Garage Sales

My mom loved garage sales.  I've been thinking about that a lot as I prep for my first sale in four years.  As I sweep and dust and re-locate the non-sale items, between my moments of embarrassment for leaving my garage in a "make-do" mode for so long I try to remind myself why Millie loved this ritual so much.  After all, as I survey my domain, it's clear this isn't a way to get rich. There is nothing cost effective when a two-day sale requires a week of prep to get rid of items at five and ten cents. I'm doing this, I tell myself, to be a good neighbor to other garage salers who are exceptional neighbors to me.  Okay, that's reason enough.

For Mom, it was never about money; rather, she loved the sale--she had been a sales clerk at J.C. Penney's before she married Dad--and the socializing with friends and customers alike.  Mom was one of those people who truly didn't know a stranger.  I once left her alone on a mall bench while I shopped.  Fifteen minutes later she had the life history of the woman who had sat down beside her.  A garage sale, then, she saw as a gold mine of conversation and community news.  Only once did her sale threaten to go sour.  At a sale she was running for our neighbor, two women got into a shoving match over a refrigerator.  To be honest, I think Mom sort of enjoyed the spectacle--the other customers certainly did.  Fortunately for the sale, one of the customers was local law enforcement who played Solomon, and Mom got her money.

Mom was at her best when she teamed with my aunt, Maxine.  Together, they gave customers the one-two punch.  While Mom loved the social aspects most, Maxine zeroed in on the "kill," as she would say:  the sales for a profit.  Her goal was always a bare garage.  You had to be careful when Maxine was in prime form, though.  One Friday I stopped by their garage sale after teaching.  Taking a few minutes to chat with Mom, I didn't notice Maxine at work--until I bent down to pick up my tote bag with papers and gradebook.  She had sold it, literally behind my back.  At that moment I moved faster than the customer, who was pulling out the drive, to rescue my students' papers.  When I returned to the garage, Max was still at it.  She had plopped a bunch of plastic flowers in the garage trash can (not intended for sale) and sold it as a bouquet.

Thinking about my own garage sale venture, I guess I'm like Maxine in that I want to end up with a bare garage.  But perhaps the payoff already has occurred for me, because the prospect of a neighborhood sale has forced me to make decisions I have avoided for seven years.  I finally opened some drawers that were filled with Mom's things and decided that now is the time to share them with others.  Thinking about how much she loved sales, I know she would approve.

Student Debt-Free

Obama Sidesteps Congress to Expand Student Loan Repayment Program

Today, President Obama is yet again proposing another relief measure for the thousands of students mired in student loan debt, which now exceeds $1.2 trillion.  The stats go something like this:  about 70% of the seniors who graduated in 2012 had student loan debt, on average $29,400.  According to Project on Student Debt the rate of debt increased a yearly average of six percent from 2008 to 2012.  Kansas students fared a bit better.  In 2012 the average student loan debt was $23,677, according to that same source, with 59% of undergraduates reporting debt.  My alma mater, the University of Kansas, had half of its undergraduate student body reporting debt, and that was on the low side for the state.  Only Pittsburg State was lower; it was in the mid-30’s.  Two Kansas private non-profits exceeded 80% of their students being in debt.   

That could have been me had it not been for Mike Schwartz.  Mike Schwartz was the president of Citizens State Bank in Paola when in 1964 I asked for a National Defense Education Act (NDEA) loan.  That program came about as a direct result of the Sputnik scare in the late 1950’s.  The Russians were first in space, which meant we were behind, which meant our schools must not be doing the job, so we had to put more money into education, especially science and foreign language—or the Commies would take over America.  I didn’t want the Commies to take over America, and I wanted to go to college, so Dad and I walked down to Citizens Bank to take out an NDEA loan to help pay tuition.  Mr. Schwartz refused me the loan.

He refused!  Given who was getting the loans through other banks, I had just assumed they were ours for the taking.  I’m sure the shock and embarrassment registered on my face. 

“I could give you a loan,” he said, “but I’m not going to.  You won’t understand now, I know, but I’m doing you a huge favor,” he continued.  Looking at my dad, he added:  “These are a bad idea.”  Instead, he pulled out a tablet and helped us draw out a budget not only for my college but for my brother’s.  Together, the two of us have five degrees with no loans and no debt.

Of all the wonderful advice and gifts I have received over the years, I hold that one by the banker, whom many called “Scrooge” behind his back for his conservative business practices, to be one of the most valuable I’ve received.  Mike, NOW I understand.

But I wonder if the general public really does comprehend the danger that this debt in excess of one trillion dollars presents--not only to individuals holding the debt but to our very culture.  How many grad students stay grad students because the fear of having to pay off the debt is greater than the prospects of yet more study?  How many people have to by-pass their public service instincts because a debt looms?  How many houses go un-purchased because would-be buyers have poor credit ratings due to student debt?  How many jobs go un-offered now that credit checks have become part of employment review?  How many people develop a reliance on purchasing on credit because they already are mired in student debt?  

Some cassandras have warned that the student loan debt debacle is a bubble ready to make the mortgage bubble look like a burp.  I hope not....

Lives Too Slender

How long ago was it that Elliot Rodger resolved his feelings of rejection by killing six and wounding even more at Santa Barbara?  With our short retention, we’ve forgotten it, haven’t we, even though his problems could teach us a lot, especially when he lost connection with everything and everyone except World of Warcraft and the Lottery.

Now the delusion for this week comes from Wisconsin where two 12 year olds stabbed a “friend” 19 times as a rite of some sort that would get them to meet Slender Man, a stickman created as part of a contest and morphed into something that apparently way too many ‘tweens have decided is real.  

Really?  Yes, just check YouTube and discussion forums.  Even the conversations about the Wisconsin events mix fiction and reality.

Did I ever get wrapped up in my games and take them into reality?  Sure.  Mary Sue was my alter ego for years—until I was four.  And growing up doing the boom years of science fiction films, my friends and I were attacked by giant ants (“Them”) and blobs all the way home from the movie theatre.  That was when I was six and seven.  But even as I was playing up and down the town alleys and over several days, I knew the difference between the “game” and reality, and I had moved on to other things once I hit the double digits.

What were you doing when you were 12?  I was in sixth grade.  I was reading Hardy Boys and getting A’s and earning badges in Girl Scouts and participating in a charades club.  Sometimes I helped my dad in the garden or even on the oil lease, and I helped my mom bake in the kitchen and take care of my little brother.  I went to Catechism every Saturday and Mass every Sunday.  I was taking flute lessons and baton lessons and I was mesmerized with American Bandstand.  At school I was in the band and my entire class was in square dancing.  

I bet you can come up with a similar list that combines new adventures that expanded your horizons with family responsibilities that reminded you that you were important to others.  That combination of expanding experiences and assuming responsibilities seemed to be missing from Elliot Rodger’s existence?  What do you suppose is the situation with these girls for whom a bunch of pixels is more real than their friend?

Something to Learn

After the most recent mass homicides I hear, “we should focus on the victims.”  Some even go so far as to refuse to mention the killer’s name.  While the purpose of focusing on victims is laudable, perhaps, and even wise if doing so discourages publicity-seeking copycat killers, I fear that another motive for some may be avoiding the complexities of the killer’s deeds.  Instead, we gravitate to what have become almost taglines to mass killings—mental health and availability of guns (despite the fact that three in the Isla Vista, California killings were stabbed).  This recent case is different from other recent ones, it seems to me, in that the killer, Elliot Rodger, left behind a memoir.  Though exhausting and depressing to read, and though it is reality as seen through the looking glass of a woefully troubled individual, it still points to some truths that need not pass through the NRA or other lobbying barriers--especially those involving the individual’s education and socialization.  It reveals a lot more, I think, but let me zero in on this area, one I know something about.  

A couple of qualifiers:  I am not a psychologist and make no pretense of analysis.  I have taught several community college students diagnosed with Asperger’s, however.  While that condition has its own challenges, he did not become a killer because of it. I also want to emphasize that my comments are not intended as criticism of anyone; rather, I merely want to observe the moments when another choice might help someone faced with making decisions for another troubled child.

I was chilled when I read his debate about whether to target the college or the community on the Day of Retribution.  What does his story tell us that could help others—parents, friends, and teachers—support a troubled student enough to decide that life is worth living? 

•  Athletics:   Throughout life, his height troubles him, especially when it comes to sports.  Skateboarding offered respite, but what if a child filled with similar frustrations were to try a sport such as gymnastics where small build is a value?  Or a size-neutral sport such as golf?  
• Learning:  The students I have had with Asperger’s are often bright, though often extra effort is required to get them to interact appropriately.  That appears to be part of the problem throughout his school years.  What if a similar child had a learning coach (see Supplemental Instruction, for example) in the classroom with him to provide interaction, guidance, and interpersonal communication? 
  
• Socialization:  Missing from his tale is anything about giving—until he is in college with a life coach.  Wouldn’t some sort of sharing/giving ritual be a helpful routine for a person with difficulty communicating and feeling empathy?  Even setting a practice of answering a single daily “what have I done for another?” would have its own value.  I found the artificiality of setting “play dates” for him throughout his school years very sad.  Couldn’t higher ed. institutions provide an academic group environment with learning communities and opportunities for peer-to-peer collaboration?
  
• Classes:  Why do students think less is better?  I shook my head each time the writer reported on his two or three classes.  And an online class for a person who needs human interaction? Why was 16-18 hours the norm in years prior to computers, yet now nine or 12 seems to be a full load?  For many college students, the other half of their lives is taken up with a job or two, which makes a light load wise.  But wouldn’t a student who is not engaged in ongoing activity outside of college benefit from a robust schedule with a variety of course demands (fine arts, phys. ed. in addition to traditional academics, for example) distributed across the week rather than a sparse one with long gaps between classes? 
  
• College Choice:  Some people confuse community college with high school.  Wrong. Some schools are quite large:  Enrollment at Santa Barbara City College is at least 20,000 according to their web site, and my former school is comparable.  And, while I cannot speak about SBCC, I know that the commuter nature of my former school made it difficult for students to develop friendships, form groups, and become engaged in school communities.  Likewise, when a community college has no dorms, the lack of on-campus housing complicates monitoring students in need; there are no resident hall personnel to check in on troubled students.  Wouldn’t a small, residential liberal arts college with a strong support service for struggling students make sense?
  
• Apartment Living:  An important part of the college experience is the campus life.  Apartment living away from the campus itself is not always ideal.  Wouldn’t a student needing to develop social skills do better in a living environment directly associated with the school, with campus supervisors present to provide support?
  
• Apartment Living 2:  The killer lived in an arrangement where he gained roommates at random.  True, the roommate-at-random is often the norm in resident halls as well, but in that environment there is some sort of residence hall supervision available.  If I had a child with a known socialization issue, wouldn’t I be wise to work with the school to establish the best living arrangement possible? Though I was adamantly opposed to the elitism of the Greek system when I was in college, it has changed enough that I might have second thoughts if I were a parent with a college-aged son or daughter, today.  Who does a better job of research prospects than fraternities and sororities?  I would do my best to avoid the temptation to run a background check on the roommate(s) after this incident, but I would be tempted. 
  
• Counseling Articulation:  The last pages of the manifesto identify a therapist in the writer’s hometown and life coaches available to him in Isla Vista, apparently from a private company.  Support from the school isn’t mentioned.  (It won the Aspen Award, which indicates some excellence in all its services, including student support and counseling. ) Were the services used?  Apparently not.  Why not?  This lack of articulation isn’t unusual.  Three times in two years, I had troubled students who had at least two—and in one case, three—therapists, who did not communicate with each other, or me.  Why can’t privacy regulations be waived in such cases to allow articulation among private and school counselors AND the instructors involved?

These are the education-related points related to the Isla Vista killings that struck me as significant to discuss.  I’m confident others who work with students will find more. 

Trigger Warnings

Article:  Colleges Wrestling with Trigger Warnings

BuzzFeed:  Trigger Warnings

 

This morning I learned a new term (for me):  trigger warnings.  According to Buzzfeed, this phrase evolved from clinical psychiatry, but now it is appear in some college syllabi—cautions, in other words, that some content in a course could possibly trigger a reaction of some sort in individuals who have previously experienced unpleasant or traumatic events.  The clear suggestion in the article I read is that instructors and/or programs, depending on who controls the course content, could be held liable for negative experiences of students should class content trigger a negative response.  The dateline being California, I initially thought this is just a “California thing,” but evidently not, which re-affirmed the correctness of my decision to have bailed from teaching.  

How does one possibly teach college-level English—writing, reading, criticism—with material intended to “go against the grain,” as our theorists write, if we’re expected to disclose the “against the grain” components in advance?  Now, that’s not saying that I’m not sensitive to individuals’ needs:  I always took into account my students and their communities as I selected material, especially their moral sensibilities.  When I taught high school, I provided disclaimers and alternatives when I taught a controversial book.  I have had students thank me for that.  I wouldn’t do that in college, though, because we should be working at theoretical and critical levels that move us beyond narrative.  And with some material, we need to respect the author’s evoking pathos (the emotional) as well as logos (the rational).  

Sadly, I don’t think attorneys understand that, and this sort of decision making smacks of yet another legal intrusion into academia:  “Cover rears—insert trigger warnings throughout course to avoid helicopter parents and possible legal action.”  Admittedly, I’ve never experienced a life-altering trauma that would trigger, for example, an anxiety attack or PTSD.  I have, however, been exposed to materials in school that triggered a strong response in me.  I dealt with them on my own as they occurred and did not expect any special consideration, however.  I stepped outside the class during the showing of a film that recounted trials similar to those my dad experienced in his final days, and, though I respect Joan Didion’s writing immensely, I used only selected passages with my students, because her “year of magical thinking” reminded me too much of my own after my mother died.  The point is that I made my own decision and acted on it.

Some might say, yes, but these are students who feel intimidated.  True, but, in the long run, who is the “trigger warnings” provision as currently proposed really helping?  Not the students, I would argue, if the result is an unrealistic, sanitized environment where they can avoid anything troubling.  I remember when my oldest nephew was a toddler.  A family acquaintance appeared one day with a bag full of tools to “child proof” the house—covers for electrical outlets, locks for cabinets and stove knobs, etc., etc.  My simple question was, “So, who is going to ‘child proof’ his world, or, in the short term, Gram’s house?”  How, in other words, would he learn realistic safety boundaries that would allow him to navigate the real world?  

Wouldn’t the individuals who experience triggers be better served by having a path to cope rather than an escape?  I think back to the brilliant move by my Senior English teacher when she discovered that at our Catholic academy Catcher in the Rye and Lord of the Flies, among several books, were banned with the statement that reading them constituted a MORTAL sin.  She went against the grain by requiring the books and challenging us to do two things:  1) determine why her colleagues had banned them, and 2) establish criteria that set literature apart from objectionable reading.  We then were assigned to compare our list to well-respected secular and religious literary critics.  My take-away from that lesson was not only tools to apply in the future but the confidence that our instructor trusted us to take responsibility and make sound decisions.

College Wrestling with Trigger Warnings 

Trusting the individual to take responsibility is what needs to happen with this warnings debate, I think.  Rather than making the instructor the responsible party to somehow anticipate all the things in a course that might trigger traumatic responses with students he/she has yet to meet, I suggest a blanket statement in the syllabus of students’ responsibilities and rights regarding controversial material, a statement which invites communication with the instructor and suggests alternative pathways to engagement.  Give the student true control, in other words, and tools now that can be used in the future.