeuwrik. We met at a barbeque at a mutual friend’s house over 20 years ago. I had almost forgotten about the evening until our paths crossed at a library event a decade later. Linda remembered me, and in doing so, her graciousness reminded me that I could stand to be better about remembering people.  I enjoyed our quiet library chat about our presentations, and I left that night thinking, “That is one smart, resilient and humble woman.” It’s another short decision tree for Linda Leeuwrik.

If I don’t know a  candidate all that well, my next series of questions are, “who is the Pocatello Firefighter’s Union voting for and why? And, who are some of my closest friends voting for and why?” I like putting stock in the local firefighters because, let’s face it. If I’m willing to vote for someone because they’ll suit up and cow with me or because I liked chatting with them at a barbeque, it’s prudent to consult groups and individuals who rely on candidates’ credibility and performance in case my bovine-and-barbeque litmus test if off base. With the local firefighter’s union supporting Rick Cheatum and Josh Mansfield, along with Leeuwrik and Blad, it’s easy for me to get behind them, too.

I was disappointed that Councilwoman Heidi Adamson didn’t run again because I have appreciated seeing her at a wide assortment of community events. She has been a good ambassador for our city.

My zone does not have a school board candidate up for election this year, but since I’m invested in who our Trustees will be, I can’t resist chiming in.

Only one candidate filed for Zone 1 in Chubbuck north to the Bingham County line, so Angie Oliver will have that seat. Mrs. Oliver’s uncle, Clayton Armstrong, is running against Heather Clark in Zone 2 which covers Pocatello’s west bench and the southern Mink and Johnny Creek areas. And, we’ve got incumbent Dave Matteson and Deanna Judy running in Zone 5 which is east of the hospital toward the Highland area.

Regarding the Mattson/Judy contest, I do not know Mrs. Judy, but I know that she is running in alignment with Mrs. Oliver and Mr. Armstrong. I’ve gotten to know Mr. Mattson a bit from his time serving on the school board and because we both hit the same taco place on Wednesday nights.

Mr. Mattson has served as the school board chair during this pandemic, and he’s opted to run again.  If I were in his shoes, I’d run for the hills with my phone on silent, a vat of bubble bath and a case of Reese’s Peanut Butter cups. In a piece I wrote last fall titled, “The Bedrock of Education”, I noted the six categories of people that I think a local school board should listen to: parents and students; the Superintendent and his/her staff; school principals; school teachers (individually and a collective union if one is active in the area); support staff including bus drivers, cafeteria workers, the IT Department, Human Resources, and Accounting; and community agencies like the City of Pocatello, the Pocatello Police Department and Southeastern Idaho Public Health.

I sincerely feel that our volunteer school board has worked to listen to each of these groups, and each Trustee has worked to process and appropriately prioritize conflicting opinions that have arisen.  They are constantly between a rock and a hard place and unable to please everyone, and if Dave Mattson with his institutional knowledge as the Board Chair is willing to run again, I would vote for him in heartbeat.

Regarding the Clarke/Armstrong race, I don’t know either candidate all that well so I have paid attention to what they put into the public sphere. Mr. Armstrong’s own words in his ISJ editorials and Q & A responses make me doubt that he’s really interested in listening to perspectives other than his own. Heather Clarke, on the other hand, had me sold with two sentences in her ISJ Q & A.  “As a community, we must recognize this opportunity to teach our children, through example, healthy conflict resolution strategies, constructive communication and provide community support. We have an opportunity to creatively work together and channel our passions in a constructive fashion.”

She’s right. We have that opportunity every day, and I wish more candidates who run for office would seize it.

I early voted this week at the Elections Office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Raising Men

Appeared in the Idaho State Journal on October 24, 2021.

At dinner this week, I asked our teen boys what I should write about. The 13 year old said, “You could write about my focus issues.” I let him know that since we are all still trying to figure out all of the things entailed in his focus issues, the topic would be a great column (or 12) at a later date.  But with that blessing to write about them, I figured it was a sign to dive into a topic that I have had brewing for eight years—ever since a conversation with a friend.

This friend has all sons. At that time, they were between ten and 18. I can’t recall exactly what we were discussing, perhaps something to do with scrubbing toilets or fixing meals, when she said, “I’m not raising little boys, you know. I’m raising men.”

My wife and I were newly dating at that time and her guys were adorable little boys that I was just getting to know. I was hoping for some years of ninja turtles, Legos, bedtime stories and shoulder rides.  I wasn’t ready to think of them as men, but thanks to those words in passing, that shift of raising little boys to raising men has always been in my mind.

When think about what I can contribute on their trek toward manhood, another conversation with a different friend has fed some of my actions. It really does take a village. That friend had separated from her husband. She had a core group of gal-pals to lean on during that period, but he didn’t.

She noted that she felt empowered to reach out to friends, but he didn’t. “Manly” men weren’t encouraged to seek counseling or lean on friends and say, “Hey, I could really use a cup of coffee and a talk” let alone do the opening up and talking part.  Meeting up at a bar under the guise of watching a game and having a couple o’ beers was acceptable, but for men, a more tender talk in a quiet, intimate environment simply for the sake of talking was taboo. 

These two tidbits from two different friends shaped one of the things I strive for in my contribution to raising our guys: establishing ways they can connect with someone or seek help during life’s struggles.

I try my darndest to display how I reach out to friends, check in with my therapist, or go for a bike ride when something’s troubling me,  but I know in my heart of hearts that my modeling may be no match to the pressures of this world. So, I have worked with their parents to ensure they are exposed to a wealth of activities.

Generally speaking, and this is very generally speaking, when do men get together and talk? When there’s an activity to focus on. Shooting pool, bowling, golfing, mountain biking, hunting, fishing, motorcycle riding, skiing, snowboarding, working out, playing music and golfing are the wholesome activities that come to mind when I think about the men in my life.  (We’ll stay away from gambling and drinking for now.)

Considering this, we’ve taught our boys to play pool at ISU’s student union building. We’ve signed them up through the Kids Bowl Free summer program to help them feel confident walking into a bowling alley. They know Reed Gym. The older son has had piano and golf lessons, and he regularly skis and mountain bikes. The younger son has had guitar lessons and likes running , fishing and snowboarding. They’ve been exposed to everything on that list except hunting. Although we did get a couple of BB guns the other day. (Their dad’s got a motorcycle, much to their mom’s chagrin.)

I recognize that not every family has the financial means, time or energy to expose their kids to every single one of these activities, but in the step-parent role, sometimes I try too hard. Just a few of these options would probably be fine, but I really want these guys to have an assortment of avenues available to them for future friendships and connection.    

Both boys like playing Minecraft and other video games with their friends. And while we wince at the amount of time they spend in front of a screen, we realized that they’re talking with friends about things other than just the games while they play. I’m not a video game fan, and it’s not an activity I would necessarily choose, but I love how they creatively connect with friends over the internet.

In recent years, while they are hunkered in the basement in the dark glow of their games, their voices travel through the vents. Their cackles with voice-cracks have become deep, boisterous laughter. It’s clear that we are no longer raising little boys, but we are raising men. 

The little boys and their dog 6 years ago

My American Flag

I snuck away for a soak this week. On Thursday morning, after a couple hours of work, I picked up a dear friend and we hightailed it to the hot pools in Lava Hot Springs.  As we drove by Century High School on the interstate, I recalled being there a couple weeks ago at the Pocatello Chubbuck School District 25 (PCSD25) special meeting on September 28 .  This weekday getaway was, in part, spurred by my attendance at that meeting almost three weeks ago, and how I’m still processing it all.

Prior to that September 28 special meeting a sizable number of locals organized and strategized. In light of social media rumblings and recent media coverage of all of this, I knew protesters would be on hand at this school district board meeting. I decided I wanted my family to attend, not just to show our support for educators and decision-makers, but also to put myself in the company of people who are thinking so differently from me. I needed to see their anger, fears and frustration for myself rather than just read about it online.

Dozens of people flanked the entrance to the school chanting and holding signs. Members of the public heckled the people serving on the school board at various times after the meeting was called to order. People cheered, whooped and hollered after public testimony they agreed with, continuing the practice even after the chair of the board asked the attendees to refrain from doing so. While a Pocatello High School student was at the microphone offering his considerate and personal public testimony, people heckled and jeered him. Two men in the back of the high school auditorium held an American flag between them – shaking and waving it when they liked tidbits of public testimony, ensuring that all of the School District 25 trustees could see their display throughout the entirety of the meeting.

This is not my kind of protest. I can appreciate people exercising their freedoms. In fact, I will defend the people’s freedom of speech here while exercising my own. The guys holding the flag, however,  reminded me of gay rights activists over the years who made out in cheek-less leather chaps on many a capitol’s steps. Just men, full of passion and energy. Exercising their rights in over-the-top displays of freedom.

In the immediate days following that school board meeting, it was the heckling of the Poky High student that bothered me the most. He is a classmate of our middle son and they are on the debate team together. Now that weeks have passed, however, I’ve found that I am just as bothered by how the American flag was used that night.

There’s an American flag in front of Century High School, and there was one present on the stage during the board meeting. What was the purpose of someone bringing another one? Since the January 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol where a rioter beat a US Capitol officer with pole flying an American flag, I’m noticing the use of the American flag, our American flag, more and more.

I have an American flag at home. It was presented to me when I was 13 years old at my dad’s funeral in Lava Hot Springs. He had been in the US Army just long enough to earn veteran’s benefits before injuries in a car wreck got him discharged. I don’t think Dad ever wanted a funeral, but a local Veteran’s group insisted on providing military rights, so we held a funeral. In Lava in 1986, this consisted of a rifle fired three times, bugle taps played on a battery-operated tape recorder situated on a metal folding chair and a presentation of the American flag to me with a dozen folks in attendance.

My American flag will not be used to intimidate, shame, or threaten another American.  It will continue to stay folded in its triangle in the cardboard box I brought home 35 years ago. I find it every six months when I reorganize the garage. I pause, feel it, and put it back.  I have often thought I should do something more with my American flag, but in those private moments when I rediscover it at home, it spawns profound reflections in me that I probably wouldn’t have if I saw that particular flag every day.

Do you have an American flag? What do you use it for?

I was participating in the Zonta Region 8 District conference online this week and this was my screen during the opening ceremony.

 

 

 

 

Mom, God and Character Development

 Published in the Idaho State Journal on Sept 19, 2021

We are about six weeks away from local elections on November 2. A handful of city council and school board seats are up for a vote, and we will decide the mayors for Pocatello, Chubbuck and other surrounding areas.  Newspapers, social media and produce aisles are about to be inundated with commentary as people seek to better understand issues at hand.  Wish us all luck.

Tidbits of my educational foundation have edged their way into my writing over the years. As I jumped into some discussions on social media this week, I realized that perhaps a more complete breakdown of my education-in-hind-sight would provide some context to upcoming and even past editorials of mine.  Election season is a great time for me to self-assess my path of lifelong learning to help uncover why I hold the opinions I do about education, civic engagement, rights, and responsibilities and ultimately why I vote the way I do.

My mom was an atheist who sent me to a religious elementary school. She told them, "Have at it. Teach her all you want to teach her, but don't come preaching to me. As long as you respect that boundary, I'll keep her enrolled here."  Mom wanted me to learn about "love your neighbor as yourself" from a Christian perspective that the school could provide to be mixed in with her simply humanist backing of the Golden Rule.

Mom was leery of Christian kindness that stemmed from a fear of God rather than a love of mankind, so we talked about that a lot. Fear and love can be a motivator for the same actions, and she encouraged me to be discerning of motives in myself and others. I learned to ask if and when motives matter. A Christlike love was modeled for me best by an atheist, and I learned the most about God because of a woman who didn’t believe in Him.  

I came to respect and revere the Constitution of the United States in the context of religious teachings as much as in the context of atheism. In sixth grade, my teacher oversaw a unit where we studied the core tenants of 11 other religions. This included visits to a number of places of worship including some in Salt Lake because a few denominations were not represented in Pocatello. As a 12 year old, I participated in class discussions about whether or not “In God We Trust” on government currency or “Under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance is contradictory to the First Amendment. These conversations even before puberty made me a better American.

Mom expected and wanted me to be taught things that she did not agree with so we could talk about it. We had wonderful discussions about what I was learning and why she agreed or disagreed with something. Talks during car rides and the dinner were as profound for my education and character development as my private and public classrooms.

The Christian school only went up to sixth grade, so I transferred to public school for my secondary education. My participation in athletics, band and student council in those years led me to want those opportunities available to all kids regardless of their ability to afford them. These activities promote teamwork and a sense of belonging that can be key to character development and creating good citizens. Friends’ kids can count on me to help with their fundraising.

I talk often about Mom being a child protection worker and how it affected my development. Mixed into conversations of religion and civic duty were stories of abused and neglected children she encountered. I’ve grown up knowing that not all parents talk with their kids like Mom talked with me, but also that some parents among us do horrible things to their children. This is why I am a proponent of social and emotional learning and character development in public education.

A question that often gets asked is, “should schools be responsible for what the parents aren't doing and should tax-payers have to fund it?”  Society, either in terms of taxes or the quality of our life and communities, will pay for parents' mis-steps one way or another - whether it's in the prison system or education system is up to us. I vote for education. I always vote for education.

I've been volunteering in our public schools for over 20 years. Establishing relationships with teachers, administrators, and students of varying generations has helped me understand underlying reasons behind rules, policies, content and curriculum decisions. Understanding is the perfect predecessor to polls. I may not always agree, but I can often get to a place of understanding thanks to the many years with Mom, God and some lifelong character development.

Meatloaf and Livin' Life

 Published in the Idaho State Journal on August 29, 2021. 

An old friend recently stopped in town on her way to climb in the Cascade Mountains. This friend is a “kid” who played soccer at Idaho State years ago and became a favorite dog sitter of mine. She’s all grown up and doing a great job livin’ life in Colorado. We talked way too late on a work night, and as the yawns encroached on our conversation, she got out a pocket-sized sketch book. She set it on the kitchen counter and said, “I’d love for you to write some of your best advice in there before I head out in the morning.”

What columnist doesn’t love giving advice? Even more so when asked. With this kind of free reign, the wheels in my mind woke up, and I went to sleep thinking about the wisest people whose paths I have  crossed. What could I synthesize into a single piece of advice?

The advice that I didn’t write, but that I felt compelled to share verbally comes from my mom, of course. It’s not about life so much as it is about meatloaf. My mom made the best meatloaf in the world right up until I was able to improve it.  I never run the oven in the summer, but when the cooler fall weather arrives , I put Mom’s best advice in action:  line the bottom of the loaf pan with two pieces of bread, the heels if you have them.

This is a genius use of the never-loved bread heels that serve to soak up a bunch of grease. When the loaf is finished cooking, the bread peels away and the dogs in the house will sit at attention until it  cools. I never give them the pieces all at once because they don’t need all that grease either, but little bits over a few days are a treat.

I didn’t include this advice in the sketchbook because it wasn’t oven season. Also, she’s still young. I imagine she’ll try a plant-based diet in her mid- to late 30’s like many athletes do in an effort to improve performance or ease the pain when everything starts to hurt. The meatloaf tip doesn’t apply to daily living. I wanted to come up with something more poignant that applies at any life stage.

I recalled a few years ago when a friend’s daughter was a junior in high school. This student had friends, good relationships with teachers and administrators, and schedules tailored to her learning style, yet she approached her mom wanting to transfer schools mid-year. Her mom told me,  “She doesn’t realize that wherever she goes, she has to take herself with her.”  Those words have stayed with me since, and become the best advice I could give – or receive.  And just like Mom’s meatloaf, I’ve added a personal touch to build upon the overall guidance. This was the advice I wrote in the sketchbook:

Always remember that wherever you go, you have to take yourself with you; always remember that wherever you go, you get to take yourself with you.

The original message from my friend with “have to” addresses personal accountability in any given situation. Once when I was having conflicts at work, at home and in a volunteer endeavor, it dawned on me that with so much conflict in those days, perhaps I was the problem. Whether being unreasonable, failing to see others’ perspectives, or just plain grumpy, I was well-served to do a personal assessment before spending another second on what people around me were saying or doing. When frustration envelopes me in all directions, I’m obliged to recognize how my own thoughts, words or actions are affecting (tainting) the situation –  and my outlook.

When “have to” in that first sentence is changed to “get to”, the theme shifts from accountability to empowerment.  We get to take ourselves with us. We aren’t just stuck with ourselves. We are blessed with ourselves.  When frustration envelopes me in all directions, I have the ability to recognize how my own thoughts, words or actions could affect (improve) the situation – and my outlook.

Our ability as humans to live and thrive together in this world can be boiled down to how we balance personal accountability and self-empowerment. As our kids started school this week during a pandemic this is the core of what I want them to consider this school year.  Will their life be better in a different situation? Or can their life be better if they are better? With so much out of our control, we can control our own thoughts, words and actions and when we address those, some of the worst of situations can shift.  This was the back-to-school discussion in our house. And , it took place over some hand-crafted,  made-with-love meatloaf. 

My friend sent these pictures to me at the end of her trip to see me - I mean, at the end of her trip to hike the Cascades.

The sun in the Cascade Mountains. Is it rising or setting? Photo by Liv Zabka

On top of the Cascades. Photo by Liv Zabka