Shaped by an Era

(Since the original articles came out and I began writing my response to them, I have read much more about things that Deen said/did in recent times that crossed the line of acceptable behavior. She cannot use the excuse that it was “ok when I did it.” It extended into current times and to actions that are far beyond the use of language we now consider unacceptable. While she is now a less than perfect example for illustrating the point, the point that we need to use caution when judging historical behavior based on today’s standards stands.)

The recent scandal involving Paula Deen and her use of racist language has been challenging for me. The reports that she had used the “N” word came as a major “duh!” for me. She is a generation ahead of me from the south - of course she used the “N” word in her lifetime. It was a regular part of southern culture through the eighties (at least). It did not stop with the Civil Rights Act in the sixties: racist language did not cease because the laws changed. Unfortunately, it was a normal part of southern culture.

That it was a normal part of southern culture does not make racism ok; it simply recognizes that it was a real, regular part of life in that region at that time – and it was acceptable to the bulk of people living in that region at that time. We look back upon it with disdain, but history records its prevalence in that region at that time.

I do not excuse anything Deen said or did, but as a proponent of social justice, I believe we must be cautious about casting judgment, not just when someone is accused of racism, but of violating any contemporary social standard. I am a product of my generation and can guarantee that something I have said or done will be considered offensive by future generations. While I believe, somewhat, in psychic phenomenon, I do not profess to possess the ability to predict how society will change by the end of my lifetime or how things considered acceptable in my earlier life will be the object of scorn by the end of it. I do not expect past generations to possess any greater power. As a result, I feel an obligation to give due consideration to the generations that preceded me. Just as I do not want to be judged by the standards of future generations for living according to acceptable standards in my time, I must be cautious about judging previous generations for living according to the standard of their time by the standards of today.

The dynamic nature of society comes from our ever increasing understanding based on new knowledge. I have a hard time condemning any past group of people for operating based on their knowledge at the time. I have a problem, though, if we do not learn from their mistakes based on the knowledge we have now. Failure to recognize how changes have taken place over time stem directly from a lack of historical perspective (just ask a social studies teacher!). We live so much in the now, it is easy to jump on the bandwagon of outrage anytime we become aware of something that does not match contemporary sensibilities. We rarely contextualize the situation and nuance is often lost without the experience of proximity to the event.

In the age of Twitter, CNN, TMZ, and other round-the-clock media, would even Jesus have appeared perfect? By contemporary standards his encounter with the Syrophoenician woman (Matthew 15:21-28 & Mark 7:24-30), for example, would have required a good PR specialist. Even though he did what she requested, the racist and misogynistic language he used in the passage would have been the headline despite it being used as an opportunity to educate. The whole story is never as memorable as the sound-bite. Even when the complete story, miracle and all, has been told, the sound-bite has stuck.

The current political climate has all sides responding in increasingly hostile ways to situations that historically would have merited little to no notice. The raw emotion created by the rapid change within society has put even people who should know better on edge and changed the norms under which most of our leadership learned to function. The rules and core beliefs of generations are being rejected. We know those rules and core beliefs were based on incorrect information, but that does not make the change any easier for the people involved. If anything, it makes it even harder for them to accept because the “facts” that shaped their world were not really facts. What then can they believe? When their entire mindset has to be altered, it is simply easier to reject the change outright.

We are all products of our generation. As much as we would like to believe we have worked it out and operate under enlightened rules, history tends to judge differently. As easy as it is to judge others for their shortcomings, let it be said about us that we extended some of the grace we hope to be shown when the foolishness of our ways is exposed.

Summer Gardening

Summer has arrived in full force in central Texas. Yesterday when I got in my car after work, the temperature outside showed as 111O. In all honesty, it was only 97O, but sitting outside, in the sun, with no shade other than that of the lamp-posts, the car surface was probably 111O or higher.

That same heat taking a toll on my car’s thermometer is taking a toll on all my garden plants - especially those in pots. I watered most of the plants three days ago, but when I came home today, most of them appeared as if they had been in a years-long drought.

I planted them all from seed this spring, there is no way they know we have been in a years-long drought.

I even bought Miracle Grow Moisture Control potting soil.

Texas Heat 1 - Miracle Grow 0.

Some of my plants are growing like crazy and are leaving me wondering just how much eggplant and bell pepper I can eat in a year. Allrecipes.com lists some 240 recipes for eggplant, so I should be good.

Last year I made more gazpacho than I could eat. This year I cannot get my cucumbers to put on a single cuc. They tease me with thousands of blonde deceptions, but no fruit appears.

At least the squash have started to produce.

Maybe I should have planted okra this year. It does well in the heat.

Each summer having a garden is taking a chance that the weather will not be at its worst. The last few years; however, the weather has been at its worst. Despite the weather with its heat and drought that dash the best laid plans and the critters that nibble at my plants (and sometimes my feet), gardening is the second most hopeful thing that I do (my job as an educator is the most hopeful thing that I do). Every seed I drop into the ground contains the promise of bounty. A little help from mother nature and my faithful stewardship and that seed will produce foods far better than can be purchased at the store.

I do not know if the food is “really” better or if the sweat and effort make it seem that much better. Whatever the reason, I know I enjoy everything that comes from my garden.

And thanks to my new food vacuum-sealer, I do not have to enjoy it all right now.

Truck Guy in a Car World

Recently I took a new job that requires a fifty mile commute each direction. I have considered making the move, but financial considerations make it better for me to remain in my house and make a move in a few years; my current property is gaining value too rapidly to sell right now.

I have almost always had a truck of some kind. Most recently a full-sized Honda Ridgeline. I am a truck guy.

That truck lasted two days on the commute. Eighteen miles per gallon just would not cut it. I am a truck guy who hates filling up every two days.

So, I switched to a car. I have averaged 38.3 MPG in the trips since then. For the road trips I like to take, that put a huge smile on my face - especially since I was assured by the salesman that the real MPG was about 34. I pointed out to him that I know how to drive a standard and that I usually get above the rated mileage on vehicles. So far I am right! That is exciting too. I am a truck guy in a car world!

In all honesty, I used the truck as a truck one or two times a year.

Unless you count road-rage.

Having a full-sized truck while dealing with people in sub-compacts doing truly stupid things it traffic did give some intimidation factor.

Today, an idiot in a truck sped past a long line of us going the speed limit, slammed on her brakes, and swerved across two lanes of traffic going 70 mph. I sooooo wanted to be in a truck with a grill-guard and push her into the ditch. Now I am the one in the compact car: there will be no pushing trucks into the ditch.

The reality is that I do not need a truck, and living my ethic of social justice and conservation demands that I drive a suitable vehicle. The car is the right vehicle for me at this time and I am excited about being ok with it. The country boy in me will always want a truck (as will the Napoleon complex), but the intellectual liberal will like myself better for driving the vehicle that actually meets my needs. I am a truck guy in a car world and I am ok with that.

Chicharrones Chicken and More

         Yesterday I decided to clean out the pantry and freezer. My roommate and I are both fans of the television show “Chopped” so I declared that I would prepare a meal with whatever ingredients I pulled from the freezer or pantry that were at or near (or maybe past) the expiration date.

         The fact that it was my own pantry gave me a perhaps unfair advantage, but there was always the chance of that one-off ingredient I had to figure out how to work in. In this case I think it was a bag of mixed-frozen fruit (strawberry, mango, papaya). The other ingredients I had were left-over crumbly bits of tortilla chips (plain and super spicy), chicharrones, coconut milk, frozen hash-brown potatoes, and yogurt. All in all, though, the ingredients were easy to work with.

         I decided the chips and chicharrones would make a perfect coating for fried chicken, so I put them in the food processor and ground them down to crumbs (even more than they already were. I pulled out some boneless, skinless chicken breast, coated it with an egg wash then dredged it in the crumbs and let it rest for about ten minutes while I let the oil (olive and grapeseed) in the frying pan heat and the oven come up to temperature. I then seared the chicken on each side and placed in a baking dish in which I would finish the cooking.

         After doing a quick fry on each side of the breast, I sprinkled them with more of the crust mixture which I had set aside and mixed with fresh, finely-grated Romano and mozzarella cheese. I put them in the oven to cook for about 30 minutes at 350°.

         How can anything coated in pork fat not be good?

         I have a bad habit of overcooking chicken breast, but this batch turned out perfectly done and nicely moist on the inside.

         I used the potatoes, more of the cheeses, and an Alfredo sauce to make creamy twice-baked potatoes. I sprinkled some of the same reserved chips/chicharrones crumbles over the top to connect the chicken and potatoes.

         I did not take pictures of the fruit, yogurt, and coconut milk concoction because I had no idea it would actually turn out. I decided to make a pudding with pureed veggies and yogurt to which I added the two cans of coconut milk and a cup of sugar. I cooked it until it was hot through, added a cornstarch mixture, let that cook briefly, and then refrigerated it overnight. It actually turned out perfectly! I am going to have to work on the recipe some more, but this is one I can use to surprise friends.

         Given the fun I had in the kitchen (aside from slicing my finger open on the arm of the dishwasher), I will have to clean out my cupboard more often to see what I can come up with.

Fresh is Best

Over the years watching cooking shows, the mantra, “fresh is best,” rang through every show. In all that time I have had a garden and have raised some of my own herbs and have used them from to improve the freshness of my cooking

The older I get, the more important good food is.

This spring, I focused on some of my favorite herbs along with the vegetables I most enjoy. They are doing better than I could have hoped.

Cilantro grows quickly.

I did not expect to use it as the dominant flavor of hummus, but today as I readied to process the garbanzo beans, the most available spice I had on hand was cilantro, Working it with garlic and pepper into the garbanzo beans resulted in one of the best hummus mixes I have created in the last nine years (since I started eating hummus). The flavors exploded in my mouth.

But what could I use to eat it with? Pita bread has been my favorite vehicle for eating hummus, but I did not have any on hand. I made a bread that included rice, wheat (white and whole), and oats. Combined with honey and beer, the flavors dominated the bread.

I decided to make a egg/oil spread with the same ingredients - garlic, salt, cilantro and pepper. I imagined a egg/oil spread to increase the browning of the bread. I ended up with a strongly flavored mayonnaise that spread beautifully across the rolled-out dough for the bread. Dashes of salt, garlic powder, and cayenne pepper were sprinkled across the mayo just moments before the bread was placed on the heated pizza stone. Within ten minutes, I the bread was cooked and ready to eat.

The sweet flavor of the bread matched with the spice in the baked-on topping led to surprising experiences in the mouth. Flavor came from every direction. There is the flavor on the tongue - and there is the flavor waiting in ambush.

In addition to the cilantro, my basil, rosemary, and oregano plants needed trimming so they would become more bushy and productive.  Because I was not doing any cooking with them, I put them directly in my food dryer for preservation. This morning I woke to a house fragrant with the smell of dried herbs.

Now to figure out what to do with the mint.

509 - 9

Today, I start the ninth year of putting my ideas out into the world. I created this blog after experiencing a time of no creativity. I did a whopping two posts before forgetting about it for a year. In that time I changed jobs, turned forty, and discovered that I couldn’t care less about people being offended by my sarcasm. I started having fun writing.

Now, nine years and 508 posts later I’m still going at it and have added two, more focused, blogs to this one. I have one that is my weekly reflection the Bible lectionary (my sermon in 500 words) for the week and another that is reflection on professional topics.

The most viewed post discussed my lament at seeing way too much girl crack in a short period of time. It taught me much about how to market a post for attracting views, but there have been many times I have considered deleting the post.

To date, my favorite posts involved my contacts with Jack Links meat snacks. I actually emailed them about the wording on their package, and they replied. The phrase, “The meat contained herein is for personal use only,” with a clip-art of a surprised looking bull, became an iron-on stencil for the shirt I wore at my fortieth birthday party.

As a mental health professional working in the field of education it would be easy to be be brought to despair with the challenges faced by so many of our students. I prefer to find the joy in even small successes. Getting one of my students to double-over in laughter makes everything I do in the day worthwhile. Because I know my students, I get to do this more often one might imagine.

Laughter is the best medicine. The more I delve into the ridiculous aspects of life (mostly packaging), I believe that is true. In the last eight years, I have laughed hard enough that I had to stop typing. I hope some of the readers have too. I look forward to more years of laughter (and eating well if you follow my recipes).

Au Gratin Potatoes My Way

My dad is a meat and potatoes kind of man. Every meal we had offered some kind of meat. Almost every meal had potatoes in some form. Even though I grew up in one of the largest rice-producing counties in the nation, I did not begin to eat rice regularly or appreciate it until I was nearly forty and had moved away from that county. Even though I grew up with them at nearly every meal, I rarely eat potatoes. As a result, most of the “fresh” potatoes I purchase at the grocery store go bad before I get around to using them.

Such was the result with some baking potatoes I purchased a while back (6-8 weeks). I do like baked potatoes because by the time I am done adding butter, sour cream, cheese, bacon, chives, garlic, etc. etc. etc. the potato is almost indistinguishable.  Even though I do like baked potatoes, these had begun to shrivel and future potato plants began to shoot from the various eyes. I almost threw them away, but reference to au gratin potatoes in a recent cooking show prompted me to get creative with old potatoes.

Most of my memories of potatoes au gratin were ones that came from a box.

That’s what I get for growing up in the 1970’s.

I decided to pretend I was on a slow-motion version of Chopped and make a good homemade version of au gratin potatoes from scratch with the ingredients I had on hand.

First, I peeled the potatoes removing the shriveling skin and the growths emanating from each eye.

Then I soaked them in a salt water bring. (In this case for a day because I was busy and did not get back to them). The salt water helped to get flavor into the potato and they firmed back up to about 90% of fresh potato rigidity.

I rinsed each potato. Then using my mandolin adjusted to the thinnest slice possible (in the future I will use the middle setting) I sliced the potatoes and let them soak in a fresh, warm, salt-water bath for a few hours.

During the times the potatoes were soaking and regaining their turgor, I searched online for various au gratin recipes. Combining the various recipes I settled on a sauce that agreed with my taste (and what I keep on hand):

1.5 C half-and-half

Garlic powder

Onion powder

Salt

Pepper

Cayenne pepper powder

Diced garlic

1 TBS flour

Cheese (in this case Monterey Jack)

As I put the dish together, I began by coating the pan with olive oil. I used a 2-quart casserole (but in the future will go with a larger, shallower pan – took too long to cook through and I was hungry). I layered in a couple layers of potatoes (they were potato-chip thin), then spooned a coating of the sauce. I repeated three times then sprinkled a layer of cheese.

I continued the process until I used all the potatoes. I poured all remaining sauce on top (it soaked through and filled the empty spaces).

Oh – no cheese on top yet.

I covered the pan (a lid or aluminum foil – whichever work best) and cooked it for four hours at 250 degrees (the reason I am using a shallower pan next time). Once the potatoes were done through, I uncovered the pan to get a layer of crisp on the top. As soon as the potatoes were well-browned, I added a healthy layer of grated cheese. Put the pan back in until the cheese is melted and starting to brown.

Done.

Making au gratin potatoes takes a bit more time and effort than I put into most dishes that come from my kitchen, but for these results, it is all worth it.

Seasons of Life

I am tired of people dying.

Fourteen deaths of people I knew well in the space of a year has taken its toll on me.

I do not want to be around anyone right now.

I am tired of living in many different stages of grief simultaneously.

Of course I am certain that most of those I know who died were much less ready to die than I was to grieve their deaths.

The flood of frustration at how much grief has driven my emotions the last year spilled over upon receiving word recently that a wonderful former co-worker had reached the final hours of her life after a lengthy battle with cancer. She, like another co-worker who died this year, was much too young.

I have never been one to display grief. I am comfortable enough with life and death that I found being with people as they took their last breath a beautiful and holy experience.  My year working for a hospice was a great experience as I learned that dying was not an unbearable experience; rather it was a very full time spent completing life. After being in the presence of people in their last hours, I do not fear death and I have long demonstrated a quick recovery from grief at any loss.

It took me a year to realize it, but since the death of a childhood friend’s father last year, I have been in grief though I fought hard to deny it. I have shaped myself as the caregiver not the caregiven. I finally mentioned it to a co-worker who also has a mental health background and her response was, “ You need a week away from people.” I laughed because that is exactly what I planned to do over spring break until I hurt my back. I did spend three days on my back recovering from the injury, but it was not the kind of isolation I needed to have to process the grief issues I was contemplating.

Since hiding from people for  a week is not really an option, I am seeking some other ways to deal with it.  The nature of my job, especially this time of year, requires more than a 40-hour week - and as it is nearing the end of the school year, the workload increases even more.

I have to accept the realization that I have entered a season of my life in which I will face the death of many of the “adults” I knew growing up. I cannot change that, but I can change to a more healthy response to the grief that is coming. Each of the fourteen people who died in the last year, influenced me and many others around me. There is not one thing I can do to work through the grief, but there is something I can do in respect of their influence. I just have to spend the time deciding what to do for each.

Generations

My last living grandparent died March 25, 2013 at the age of 97. Some friends and co-workers were extending their condolences until the heard the “97” part. I have to give them some freedom to feel that way. There are very few people I know who are 46 (like me) and who still have living grandparents. Most of my friends of a like age have lost one of both parents.Indeed, I recognized how blessed I have been to have my grandparents as long as I had them all. Rather than being bogged down in grief, I celebrate the family connections I have.

     After learning the news of my grandmother’s death, I paused to say a little prayer and then went on with my day.

In all honesty, I was never as close to this set of grandparents growing up as I was to my other set of grandparents who lived down the road from me. I saw them every couple of summers when we went to Minnesota on vacation. I only ever saw my paternal grandparents a handful of times. Still, as I went through the day, grandma’s death weighed on my mind much more than I expected it would.

Today as I was cleaning some things off the desk in my home office, I came across the last letter I received from her. One of my fondest memories of her was the certainty that I would receive a birthday and Christmas card from her with a letter updating me on everything that was going on in her life.  For a person over 90, she stayed busy. The last time I saw her, she and I spent time cleaning out an aunt’s flower bed as the spring plants were getting ready to sprout.

Because I saw my paternal grandmother so rarely growing up, I am not mourning her in the same way I mourned my maternal grandparents. My grief this time is focused on the passing of a generation. She was the last grandparent I (and many of my cousins) had. The elder status has moved down to my parents’ generation, and will, in time move down to mine. It is the progression of ages.

One reason I am thinking so much about the idea of generations in the family is that there are cousins who live (or at least were raised) in Minnesota whom I have never met. They were born after I made my last visit in 1985. Visits with my relatives since then have either occurred when they passed through Austin or when I made my way up to Wichita. How will the hierarchy work in the coming generations? That I do not know many of my cousins is not unusual among my friends. Like me, because the family lives so far apart, there are relatives they have never seen.

I always wonder when I am traveling whether or not I am randomly passing by a unknown cousin. I have run into old college acquaintances in airports; I suppose a cousin would be just as likely. The cousins I have never seen are much harder to recognize.

With luck, I will be attending a conference in Minneapolis in the next few months and will have the chance to connect with some of those cousins I have not seen since the mid-80’s. (or ever). Perhaps through those contacts, the next generations can remain connected - at least somewhat as what has always been a very large family continues to grow.

Connected

Every once in awhile I get to have one of those weeks that defies all expectations. The past week has been one of those.

I had high expectations for the conference I attended in Chicago. Several co-workers had attended the same conference some times before and they all had raves for the information they gained from the sessions and the resources. I went looking forward to some sessions that were very topical to the work I did on a daily basis. Mostly I went hoping to meet in person some of the professionals I had chosen to follow as a part of my PLN (Personal/Professional Learning Network). Based on their output through various social media sites, I learned to value the information they shared and have followed their online sharing of personal learning and the learning of others through links.

I have gained more from them in the last few months than I have in the last few years of professional development sessions. They have the answers I need when I need them.

They are uncannily perceptive sometimes - even though they do not know me.

My hopes were not dashed. I had the opportunity to spend far more time with my internet idols than I expected. At best I had hoped to recognize them in passing and introduce myself. Instead, I spent several hours with them in conversation and they introduced me to even more. In addition to the volumes of information I had learned on their Internet output, I learned even more with them and even gained some ideas about future work to do here in Austin.

While I expected valuable information in conversation with them, a random conversation at the hotel bar provided the biggest surprise. It started with the bartender asking me a bit of television trivia (because I looked like a smart guy) and ended in conversation with the person who originally posed the question. The conversation did not stay trivial for long and by the end of the evening he promised to send me the introductory parts of the manuscript for a book he was writing. The story he has to tell is one every educator should read when considering the smart kid who just does not do his work. There is always more to the story than we know and he provides a face for the rest of the story.

He actually sent the manuscript to me and we have maintained an email dialogue since then.

People who know me well know how difficult it is for me to talk to new people.  As a professional, the need to connect exceeds my natural shyness - that is one reason I like the opportunities that exist in social media (Twitter, Facebook, Google+). They suffice to initially make contact with others until the point that they are no longer strangers. After reaching that point, the face-to-face is a comfortable next-step rather than a mandated social norm. Being of the age and generation that I am, I do still long for the personal connection despite my initial shyness. As valuable as my virtual friends are, there is something special about a face-to-face conversation that surpasses the screen-to-screen text chats.

The biggest challenge in the last week has been keeping up with and doing something with the new knowledge and connections. While I get it all processed I think sleep will just have to wait.