Bah! Humbug!

When did mainstream America become so mean-spirited?  A casual glance on local and national news outlets and following stories on social media has revealed a society that makes Ebenezer Scrooge look like a mere cream puff.


A recent poll on Huffington Post revealed that 56% of those polled were in favor of sending Central American refugee children home...no questions asked...just throw the  rabble out! About 40% of the same population were in favor of letting them remain until each got a hearing( called "due process"),and then throw them out, if the judge says so.


And as for "due process", people who are definitely NOT in the know are running their mouths about "teacher tenure"...which, for those who are outraged that educators have a job "for life",  means teachers are entitled to "due process" when it comes to arbitrary dismissal.  It was started as a response to chronic and systemic nepotism that was the pervasive way of doing business in school districts across the country in the 40's and 50's when the profession was top-heavy with women. A tenured teacher could not be dismissed for political or subjective reasons by her usually male superior who might want to give the position to a political crony's relative or to just a younger, and thus lesser salaried, person.  Don't kid yourselves, these things did and sometimes still do happen.  No teacher wants to protect an incompetent teacher or a teacher who is hurting students emotionally or physically.  They are a pox on the profession, and need to move on.  And, full disclosure here, I was a tenured teacher.


And it seems to me that more people than is logically possible claim to be spokesmen for various groups wrapping themselves in the mantel of justice...and this knife cuts both ways.


A recent horrific death occurred quite near my home.  A man, who the police have said was engaged in illegal activity of a minor nature, died in police custody under circumstances that are under investigation. He was selling loose cigarettes at a local park that is frequented by junkies.  The park, diagonally across the street from my home, is a respite of green criss-crossed with paths and benches and a fountain that no parent would let a child enter, nor would any local resident seeking a cool spot to sit and rest ever think of stopping there.


The community has been complaining for a long time that this place needed to be cleaned up, so the local precinct was sweeping by more often with this tragic result. There have been local demonstrations supporting both the police action and the grieving family the deceased left behind. A nationally-known, locally-based Civil Rights leader has taken up this tragedy as a personal quest and had announced a massive march and demonstration two weeks from this Saturday that would, in effect, close down the major artery than links this island with the rest of New York City: the Verrazano Narrows Bridge.  He has announced that he has "earned" the right to criticize the Police Department.


This event has the potential of virtually grid locking this island, and backing up traffic to the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Our local politicians are outraged; the local populace is asking the mayor to intervene; the police commissioner says the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, not the mayor, has to approve closing the bridge.  The Metropolitan Transportation Authority says all the mayor has to do is ask them, and they would comply with the city's wishes. No one is happy; everyone is blaming everyone else, and it seems that there is no room for compromise.


What has happened to civil discourse?  Why is everything a "line in the sand" event?  Where are the cooler heads?  As a nation perhaps we need to take a step, or two, back and look at ourselves. This is not how mature adults act within the context of democracy...I could be wrong, but I doubt it.  We need to begin to think about how our actions impact "the other".


A recent guest on a local NPR radio show was taking about how Americans are isolated into circles of people with whom they feel comfortable.  Many of us don't even know our neighbors, and others have no interaction with people from different ethnic and economic groups.  This had led, according to the commentator, to an alienated society in which we box ourselves into smaller and smaller social units.  We need to begin conversations across these units if we are to survive as a society.

The Challanges of Rooftop Gardening

On the Balcony

In 2012 I sold my 10 room house in the New Dorp section of Staten Island and bought a two-bedroom, two bath condo in St George quite close to the Staten Island Ferry.  The one thing that really sold  me on this place was the 925 square feet of outdoor space from the combined areas of a balcony and a roof deck.  It felt like having a private "back yard" eight stories above street level with a great water view.  The challenge was to make the space comfortable and useful while trying to be a sophisticated urban garden space, but a garden dependent on container plantings.

My inspiration was a friend who lives in Manhattan on the Upper Westside.  Her wonderful apartment has a U-shaped wrap around roof deck with many mature plantings. The apartment had been in her family for many years, and she has spent much time honing in on which plants work best in her space. The bulk of her space faces south with a shorter seating area facing east and a dining area facing west.  She shared with me her greatest challenges, and I have come to agree with her: choosing the best suited plant for the space and watering correctly.

On the roof deck

Another helpful source was a relative who is a landscape architect.  He sketched out possible seating options including planting containers, benches and placement of tables and chairs. He also was emphatic about the need for correctly placing plants in adequately sized containers and the importance of placement and watering.  His basic plan was an outline for me in laying out and defining the outdoor space. 

Roof deck plantings

The "plant guy" at my local garden center has been invaluable coaching me on the proper plants to withstand the ever-present harbor breeze that can quickly turn into a fast wind as the weather systems roll over us.  He basically told me that even if I love hydrangeas, lilacs and miniature Douglas fir trees, they are just not good choices for my particular roof deck which faces East and South garnering some intense sunlight from early Spring until the crisp dappled days of Autumn turn the local trees  lovely shades of golden yellow and bright crimson red.                      

My journey to the perfect roof top garden is far from over, but I am on my way. I have learned things both the easy and hard way.  Easy because the space is self-defining, it is what it is, and it will be the same shape year after year; hard because I have had to admit that some of my favorite plants are not a good fit for this particular place.  I lost one hydrangea, two fir trees, one hostas plant, a three foot rosemary bush, and a hibiscus.  I learned that the firs don't like to be in pots, nor do they like direct sunlight, which I have plenty of.  The rosemary bush should have been brought inside for the winter, and the same goes for the hibiscus.  Both could have survived outside, my "plant guy" noted, but we had a brutal winter, and I did not lace them in a sheltered spot, nor did I wrap them in burlap for good measure.



Potting Table and herbs

I did learn something from our extremely cold and snowy winter.  The wind driven snow drifts on the deck gave me a visual map of what the wind patterns are.  This was helpful in the placement of plants that can withstand a breezier spot to sit and grow.

So, what do I currently have outside? On the balcony I have a table with some herbs and succulents: Parsley, mint and a small pepper plant sit with some annuals in small pots.  I do have a rose bush...the kind that line the Westside highway...and I replaced the hibiscus with a hearty variety called "Mallow" with huge red blossoms that will survive the winter with some trimming.


On the deck I have my cast iron potting table that also holds some herbs: rosemary, parsley and oregano with another pot of flowering annuals and a coleus that I will take inside later in the year.  The hostas were joined by a fern from the altar of Christ Church...was it there for Easter?  I am not sure, but I also have another Easter Lily that is summering on the deck.  I hope it will become a yearly roof bloomer. Two tomato plants with basil and two eggplants are an experiment to see if I can have some fresh homegrown produce. So far, I have had two tomatoes and made some wonderful mint/basil pesto for my linguini.




In my problem corner, I have purchased a "stoneplant" that the above referenced "plant guy" has assured me will do well.  I am not a fan of its looks, but if it thrives, I will be happy.  I will miss the hydrangeas and the lilacs I wanted to grow, but I think I will come to love the plants that survive.

Public Behavior

A recent high school graduation in my home community of St. George on Staten Island in New York City was suddenly cut short by the principal for what some staff members indicated was inappropriate behavior on the part of parents and potential graduates.  In discussing this issue with a parent of a lower classman at that same institution, one from which one of my own children graduated several years ago, a statement was made that gave me pause. "People just don't know how to behave in public," my colleague stated. Plain and simple...his Mid-Western sensibilities took over, and he merely stated what he took to be obvious to all: public decorum is just not what it used to be. And I have to agree. The standards for acceptable behavior are at an all time low. 


I thought about some very bad behaviors I have observed over the past year and had to agree with my friend's statement:


On March 17th...St Patrick's Day to you all, I was on a morning ferry en-route to meet my sisters and nieces waiting to see our brother march down Fifth Avenue with his pipe band.  I took my normal starboard seat on the Molinari ferry...overlooking Brooklyn, usually the quieter side for those who must see the Statue of Liberty on the port side on the trek to Manhattan.  I was greeted that day by a bevy of teenagers dolled up and decked out for the parade.  It was obvious to me that they were skipping school  this day to enjoy the festivities in the "city". They were loud and obviously indulging in some under-age drinking, pushing and shoving each other and running up and down the outer deck.  I decided I needed to dodge this crowd and get myself inside where quieter souls were on their way to work and reading the morning paper while sipping their morning coffee.


"I know, Miss, we are too loud, right?", one of the girls said," But we are entitled today because we are Irish."


I was stunned.  My grandparents immigrated from Ireland in the early 20th century to find a better way of life, not to allow their great-grandchildren to act in an inappropriate manner in public.  My reply? " Yes, you are loud, and no, you are not entitled."  She then called me a "b**ch".


Again on the ferry, on the way home from an afternoon of work in downtown Brooklyn, a three-year old is running back and forth on the long bench I am sharing with his Mother.  She turns to me, smiles and says, "What can I tell you?  He does whatever he wants to."  Really, Mom?  Who is the adult here?  Step up to the plate and discipline your child.  Be the grown-up.


I don't want to hear your excuses...please take responsibility.  It isn't easy being a parent.  Children do NOT rule the world.  Parents, what kind of legacy are you leaving behind?  Please, teach your children what acceptable behavior is. Civilization depends upon it.

Unacceptability

Over my many years in the education business I have heard many, many, many people use these two phrases: "It is unacceptable" or "Zero Tolerance". As far as I am concerned, these two sentences are hollow phraseology for "I have no idea what to do, but I need to sound as if I am 'in charge'."


How many politicians can you recall who have noted that something or another was "Unacceptable"?  It could be the whole House of Representatives and Senate combined.  And members of the Executive Branch are not immune to the over use of these phrases.  From our President  and cabinet members to the local Federal Prosecutor, we hear this vapid response to a myriad of problems.   Has the number of unemployed risen? Unacceptable! Not enough green spaces in your neighborhood? Unacceptable! Poor health care choices? Unacceptable! Too few hospital beds in low income neighborhoods? Unacceptable! Not enough choices at the local supermarket? Unacceptable!  So, whattaya gonna do about it buddy?


And what exactly does it mean?  It means that whoever is in front of a rolling camera can't think of anything helpful to say.


Oh, have I mentioned to you how much I wonder why the phrase "Zero Tolerance" has become such an accepted part of our vocabulary when it comes to behaviors that are not socially correct?  I can't tell you how many school administrators I knew or was in contact with would use this phrase to parents, teachers and students when explaining the school's policies surrounding behavior which was, as they deemed, well... "unacceptable".  Many schools have "Zero Tolerance" policies in place for things like: wearing hats in the building, chewing gum in school, eating or drinking in classrooms and hallways, not coming to school prepared with pen, pencil and /or notebooks, uncompleted homework, running through the halls, cursing at school staffers, etc. 


So what did this mean in true practice? It depended on the school structure.  Several schools had strong follow-up for students failure to follow "rules, routines and procedures", but others allowed these restrictions to slip as the school year progressed, and other more pressing ( in their estimation) issues came to the forefront.  For many students, school is the one safe place in their lives and the only place they can actually get a healthy meal. And what is more important, arguing with a teenager over a Yankee hat, or preventing a fist fight?


Most folks who are using these platitudes for placation have no real resolution to the issues they are labeling as not tolerated or just plain unacceptable.  Can we agree to just stop using them, and start looking at viable solutions?

Cultural Issues

Traveling abroad, as I am wont to do, often entails some cultural adjustments to make the trip run smoothly.  In most hotels in which I have stayed in Europe, breakfast is included in the price of the room.  In addition to the normal breakfast foods such as eggs, cereal, juices, rolls, breads, butter, preserves and toast, you may also find cheese, seasonal raw or grilled vegetables, yogurt, dried meats, pastries and  local produce such as figs, dates or melons.  Try something new while you are there.  Grilled tomatoes in the British Isles and  Ireland are an interesting addition to breakfast, as is herring in Scandinavia and communally shared baked eggs and beef in Morocco. 

Traveling by train is also an interesting way to go.  I have been on trains in Belgium, France, Germany, England and Scotland, and have found them to be an efficient way to get around.  In England, especially, I have found the trains to be a great way to travel.  I usually buy a local newspaper and sit in a quiet spot.  No one bothers me, except the occasional person who asks me for directions.  And that has happened in more places then you  think: Galway, London, Amsterdam and Dublin, to name a few places.  I guess I blend in except when I open my mouth to speak.

Some European and North African hotels require you to insert the key card to a flat wall holder to activate the room's electricity.  Bring any credit card sized card, such as a Metro Card or library card with you to insert in the slot while you are out.  That way you can re-charge your electronics while you are out, or even set the air conditioner on low to cool your room upon your return ( got that tip from a fellow traveler on this trip).




On this last trip I faced some unusual cultural barriers as a Western woman traveling in North Africa.

Prior to my trip I spoke with several friends and acquaintances as to what the proper attire would be for both walking through the local market and visiting a mosque, since both activities would be included in my trip.  I also took to stopping random Muslim women in the mall to ask them the same questions.  Everyone of them was happy to give me advice, and I am grateful to them all or sharing  their thoughts with me. I learned the following:

1. If possible, wear a wedding ring even if you are
unmarried. I found my Mother's wedding ring and wore it on the trip.  I was told this would make any interaction with a male: merchant or scholar, just easier.  And it did.

2. Try not to have bear arms or wear shorts or capri pants....Since I don't have a pair of capri's...it did not make any difference. I did have shorts to wear under a long abaya (traditional long dress) provided by an Egyptian friend that would allow me to be more comfortable walking around on the streets of Casablanca, Marrakesh or Fez without the uncomfortable glances Westernized dress can bring on the street.

3. If you wear pants in North Africa, try to top it off with a tunic.  You will not be calling attention to yourself and, just as a tip, bring a hat.  The sun at mid-day  is intense, and a hat will help with personal ventilation.

4. You don't need to cover your hair except if you are going into a Mosque...and you might be able to do that if it is NOT time to pray...which happens five times a day, so keep an eye on the time!

As an American woman who is also a clergyperson, my experience entering mosques was interesting.  Since my luggage remained at JFK missing the plane, (got it back the next day) I had to go out and find something appropriate to wear to the mosque. I was able to find an very nice light green abaya to wear to the Al  Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca for a private tour given by a member of the local Ministry of Islamic Affairs.  The imam's wife, who we were traveling with, helped me to get my hair covered with a traditional hijab.  I  looked like  any other Muslim woman going into the Mosque. I felt very safe and comfortable...and absolutely invisible.

 

El Hassan II Mosque 

I began to notice that the man leading our group did not look directly at me when I asked a  question. I was left out of any conversation he initiated.  He would begin talking before I got into the group circle, and as he led us into the craftsmen museum, he actually left me behind twice.  Other men I encountered on this trip talked over me, skipped over me on lines, and replied only to my questions when they were repeated by a male in my party.  A professional woman I met told me that as a religious Muslim woman,  her first duty was to be a good wife and mother, and then pursue her chosen profession.  I wondered where that left me as a widow whose children are all grown and on their own.  It seems I would be living with family members and not necessarily involved in much more.

Well, it was an interesting trip.  It gave me a new appreciation for the acceptance of diversity and the ability of all members of our society to pursue their individual hopes dreams without societal restrictions.

Morocco and Ramadan

I just returned from a seven day sojourn in Morocco during the holy month of Ramadan, the month in which Muslims celebrate the revelation of the Koran and fast from sun rise to sunset.  This fast is required of all who are able, excepting nursing mothers, pregnant women, travelers or those with medical conditions that prohibit this kind of discipline.  And discipline it is.  The call to prayer comes five times a day, and the one at 3 o'clock in the morning harkens the faithful to pray and eat before the sun rises.  This is when breakfast is eaten, showers taken and teeth are brushed. No food or drink, including water, will pass the lips of the faithful until the call to break the fast comes as the sun sinks into the western  horizon.



King Hassan II Mosque, Casablancaa

And although there are many similarities that exist in looking at both Ramadan and the Christian season of penitence, Lent, there are also significant differences.  Both are movable feasts,  Lent primarily happens in the Spring of the year.  Ramadan cycles through the year and  can occur in any season.  The next few years will see it happen in summer for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere.  This means longer days for the faithful followers with longer stretches of time between meals. Most are fasting between 4:00am and 7:00pm in the evening around fifteen hours that encompasses the hottest hours of the workday.   And the heat in Morocco can be extremely oppressive; one day we topped 100 degrees Fahrenheit.

Some workers can work around the heat: merchants don't open until the hottest time of the day is past They compensate for this by remaining open after the evening iftar (the meal that families share at the end of the fast). Others, like the construction workers we saw  along the highway, push their work into the evening hours when the nights are dry and cool.  They can also rehydrate during that time with water, something forbidden during the hours of the fast.


And through the day there is the constant reminder of one's humanity/mortality as the faithful are called from the minaret to pray.  Rugs are rolled out in the marketplace as folk face the east and repeat the prayers that are engraved on many buildings and in the hearts of believers...prayers in unison, following an ancient scripted format taught to the young and carried into adulthood.

The faithful at the Mosque, Marrakesh

But the culmination of the daily routine of this holy time of year comes as the sun has descended below the horizon and the call goes out to break the fast.  Night after night we witnessed hundreds, and in some cases, thousands of men, women and children walking to the local Mosque with prayer rugs slung over their shoulders to join with their neighbors in the ritual of familiar prayer: eight mandatory sets of prayers with an additional twelve optional ones for a sum total of twenty sets of chanted prayers with responses and a series of bowing, kneeling and prostrating. Men and women pray separately; the women often leave after the required eight sets to ready the table for the iftar.  Middle Eastern society still clings to a patriarchal system we in the West find restrictive, but more on that in a future piece.

Iftar in Fez

The iftar itself is like breakfast on steroids! Hard boiled eggs, honey covered pastries, dates, figs, crepes with strawberry preserves, skewered meats, nuts, and hearty soups made of lentils and pigeons (Yes, those pesky urban fliers are raised to be consumed in a rather gamey broth combined with carrots, onions and rice...not bad tasting, if I do say so.It does not taste like chicken...more like duck). It is tradition to break the fast with three dates and either water or milk.  This is a time to be with friends and family.


Souk in Marrakesh



Iftar in Rabat

 It is also a time to enjoy yourself and indulge the kiddos with sweets and treats. Family groups of moms, dads and kinder stroll through the market with balloons and cotton candy in hand. Grandparents hold the hands of toddlers and teens alike as they stroll along the rows of merchants selling everything from orange juice to copper lanterns with a few snake charmers thrown in for good measure. Shops and restaurants are open until  the wee hours, and young folks stroll by in clumps of males and females eyeing each other across the markets. Occasionally you will see a set of two or three couples walking together elbows barely touching...the mating dance in Morocco forbids overt touching in public, so this gentle flirtation is the closest they come to walking hand-in-hand.

And soon it is time again  to pray, and the ancient cycle continues.

Remembering John.

 For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

 

In this week’s readings we hear references to grace, gift and welcome.

This past week has been a time of grace and gifts and welcome here at  Christ Church as we celebrated the life of our rector emeritus, John Walsted.
Friday evening’s vigil for Father John was filled with moments of real grace as family members and friends shared warmest memories of  his life and work among us haring with us wonderful examples of a faith-filled journey.

Person after person rose to speak about how their encounter with John had made a real and moving difference in their lives.  Some spoke about how his love and faithfulness to this parish was a gift of grace.  Others spoke about the honest and open welcomeness he offered to many at his wonderful home. Still others offered thanksgiving for his work in the church and society for those who suffered undue discrimination in our society.

And the Saturday morning memorial service was a wonder to behold! Over 350 filled this glorious pace and clergy from across the diocese and across denominations gathered to process together in honor of his memory.  The heart-felt singing of our talented choir and the gifted sounds of Voyces, the vocal group he so loved and belonged to, brought an angelic quality to the whole proceedings.  The rousing and robust congregational singing was a wonderful testimony of the faith-filled gathering making a joyous sound unto the Lord in Father John’s honor.

And there was a feeling of welcome and celebration as we gathered at his house to remember him in word and music at the home he so loved.  Good food, good sounds, good conversation and many laughs as family, friends and colleagues sat and chatted about fond and funny memories woven into a sort of verbal quilt, or dare I say it, a vocal icon of a live well lived: a faithful life, a caring life, a life of love and a life of service.  A life lived in such a way as to be worthy of God’s free gift to us. 


May we all be able to live our lives to be so worthy of that great gift.