Teachers, mentors and investing in the future with somebody else’s money

College is expensive. Doing my best to help...
College is expensive. Doing my best to help…

I gave away thousands of dollars in the last two nights. Felt real good, too.

Gonna give away a little more next week. This could become a habit.
Of course, it’s not my money. I’m just doing my part with the local scholarship foundation. I help them evaluate applications and they found out I liked to talk in front of people, so Bazinga! – I became a presenter.
Having sent three kids through the school system and trying to help a couple of them find money to go to college, I remember the uphill struggle. College is expensive – make that EXPENSIVE.
Back in the day when I started my higher education, I was lucky enough to earn a scholarship that paid for classes, books and some of my housing. I went to a state college (now a university), got a whopping $1,800 per year that covered my tuition and books and had money left over.
These days, California state colleges are no longer the cheap alternative. The average undergrad pays more than $6,500 a year, not counting books or auxiliary class charges. Graduate school is even more. Ivy League schools are over the top; parents of students at these schools are basically buying the equivalent of a new car every year, just to keep their child on track for higher education.
So every little bit helps.
Part of the backstory to the scholarship granting process is reading applications. They both inspire you and break your heart. It also brought out my multiple personalities. The writer in me looked for style. The skeptic in me looked for holes in their stories. The supervisor in me looked for reasons to promote each student. The teacher in me looked for lessons they had learned. The mother in me looked for ways to help every single one.

The writer herself back in, well, the Nixon Administration
The writer herself back in, well, the Nixon Administration

And as someone who went through the college experience twice – once when I left high school during the Nixon Administration and again a couple of years age after raising my three children and deciding I really wanted to take “finish college” off my bucket list – I wanted to help each and every applicant have that experience.
The money we gave away came from fundraisers, appeals, memorial contributions; all donations from a supportive community. We wanted to give as many students we could a little bit of help, and those who needed a little more, enough to get them on the path to changing their lives and reaching at least some of their dreams. Not everyone who applied earned a reward, but I hope they learned from the attempt and will be determined to keep asking the world around them not for a handout, but for guidance and support to keep them going.
I got involved with the scholarship group because one of my mentors asked me if I would. Scholarships may be scarce, but mentors are all around us. Mentors can help us no matter where we are in our lifelong education process. I shared my feelings about mentors with the students, asking them to not only find them, but respect them and become mentors themselves.
Mentor is another word for teacher. When kids are small, it’s easy to point to the people who give them knowledge and skills as teachers. When you’re older and out of school, the process changes slightly and fate drops in people here and there to give you more tools and help you mold the way you approach things like working, parenting, growing and succeeding.

But when we’re older, working, removed from school and just keeping up with the band called Life, they become “mentors.” And when we become mentors, we gain the satisfaction that we’re paying back some cosmic debt. I wished I had a chance to tell the students how many times mentors have changed my life for the better. Look for them, I should have advised. They’re kind of like angels, you don’t always know they’re there to guide you until it’s too late.

My alma mater, Washington High School, circa 2011. It's been around since 1891; the facade was rebuilt to mimic the style of the original after it was severely damaged in the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. Photo by  Whitelily519(AmeliaChu)
My alma mater, Washington High School, circa 2011. It’s been around since 1891; the facade was rebuilt to mimic the style of the original after it was severely damaged in the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. Photo by
Whitelily519(AmeliaChu)

When you invite the world to your door, expect traffic

Amgen 2015, courtesy of up and coming media star Austin Dave of Signal Multimedia
Amgen 2015, courtesy of up and coming media star Austin Dave of Signal Multimedia

I live in a pretty cool place in California. I have everything I need, a constantly-changing variety of new things to experience and opportunities to expand my horizons. Until my beach house becomes a reality, this is where I’m going to work on the butt grooves of my writing chair.

When my sweetheart first talked me into visiting this little berg, there were hitching posts in the downtown area. Seriously. For horses. They became central to my argument against settling here, but lucky for me, my sweetie was more persuasive. The hitching posts were removed shortly after we bought our house and I began to appreciate my new surroundings.

In a move dripping with irony, a couple of decades after putting down roots here, I served on a civic committee that worked to put hitching posts back into the downtown area, this time to attract tourists. Not that we tie them up there, but to make people remember when we had them for horses.

Our area attracts a lot of different people, activities and special events. We host a generous visitation of singing cowboys and cowgirls every spring, our aquatic center accommodates Olympic-style competitions, there is an annual PowWow that teaches us about Native Americans and our Fourth of July parade is passionately patriotic. We have a performing arts center that attracts some amazing entertainers and I can guarantee that you’ve seen our city in commercials, TV shows and movies.

My lovely daughter, Casey, writing a tribute to our dear friend Shirley Joyce. This was when Lance was still Live Strong...
My lovely daughter, Casey, writing a tribute to our dear friend Shirley Joyce. This was when Lance was still Live Strong…

One of the events we hold here is the Amgen Tour of California. It’s a world-class cycling event that attracts a following of visitors eager to watch the colorful blur go by and drink in some of the excitement that accompanies the race. I’m the kind of cycling fan you could classify as “curious” – I’ve seen the race several times and covered it as a reporter a few times as well. It’s not my cup of tea, but variety is the spice of life and I appreciate that my city officials invite the cyclists to zip through town for those who do enjoy the sport.

In other words, it’s not all about me.

Cycling is a sport with incredible health benefits. Their cardio is off the charts, spandex sales are expanding and it’s a great way to get outdoors and enjoy the scenery. Coming out of their cubicles or homes to watch the riders might be the only time some people get out for some fresh air. And it is awe-inspiring to see how these riders are disciplined and dedicated to their sport. Today, they rode in the rain, a special event in and of itself in this parched state of California.

Why would anyone complain about this world-class, put-us-on-the-map, exercise-inspiring event coming to town?

Sadly, social media – and in the past, letters to the editors of various media outlets – have been flooded with people who were slightly inconvenienced by traffic because roads were temporarily blocked to accommodate the race. You would think we were forcing them to sit naked in a puddle of toxic waste the way some of them bitched and moaned. Some claimed to have been delayed HOURS (I call bullshit on that one), their children scarred for life because they failed to plan an alternate route. Some people were mystified as to the reason for the snarled traffic – despite the city’s extensive efforts to publicize the closures (seriously, I’ve seen it everywhere).

In other words, some people truly believe it is all about them.

I am convinced blinders have been handed out at every Starbucks (the only place or event that is universally known) that keeps people from being aware of their surroundings. The phrase “I never knew” seems to be the mantra. Ignorance seems to be epidemic, but most of the victims are Teflon. I know we’re a busy community, but seriously?

Think of how boring life would be if our routines were never disrupted, the ennui of daily life a never-changing horizon. Do people really want that? And I suspect that some – if not most – of the complainers have been part of a traffic problem themselves at a different time. (School drop-off, or Target parking lot during the holidays, anyone?) Some people just love to be miserable or as my mom used to say “you’d complain if someone hung you with a new rope.”

Don’t worry, it didn’t make sense then either, but it does offer perspective.

All these complainers seem to forget that they enjoy the benefits of what our municipal agencies provide. Sadly, a sense of entitlement oozes out of doorways and comprises the exhaust of their vehicles that fight over parking spaces at the mall, clouding their ability to see that what pays for our more than adequate public safety, professional city staff, abundance of parks and well-maintained roads might just be those “events” that are such an inconvenience.

Did anyone notice that those cyclists attracted hundreds of spectators? Are they all locals? No. Many of them – including some of the competitors who are sleeping here overnight – are visitors who are spending money on hotels, restaurants, souvenirs and other ways of investing in OUR local economy. We benefit from that, every complainer and fan alike.

That investment comes back to our city in its ability to finance a better quality of life that everyone takes for granted and –perhaps to a greater measure – enriches the cultural atmosphere that we all enjoy. Anyone like sports? Performing arts? History? Youth activities? Supporting worthy charities? (Heads up, people, the second largest Relay for Life in the state will take place at Central Park this weekend. It might affect traffic, but I’ll take the delay if it offers hope and help in the fight against cancer). It’s the circle of life (Amgen pun intended) on a fiscal plain.

P1030647
The two people on the left have attended every Amgen Tour; Parks Commissioner Duane Harte who is a real man of the people and cares about every event the city sponsors and Cathy Martin, who has actually traveled to FRANCE and invested in their economy to ride along with and watch the Tour de France. They’re hanging out with some itinerant reporter and alleged VIP

 

And for those of you who notice that I have not named my beloved city, it was on purpose. These blinders are typical in many communities. I’m encouraging people all over the country to get out and appreciate the beauty around us every day. Even if we’re sitting in stopped traffic, we can notice birds or flowers, or people on the street, new businesses opening or restaurants we’d like to try. It’s much healthier to set an example of gratitude than entitlement.

 

Radio in the USA: High Noon A Good Time To Wave

Country music flagDriving to lunch today with the hubby, we heard an a cappella group singing the National Anthem on the radio. I glanced at the clock on the front of the real estate office we were passing and noticed it was noon – exactly when the country radio stations in our market play “The Star Spangled Banner” every single day.

When I worked at a radio station a few years ago – not a country station – I can honestly say that, unless we were jumping on a patriotic bandwagon on the Fourth of July or commemoration of some national disaster, I never heard the National Anthem played on our airwaves.

Never heard it on oldies stations or rock ‘n roll stations either. I don’t listen to talk radio, so I can’t speak for them, but the country stations I bounce between in my car always show their red, white and blue roots at midday.

I wonder what would happen if the noontime slot of every radio station were to become the Star Spangled Banner slot. It used to be how TV stations signed off at the end of programming (remember when TV actually went off the air?) and it starts every sports game and many community events. What if we made it a song we heard every day – and not because we had to, but because we wanted to?

We might find ourselves unconsciously humming “and the rocket’s red glare” while we pour our coffee or as we drum our fingers on the steering wheel waiting at a light.

We might even remember why it was written; what it stands for and the sacrifices in the light of those bombs bursting midair.

Brad Paisley - Photo by Jon Currier for CountryMusicRocks.net
Brad Paisley – Photo by Jon Currier for CountryMusicRocks.net

Or we might simply find it to be a unifying, feel-good song that reminds us we get to play any song we want, anytime we want, anywhere we want because we live in a free country.

I’m not trying to get too sappy patriotic here, although anyone who knows me knows I puddle up at many flag-waving events. I am the proud daughter of a Navy veteran who fought in World War II and the proud mother of an Army veteran who fought in Iraq.

Just one song where everyone knows the words, played to remind us that we are pretty darn lucky to live in the land of the free. I kind of like that.

Speaking of the land of the free and the people who serve, I have to do some proud mama bragging. Today, my son and two of his friends (also veterans) joined legislators in Washington D.C. to promote improved veteran health benefits. They met with decision makers, made their case for those who serve and spoke up for many others who could not be there in person. They made connections that may improve the situation for our veterans now and in the long run. What they did today may change people’s lives for the better.

I get a lot of emails from petition sites that ask for my signature to support a variety of causes. Other emails and Facebook pleas ask me to come to a meeting or write a letter or speak up to encourage or stop or revise a plan or movement. With only 24 hours a day and no expansion plan in the near future, I have to pick and choose which I support. Those that reflect my beliefs the best get a signature, a donation or some time and talent.

Judging from my philanthropic and volunteer activity, I am against hunger, breed-specific legislation and the oppression of women and for marriage equality, veterans’ rights, historic preservation, support of the arts and the Cowboy Way. I serve on a local scholarship granting committee because we all need to help those who helped our children.

But I also spend a lot of time on social media, watching and sometimes participating in discussions about our quirky community. There are several people – some, but not all of them gadflies – who take the time to research and express their opinions to elected officials in the hope that things will change for the better. Sometimes they are loud, sometimes they are subtle, but to their very core they are all passionate. And I think we’re lucky to have them, even though they sometimes drive us crazy.

It’s complacency that should really set us off.

It’s far too easy to stay in our comfort zones and hope that things will always go our way. We are damn lucky that some people are willing to step up to the podium to keep important issues at the forefront, to rouse the rabble and make sure politicians pay attention. The result may not always be the one we wanted, but they remind us that we are guaranteed a chance to speak up.

Kind of like those rights guaranteed by the people and events Francis Scott Key wrote about so many years ago. They’re well worth a daily reminder.

The actual flag flown over Ft. McHenry in 1814 that inspired Francis Scott Key to write "The Star Spangled Banner." The flag has been preserved and is now one of the most treasured artifacts in the collection of the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History in Washington D.C.
The actual flag flown over Ft. McHenry in 1814 that inspired Francis Scott Key to write “The Star Spangled Banner.” The flag has been preserved and is now one of the most treasured artifacts in the collection of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History in Washington D.C.