Tag Archives: Adversity and Resilience

“The Fool’s Prayer”

Carol A. Hand

This is the second installment of sharing older posts while I focus on surviving the beginning of a new semester. It deals with the beginning journey of discovering a philosophy of education.

Sometimes important life lessons are painful. We may learn what we don’t want to be when we grow up. As someone who never entertained being a college professor, I learned a most valuable lesson as a young child about the difference between being an educator who encourages excellence and critical thinking rather than one who serves as an agent of normalization and social control.

I have had the honor of working with students who saw the world through many different lenses. Some were smarter, some kinder, some were better thinkers and writers, and many traveled further or overcame challenges I couldn’t even imagine. It was and still is my intention to encourage others to discover and express their gifts.

I might not have realized the importance of this approach without experiencing a third-grade teacher who did quite the opposite. She led me down a path of critical reflection at an early age and I have learned to be deeply grateful for that lesson.

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Third grade. Our assignment was to find a poem we could memorize and recite to the class. I grew up in a working class home with few books: my mother’s text about practical nursing and her high school English text, Adventures in American Literature, and my father’s set of Popular Mechanics, the poor man’s version of an encyclopedia. Given the limited choices, I read through my mother’s English literature text and selected the poem that had the most meaning to me, “The Fool’s Prayer.”

The Fool’s Prayer
Edward Rowland Sill (1841-1887)

The royal feast was done; the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: “Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!”

The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.

He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the Monarch’s silken stool;
His pleading voice arose: “O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!

“No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin: but Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!

“‘Tis not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
‘Tis by our follies that so long
We hold the earth from heaven away.

“These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
The hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.

“The ill-timed truth we might have kept –
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung?
The word we had not sense to say –
Who knows how grandly it had rung?

“Our faults no tenderness should ask,
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders – oh in shame
Before the eyes of heaven we fall.

“Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but ‘Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!”

The room was hushed: In silence rose the
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
“Be merciful to me, a fool!”

(H.S. Schweikert, R. B. Inglis, & J. Gehlmann, Eds., 1936, pp. 670-671)

Presentation day was one of nervous anticipation for me. I was excited to share what I thought was an important message with my classmates. But my anxiety grew as I sat through the recitation of nursery rhymes and “Twinkle-twinkle little star.” “Oops,” I thought, “Maybe I made a mistake, but it’s too late now.” When my turn came, I walked to the front of the class and began. I don’t remember how my peers reacted as I recited the poem, probably with exaggerated drama, nor could I see my teacher’s expression. She was seated at her desk behind me. All I remember is from that day forward, my teacher treated me as if I were a leper. The first time I talked to a classmate seated next to me after my performance, the teacher singled me out in front of the class.

You may not need to listen to what I’m talking about, but the rest of the class does. From now on when we are discussing reading, your job is to stand by the side blackboard and draw.”

Perhaps it was meant as a punishment, but it didn’t seem to be a marker of shame to my peers so I was okay with it. And I really didn’t mind being freed from the prison of a desk as the teacher droned on and on, talking at us. I was free to daydream and create. I was free to ponder the message of the jester. Perhaps my role in life was to let kings and teachers know that they were as human as those over whom they exercised sovereignty. Yet unlike the jester, I couldn’t wear a painted grin. I was born with a face that couldn’t mask feelings, and I didn’t have the playfulness and self-assurance necessary to be a clown. So instead, I became quiet. I learned not to appear too smart – to avoid drawing any attention to myself. But it was too late. I had already learned that those of us who are not kings cannot remain silent forever. If we don’t find effective ways to rein-in kings, things will never change.

jester

Jester Logo by Lesley-Lycanthropy, Jester Logo by Lesley-Lycanthropy on deviantART
lesley-lycanthropy.deviantart.com

***

Life has granted me many more chances to test out ways to share information that feels important. Perhaps others I have encountered on my journey found the ideas timely and helpful. Like the jester, though, my responsibility is merely to share what flows through me in the moment through words, silences, and actions. I may never know whether anyone is listening. That is as it should be for the messages belong to anyone who is paying attention and understands the meaning in their own way…

Signs of These Times

Carol A. Hand

Greeting the morning
as another fighter jet roars overhead
in the periodic practice flights
to stay ever-ready for battle

*

Watching moving afternoon shadows
glide over the snow-laden garden
as my neighbor’s flag moves
rhythmically with the wind
blocking the southwestern light
from the long-awaited winter sun
emphasizing the precariousness
of these troubled times
when killing for power, oil, flag, and country
is easier than conflict resolution and diplomacy

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Source – clipartix.com

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Let the voices of children touch our hearts
and their dreams for their future point to way

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(Heal the World (by Michael Jackson) – kids artist)

Reflections about Resilience – November 3, 2019

Carol A. Hand

Blindsided yet again by evil

that has come with an intensity

I’m not sure my aching heart can bear it

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But I have walked this path before

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“Walk tall anyway,” I told myself then,

“Truth will prevail in time

if you show compassion, patience,

and integrity

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Keep in mind the advice you give

Seek solutions that promote healing

rather than those that punish

Remember what you focus on

and the lens you look through

affect what you see and do

*

***

Autumn Reflections – October 9, 2019

Carol A. Hand

When I arrived here

in the world of humans

all the rules had been written

and all the roles had been assigned

save one – the role of outsider

reserved for others like me

who couldn’t conform

to cultures and religions

claiming to be the only

True Way

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The curse of being born between cultures is to always enter each new setting to discover the enduring discomfort of being an outsider. Finally, I have learned to be grateful for the freedom that role confers, even though my spirit longs to connect with people as easily as it does with dragonflies, birds, trees, and bumblebees bending flowers as they feed.

I feel the imminent danger we all face, yet I remember a saying from Lao Tzu that seems to be true to me – “the way to do is to be.”

I have no answers for others, but decades ago I was blessed by the example of Sister Lorita, my college adviser and botany professor. She humbly endured being mocked by many of her privileged students. One day, she shared her secret with me.

“It doesn’t matter what people think of me if they learn to see the wonder of life in a blade of grass.”

Every morning and most evenings, I sit outside on my little porch looking toward the western sky. I observe and listen to the nature around me – both “natural” and human. Some of what I see and hear touches my heart with wonder, while other sights and sounds weigh heavy on my spirit. Both inspire me to honestly reflect on the things I do that add to the threats for all life. And I try to do better. But it’s hard to do it alone.

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Sunset – October 9, 2017

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Still, I try to do better. I plant and tend gardens, spend time with my daughter and grandchildren when their busy schedules allow, and teach part time. I try to raise the awareness of my grandchildren and the students I work with in gentle ways, creating a space for them to learn to be present and inquisitive, to question what they have learned in the past, and to think critically about what they encounter in the present.

It’s impossible for me to know if anything I say or do will make a positive difference in their lives, but teaching by example has made a difference in mine. It’s helped me learn to live with fewer and fewer immutable answers and many more questions which I may never be able to answer with certainty.

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Reflections about Puzzles

Carol A. Hand

There are so many things I would like to write about but the truth is, I don’t have time. I am too busy doing something I have always loved to do. Solving puzzles.

It’s a trait that helped me survive jobs in overly politicized competitive bureaucracies. When I worked for state government, it involved mediating conflict in creative, unexpected ways. Like designing a solution for an outdated funding formula for county programs that was overly dependent on ever-shifting demographic data. When working for an inter-tribal agency, it meant figuring out how to exert tribal sovereignty over exploitive university researchers or state administrators who used divide and conquer tactics to create competition among tribes in order to limit funding for necessary services. In academia, it meant learning how to teach the most unpopular courses in ways that engaged students and provided information that would be helpful in a future I might not see.

Figuring out how to keep experimenting with more effective ways to teach research this semester is keeping me busy. Some days, it takes a lot of discipline to sit at my computer all day and into wee morning hours redesigning assignments or grading student papers with comments intended to both encourage and educate.

Interestingly though, doing other types of puzzles helps me transition between different topics, research methodologies, and styles of communicating. I am grateful for free online card games, or the digital jigsaw puzzles I can create with my own photos. (I doubt that the one posted below would be interesting, though.)

Cryptogram Wisdom

Solving cryptograms before I fall asleep helps me let go of any other puzzles that might otherwise keep me awake.

There are puzzles I don’t like to solve, though, that have to do with technology. Sadly, I have to rely on technicians or time. This week, I was locked out of WordPress. Fortunately that challenge was addressed by someone last evening. I don’t need to know who or how or why. I am just grateful that others find it interesting to solve technological puzzles.

All of this is meant as an explanation for my very infrequent visits to blogs these days, including mine. I want to let you know that I value what you all share and will return again as soon as I can. In the meantime, I send my best wishes to all.

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In case anyone is interested, I have typed the cryptogram quotes below:

“One must learn by doing the thing, for though you think you know it, you have no certainty until you try.” (Aristotle)

“The surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that it has never tried to contact us.” (Bill Paterson)

“I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.” (Albert Einstein)

“Love is a medicine for the sickness of the world; a prescription often given, rarely taken.” (Karl Menninger)

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“Healing the Spirit …”

Carol A. Hand

As I took a moment to reflect
about the online course content
I need to develop and load today

(always difficult for someone
who’s technologically-challenged)

a thought flowed through my mind
as I looked at the cloudy sky
asking the clouds to release needed rain

Places of life and light need to survive
in times like these for the sake of all

A memory followed about the closing ceremony
for a conference I attended decades ago
“Healing the Spirit Worldwide”

***

from Lighting a Candle for the Four Directions (12/13/2014)

… I was working as the deputy director of health and human services for an inter-tribal agency. It was not an easy job for many reasons, primarily because of the enduring legacy of colonialism that continued to impose dominant cultural paradigms on tribal communities and use divide and conquer tactics to foment conflicts between “traditional” and “progressive” tribal factions. Resolving conflict was a central part of my job, and it often put me in the middle of powerful competing interests. At a particularly challenging time, I needed to travel with one of my staff to a conference on worldwide healing for Indigenous people held in Edmonton, Alberta. The conference helped me realize I was not alone. Rediscovering the candle on my bookcase reminded me of the conference’s closing ceremony.

*

*

More than one thousand of us, representing many cultures and nations, stood in a circle within a large auditorium holding hands. Then, one elder walked to the center. She explained that the closing ceremony was intended to remind us that we were not alone. Because we were in a government building, we couldn’t use candles (fire ordinances prevented it), so flashlights would have to do. And then, the lights in the room went out as her flashlight went on in the center of the circle. She signaled to the four directions, highlighting one person from each of the four directions to walk to the center – first the east, then the south, the west, and the north. The representatives were all given a flashlight. As they touched their darkened lights to the elders “candle,” their flashlights were turned on. They were instructed to carry their light to the four directions and light other candles in their part of the circle. The elder explained that it would not be easy to keep the candle fires burning, but if the light went out, people could always return to the center to light them once again…

***

The rain I asked for hasn’t come yet
but perhaps it will if I keep my focus
on weaving life and light into the course
despite the technological challenges
I will most likely encounter …

*

Monday Reflections – August 19, 2019

Carol A. Hand

Taking a moment to greet the morning
despite a never-ending list of tasks

Queenie awakened as always
to South Pacific songs
as the mini-blinds were opened
so he could view the sunny southeast vista

Pinto trotted around the block
in the cooler air seemingly unaware
of the flock of Canadian Geese
breakfasting in the park we passed

A moment more of reflection
watching the moon set

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Moonset – August 19, 2019

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and geese flying overhead in flight formation
listening to the music of crickets chirping
sure signs of the coming fall
presaged by the rising Ricing MoonManoominike-giizis
earlier this week that gave me a chance

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Moonrise – August 15, 2019

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to compare my new camera
with the iphone I often use these days
mainly for convenience

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The rising moon inspired me
to learn more about wild riceManoomin
and begin editing my book manuscript again
before I immerse myself in preparing
the course I will be teaching soon
trying perhaps unsuccessfully to balance
the ever-present tasks that need doing
before the first frosts come

*

A Tale of Twin Trees

Carol A. Hand

One upon a time a family of dwarf pine trees were born
They were watered and fed in a warm sheltered nursery
Among them a brother and sister
It took years for them to grow until they were finally tall enough
to be clipped into fancy shapes that were not their nature
They were sent to a store to be sold – but the summer went by
while they waited and waited to find a home
sadly, no one wanted them
At the end of the season, a bit stunted by the experience,
they were finally put on sale – $14 for a living being
I wonder if they wondered what their fate would be?
As sometimes happens, they would not be far apart
They went home with two neighbors
but that is when their paths diverged
One went to a big home with a chemically-fed lawn
to serve as a symbol of conspicuous material success
He was placed in a fancy planter prominently displayed
But when winter came, he was left outside without warmth or water
When spring arrived, he was discarded with the used Christmas tree
The other little pine went to a modest cottage just next door
to a yard overgrown with trees and flowers and gardens everywhere
She was placed in a newly created garden where she could grow
according to her own nature amid towering pines
but the winters proved harsh – much colder than those of her past
Each spring she struggled to bring forth life on damaged branches

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Little Pine – August 2019
*
Each summer, the man who bought her brother would flood her home
Washing way the soil and protective mulch with a torrent of water
from the birthday waterslide that was a new symbol of conspicuous superiority
And each year, the woman who brought her to her new home
would lovingly repair her soil and gently touch her branches
uttering a silent prayer for the little pine tree’s health and survival

*

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Ah, life.
There are so many differing views
about what is really important

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August Reflections – 2019

Carol A. Hand

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Pinto, Queenie (my parakeet), and I
survived another summer July
this one challenging, hot, and dry
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Trying to encourage Pinto to eat – July 23, 2019

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Garden washouts a yearly event
strategically planned with malicious intent
perhaps police intervention this year will lead to an offender’s lament
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Garden Waterslide Washout: Neighbor’s Annual Birthday Event – July 20, 2019

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Backyard visitors coming down from the wood
does with their fawns grazing in my urban neighborhood
bunnies galore and a stout raccoon roam
while paper wasps build a new home
*

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Bees and butterflies feast on flowers
during pleasant, sunny afternoon hours
*
*
Transitioning to teaching the next onerous process
while bountiful gardens and harvests proceed nonetheless

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Wishing you all bountiful harvests and mild beginnings of seasonal transitions

Just Wondering …

Carol A. Hand

Do you ever find yourself in an alien space
despite doing your best to find a safe place
or feel as though you’ve lost your way
as you contemplate the predicament you’re in today?

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A Baby Porcupine caught in my neighbor’s deep window well July 27.

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 Gratefully, s/he escaped by climbing up the long board I was advised to prop on the wall by Wildwoods Animal Rescue.

I can empathize with her/his situation. I know what it feels like to be caught in an alien time and place…