Fatherhood Paid For by You

I am pro-dad. I am also pro-American Taxpayer. I stumbled across this site today and have a puzzled feeling about it. I'm glad our government considers fatherhood important


http://www.fatherhood.gov/

I consider myself pretty savvy about government websites being as I'm an Early Childhood Educator and use some to gather statistics.

But I wondered if anyone ever heard of this site outside of DC and actually used it? It's been around since Clinton's time. It's a site that is taxpayer funded. And I've never heard of it. So many non-profits have great pro-dad websites that I wonder why as a taxpayer I'm funding this particular one? It has a library search engine for locating journal articles, but any library can help you with that and only researchers would generally use it.

So I thought maybe it's helpful for dads to connect with a program in their state and so I followed the directions to locate them. One was a parenting site for Indiana and the other one was the Indiana Department of Corrections!!! Yes, that is a site that dads should contact as a program to help them be a better father. (sarcastic emoticon inserted here!)

Then I wondered how many other things are already being done well better by others and yet we as taxpayers are funding identical or lesser quality websites and programs?

Thoughts? Or am I off-based?

Culture: Who Am I?

Living in the suburbs and working at a major university put me in the middle of lots of cultures different than mine. Those of us in education  know that this past decade's buzz words were "cultural diversity" and "multicultural education".  However, many of us who are midwestern Caucasian Christians often feel we don't have a culture. One trip to the local big box grocery store was like going overseas. People were dressed in a variety of ways not often seen in the country. Islamic women wore hijab to burkahs. Indian and Pakistani women wore saris. We had a large Middle Eastern community as well as Eastern Asia living within our community. Our school district included over 35 different languages. Depending on what part of the community you happened to be in, Christianity was not the majority religion. As you can imagine, this allowed us to sample and enjoy food from all over the world with authenticity - not Americanized versions.  Being in this environment was fabulous, but at the same time caused me to wonder more about my own culture. Did I have one?

Of course we all have a culture. It's made up by our race, our ethnicity, family traditions, rituals, religion, and community. Each one of us value particular things, eat particular foods for family gatherings, and celebrate milestones in specific ways that is unique to our culture. But being a White Midwesterner seemed boring compared to other people's culture.

Last summer, my second cousin invited me to be a part of her Ancestry.com page. I was intrigued by how much work she put into it and the information she found about our side of the family. It was exciting enough that I began my own page. Without  paying for access (Yeah...I'm frugal), I was able to start the tree and use other google sources to trace my family back to Switzerland back to the 1500s! I found newspaper articles about past relatives in the civil war and a gravestone of one who fought in the Revolutionary War. The most interesting articles though were about my religious roots. Most of us who grew up in my hometown have Anabaptist roots. Our Old Order ancestors came here from Switzerland because of religious persecution and to have freedom to practice faith without government interference.  Because of disagreements within the community in the later 1800s many left the Old Order Amish congregations and became New Order Mennonites (we called it Numanese in my family on Grandma's side), Defenseless Mennonites which later became the Missionary Church (which my family went to), and other Mennonite denominations. However, through all of this in my family's past, certain values, traditions, and food remained. I celebrate my Swiss heritage at our local festival each year and eat the food, but a part of me still wondered how it came about.

I write all of this because last week I went with my parents to an Amish family's home for dinner. It brought much of what I discovered about my culture full circle. As I ate particular foods, memories of Grandmas's cooking was apparent. She chopped her salad and made that sweet dressing the same way. She made that sweet sugar cream pie. The German accented English of the family reminded me of how Grandpa spoke. At the end of the evening, the family sang songs. They were hauntingly similar to mountain music of Appalachia. When they sang the German hymns, I was transported back centuries to hymns people sang soon after the Reformation. These German hymns have been passed down from one generation to the next. One of the guests asked the Grandmother of the home if she would yodel. Again, memories of Grandpa yodeling came to mind.

At the end, it was an evening reflecting on my roots and how I am the person I am today. Honestly, I was pretty amazed and a little proud. I came from an amazing group of people who thought that their beliefs and way of life was worth leaving what they knew, to go to an unknown place. Today many people of my culture also face persecution for what we believe. No, we don't face death, but we face losing jobs, being jailed, being called intolerant, etc. for being of a particular faith and having conviction to speak about our faith. My son was detained by police two years ago along with others jailed for even being associated with Christianity in our former suburban home. I wonder how people today will face this challenge of wanting to live out their faith in an intolerant environment?

Tennis Tournament and God's Name

We have girls in our church who play tennis. Yesterday my husband suggested we watch them play in a tournament that included three other rural community schools. As the girls and coaches gathered on the court for introductions and rules, we couldn't help but notice an interesting one. Along with being told that spectators have to be 10 feet away from the fence and coaches only could be on the sidelines of the court, the players were informed that they could not take the Lord's name in vain. Wait...what?

I can honestly say that I was pleasantly surprised. I don't like hearing people swear. Granted, there are times when only certain words fit a situation such as extreme pain (think catching your finger in the door) or incredible frustration, but overall, there really isn't a reason for general cursing, swearing and using profanity. Some people speak this way out of habit. Others, use it just to be perceived as tough, cool, or because they want to fit in with a group who speaks that way. But why do people use the name of God or Jesus Christ to swear? In Michigan, where many Muslims live, I never heard anyone damn anything by Allah or just say Mohammed as a swear word. Trust me, if you did that in Dearborn, you would have need to be concerned for yourself. In West Bloomfield, I never heard anyone use Yahweh in a way that was irreverent. But for some reason, people just use God or Jesus Christ in ways that are not prayerful or in discussion about their faith. I strike it up to bigotry against Christianity, or lack of sensitivity to be aware that it offends many, much like racial slurs offend.

But, back to the tennis match. Never, in the suburbs, did I ever hear a sports official address this specifically. In some respects, it is sad that high school students (and I'm also assuming their parents) have to be reminded of sportsmanlike language. On the other hand, the official could have just said, "No swearing or using offensive language." But I appreciate that he thought it important to remind all of us that even when things do not go our way, we have a choice in what words we choose to use. This rural community still honors traditional standards of many who live here. While not everyone believes in God, at least I've noticed that they have a tolerance for those who do.

Snow Removal?

I've just experienced my first big snow in the country. Maybe 4-6 inches fell. It's not a "big" snowfall, but it's the hardest so far here. Our previous state was known for heavy snow and so I was well versed in icy conditions and slush. I had a daily commute on mostly interstate highways of 45 minutes one way on a good day, and up to 2 hours in bad weather. I scheduled my work hours based on traffic patterns and weather because the highways were always backed up even in good weather. No matter how heavy the snowfall, the plows and salt trucks were out all hours until the bad conditions on the highways and local roads were gone. I often needed to wash my car because salt trucks were liberal with their supply on the highways. Even my subdivision in the city was plowed at least a day after a hard snowfall. Seeing the salt trucks and snowplows was a common sight.

So now, back to my experience in the country. I now have a commute from a city to the country with the majority of the drive on smaller, 2-lane highways. I assumed that since the traffic is always light, that driving on highways in snowy weather would be much easier than my previous experience. I was wrong. The major highway through town and the main streets don't appear plowed because apparently the town doesn't put the blade all the way down so as to conserve wear and tear. Seriously...this is what I was told. Since there remains a good two-inch layer of snow left on the roads, salt is almost useless - it can't reach the ice. Last night after dinner, the roads were still in this unplowed looking condition and we continued to slip and skid even though the majority of the snowfall had stopped hours before. No truck or plow was in sight.

As I read today's paper, I came across an article about the county worrying that it won't use up all of it's salt supply this year since they haven't had to use as much as in a usual year. I puzzled over this one. One of the main purposes of government is the safety of its people. It's why we hire police officers, fire fighters, dispatchers, and EMS personnel. Included in this is maintaining safe roads. I certainly would be fine with paying a little more in property taxes for the snowplows to put the blade all the way to the pavement, for more salt to hit the roads, and for the neighborhoods to get at least one pass from the plows. So now, after 36 hours since the snow fell, my street is still covered in slush. UGH!

On a good note, one of my neighbors used his snow-blower and blew out the snow from my front sidewalk. I watched him plow out the sidewalks on the entire street. That was kind of him. My husband often does that for others too. He shoveled out two of our neighbors drives without their knowledge. So while the county hasn't kept up with keeping our roads safe, I have a neighbor who took the time to make sure that those who walk on our neighborhood sidewalks will be. That's twice now in the past month that I've observed a neighbor acting in a neighborly way without looking for a thank-you. Honestly, I didn't witness that very often in the city.

Recycling...Or Not

One of my favorite personal feel-good acts for me in the suburbs was recycling. Our waste management company gave us a large plastic bin that I could throw in all of my recycling materials without having to separate them. I could toss in my paper with glass, all kinds of plastic (beyond #1 and #2) along with metal. It was great! I felt I was doing my small, easy part for caring for God's creation. I put out my recycle bin along with the large garbage bin on wheels out to the curb every week and it was emptied. I brought it back to the house and returned it to it's spot in my mud room. It gave me a small pleasure knowing that something that benefits us didn't take any effort except for walking an extra 20 feet from my kitchen garbage can to my mud room recycle bin. It was easy to fit into my life style.

In the suburbs, recycling is a part of every day life. We paid an extra 10 cents for every pop can or bottle including beer. Water, tea, coffee, and juice bottles were not included in this effort unfortunately. This incentive to recycle drink containers was a money maker for every youth group, school club group or sports team, and generally anyone who needed a little extra cash. Students went door to door asking people for their bottles and cans. Others who needed a little extra cash would walk along busy roads picking them up off of the street or look in public trash cans to see if they might find some tossed away. To redeem them, every grocery store had bottle/can return machines that counted your returns and spit out a ticket with the dollar amount. You took it to the cashier and got your cash. Why every state doesn't do this is beyond me. It helps the environment and you only spend an extra 5 minutes at the grocery store every week returning your bottles and cans before you head in for grocery shopping. It easily fit into everyone's lifestyle.

I worked at a major university in the state and as you can imagine, recycling is a major concern. Every hallway of every building had bins for paper, bottles and cans, and regular garbage. Not only every hallway but every suite of offices and classrooms had designated containers. No one, and I mean no one, ever threw regular office paper away in the garbage. You didn't print on paper unless you absolutely had to. Paper is valuable and it's not something to use without a purpose. Our largest can in the office was dedicated to recycling paper and paperboard. Another major effort was to reduce paper and plastic drinking and eating utensils. Although we had toss-away coffee cups, drinking cups, and plastic-ware, we made a concerted effort to bring in washables so that we were not filling up the garbage can. The School of Business took the Green effort to amazing lengths. Every single item you took out of their cafeteria was either completely recyclable or compostable. The plastic drink cups and straws were made out of corn by products and could be tossed into the university compost pile. Nothing except food went into the garbage.

Then I moved to the country were you think composting and renewing the earth would be even more important because we know how waste impacts farmland and groundwater. First, I didn't get a nice big garbage bin on wheels with an attached lid from waste management. We had to either purchase our own garbage can or put it out in bags. Nor did I get curbside recycling like I had in the suburbs. It took me about two weeks to find where I could take my recyclables. Thankfully it exists in town. BUT...there are lots of rules. I have to separate out everything into their own boxes/containers. Plastics can only be #1 and #2 but I can include plastic bags. Newspapers go in one container while the supplements, office paper, paperboard, and cardboard go in a different container. Metals cans go in another container except for aluminum, which has to be separated out. Glass goes in another container without lids. This means I have 6 boxes in the basement that have to fit into my trunk when I drive to the recycling station. It's really an effort to separate everything and train my husband about its importance, taking it all down to the basement and placing it in the appropriate box. It's much more than tossing it in my catch all bin like I had in the suburbs and putting the bin out to the curb each week.

This state does not have a bottle and can law, and so there isn't much of an incentive to keep these items out of the trash. Oh, there are metal recyclers who will pay you for aluminum, but that is a major effort to crush the aluminum cans and find a recycler in another city who will take them. Then there is the consideration of the gas mileage difference between what you "make" by taking in the cans and the cost of gas to transport them to the recycler.

I remember my first Sunday in church when I had a water bottle and didn't know where to put it. Of course I wouldn't throw it in the garbage. Who does that? It's recyclable! I actually felt a rise in my gut when I was told that there is no recycling there and I had to throw it in the trash. Intellectually, I understand that it's garbage. But here's the thing, we are each responsible for using it. We are the consumers of the garbage. By throwing it away and it ending in a landfill, it affects my water. It doesn't break down. It continues the mindset of consumerism and is the antitheses of living more simply. Without consciously thinking about it we are acting in a selfish manner. "I used it, I don't want to think about the "cost" to my environment and the extra time it takes to do something about it." It's not a political issue in my mind. I'm far from a liberal environmentalist. I'm a Christian who believes that when God gave the care of the earth into our hands, my response to his beautiful handiwork is to take an extra minute or two every day to do what I can to make his creation a safer, healthier place. If that means I have 6 boxes in my basement and that I have to drive to the recycle station 2 miles away once every two weeks, then so be it.

When Is A Lawnmower Not A Lawnmower?

As I was sitting with my dog on the ottoman that looks out of our living room window, I saw a sight that made me want to dig for my camera. An older gentleman was driving a lawnmower down the street. This machine was bright red and shiny and had a grocery store carry basket attached to the front of the mower. You can imagine what I was wondering. Was he going to the gas station up the street to get a coffee? Was he on his way to visit someone? Is it street legal to drive a lawnmower on the streets of a town?

Then I noticed that he stopped in front of my house, leaned down and picked something up out of the gutter. He placed it at his feet. He did a u-turn and proceeded to slowly drive the curb across the street. He again, leaned down, picked something up and placed it at his feet. At this point he drove down the next house and my dog then wanted my attention. It dawned on me that this man was picking up litter on the street. I was stunned. Really...I was. This man determined on this chilly winter day that he was going to pick up litter and make our street a little bit more pleasant. Who does this? I don't know who he is and wish I did so that I could thank him. He brightened my day.

Courtesy and Personal Service

I love to read. I mean, I really love to read. Outside of the two and half years in grad school when I literally didn't have time to read books of my own choosing, I easily read a book or two per week. If I'm on vacation, it's usually one per day. As you can imagine, libraries are a big part of my life. In the suburbs I had access to some pretty incredible libraries. One even had a coffee shop inside so that you could sit and read like you might at Starbucks. The library closest to my house was a branch library, but it still was award winning and it had a lovely fireplace where I could cozy up on a cushy couch to read a magazine.

Living in a large suburb, one often feels as part of a cog in a big machine. Everything is automated without much personal service. Ever since I started going to my local branch I was taught how to use the library. I look up books on the computer, find them, go to the check out station, scan my items, put them in my book bag, go through the book detector (kind of like walking through a metal detector) and I'm on my way. To return them, I slide them in the outside drop off. Depending on which library I went to, one was like a giant mailbox and the other had slits in the outside wall where you deposited them. If I had an overdue book, I received an email. If it was really overdue, I received something in the mail.

When I visited my local library in the country, I didn't know how to use it because I was so used to doing everything myself. Now, there was a media specialist who could direct me to the books I wanted. She knew pretty much about what they had. Side note: there is an entire section, not just shelf, devoted to JUST Christian romance novels and fiction. You wouldn't find that in the suburbs. When I went to check out the first time, I didn't know what to do because I didn't see any check out stations! I went to the desk to ask how I check out and she said, "I'll do it for you," and she did. She scanned my book, tore off the due date printout, placed it in the pocket of the book, and handed it to me. Wow. Personal contact.

I was standing in the racks the other day overhearing conversations the media specialist had with young students who came for various reasons after school. She was asking a teen about her school day, what went well, what didn't, etc. The teen was invested in the conversation. As I passed the children's room, it was abuzz with sounds of children constructing with Legos for the Lego club. I remember years ago having conversations with librarians about books. I lost that in the suburbs because I didn't have any contact with another who shared my passion for reading. I didn't realize until being in the country that I missed that.

And then today. I received an email a couple of days ago reminding me that I had a book due. I knew it, but I didn't have a chance to get to the library the next day to return it. Today it's one day overdue and I planned to return it or renew it today. Imagine my surprise when my phone rang and the person identified herself from the library letting me know that book was overdue and would I like to renew it? I replied yes and she renewed it. What??? A personal phone call to renew my book? Wow.