"Inheritance"

Last year I lost my mother to a terrible, debilitating condition known as Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, or PSP for short. In many ways it resembles Parkinson's or Lou Gehrig's disease as Mom slowly lost use of her limbs and required assistance with everything. Toward the end, she could not even swallow. Instead of water, upon which she would choke, she was given nectar, thickened water that she could swallow more easily. It was very difficult to see her like this, but she received excellent care at St. Joseph's Villa in Baden, PA and my sisters, brother and I are very grateful for the love and care she was shown.

As we sold my parent's home and tried to marshal all the resources we could for her care, my Mom often said how disappointed she was that "there's nothing for you kids" to which we would reply, "yes, Mom, we want to put you in a cheap, inferior nursing home so we get the money..." It was never an expectation on any of our parts that an inheritance was coming. The house was...a house. Home is when you are with family. It isn't dependent on a structure, at least for us. Home really is where the heart is for us.

In 2010, I decided to return for my doctorate. As I have written previously, this was "not my first rodeo" and I was determined to finish. I hoped my mother would live to see it, but I knew that was a very long shot. Her illness was progressing according to the diagnosis, and she passed away in Spring during my last class. I had gone to see her in March and encouraged my brother to come home as soon as he could, it seemed that dire, and he did. Bob, Helen, and Marianne were with my Mom when the priest administered last rites. Bob had called me and I was on my way to PA, but I wouldn't get there until the next day.

Her breathing was labored, and she was having a terrible time speaking. Her words came out in a hoarse croak when she could speak. With Bob, Marianne, and Helen standing there, sadly coming to grips with the inevitable, my Mom managed to croak out "There's no inheritance." Here she is, nearing the end, and her sense of humor still enabled her to break the dark mood as though they'd leave when they realized there was no money coming...

My mother did not pass that night. I got to see her that week, and stayed with her until Wednesday. Sadly, she did die that Friday, my sisters were with her at the end.

But that is not the story.

My sister Helen was executrix of my mother's modest estate, and in the course of going through documents Helen found a life insurance policy that had not been cashed. There WAS an inheritance!

I finished my dissertation the summer after my Mom died. I was sorry that she would not see me finish, sorry that she didn't live to see any of her grandchildren marry, but I was relieved that she was no longer trapped in a body that had failed her, her mind was still (obviously) sharp to the end, but the illness robbed her of everything else. I got the phone call that "Dr. Nairn's dissertation has been accepted" in August.

We had finished the paperwork for the insurance company about the same time I finished my degree. And then I realized, the "inheritance" was a little more than I needed to buy my regalia.

Even if she couldn't be there, I had her with me.

The real inheritance is not the money. The real lasting gift of both my parents was a healthy regard for education, a commitment to having a good work ethic, and perhaps most important respect for others.

I miss my Mom and Dad terribly. Especially at times like this when I want to share with them, this Fall when my daughter gets married, the achievements of all my children as they have grown up to be good people with character. That is the inheritance...

Has it really been almost two months since I last wrote? It is a bit hard for me to believe as I spent most of July writing. My dissertation is done, accepted, and I am now the second "Dr. Nairn" in our family. My brother Bob has a PhD from THE Ohio State University and is a full professor at the University of Oklahoma. As one might expect, we are all proud of him.
My journey took longer. A failed attempt in the 80s and 90s to earn an EdD left me bitter and feeling like a failure I can rationalize away all the reasons why it didn't come together. It doesn't matter. I tried. I failed.
This time things were different, I was different, the program was different, and I am pleased and proud to have my DMgt from the University of Maryland University College. I know that the name sounds like it was put together by the committee on committees, or the group to start-up and implement redundancy...but there is a logic behind it. University Colleges are not uncommon in Europe, or even in Canada where the English model is used. It has come to represent a continuing education or adult education unit of a larger institution. In this case, UMUC

was once the evening college of the University of Maryland. After 1947, when the Truman Commission lit a fire under adult and continuing education, the University College became so large it was spun off as its own university. But, that is not my point...

UMUC was engaged in seeing me succeed. 

It is that simple. UMUC's faculty in Community College Policy and Administration want to see students succeed. My advisor took calls in the evening, on weekends, and talked me through some thorny issues as I pursued my degree. She called me on a beautiful New York Saturday afternoon to tell me that "Dr. Nairn" had been approved by his committee. The entire experience has been affirming. As "the fun guys" would say...we are worthy...

Be careful what you wish for...

I have followed the Supreme Court's activity of the past week with just a little interest. Between work and finishing my dissertation I have found little time to get involved with politics or any other great American sports (but, Go Blackhawks!) so my news has come in drips through my dissertating haze.

But with regard to SCOTUS, many of my friends have posted their pleasure with the defeat of the Defense of Marriage Act by the court. I agree with that. Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a bit left of center and marriage equality is something I fully support. However...the court's decision to overturn the Voting Rights Act means that a lot of progress in racial equality could be set back. As hard as it may be for many of us to accept, the Court has shown admirable consistency in making this decision, and the right scores some major points.

My reading of the Court's decisions is that they have embraced a "state's rights" agenda and said that the Federal government has no right to make laws that affect what are properly state's decisions. The states that wish to create restrictions on voting are given free rein to do so, just as New York, Vermont, Massachusetts, and other states embracing marriage equality can do so as well. It potentially has a chilling effect on minority (but soon to be majority?) voters in states where the ballot box, not the marriage altar, is the battleground.

Give conservatives their due. They were smart to give up on DOMA to win on Voter Rights. The alternative would have been to introduce a national marriage equality act which would have no chance of passing.

We got what we wished for. What price have we paid in the long run?

Reflections on a new beginning and an old ritual...

My nephew got married this weekend. He is the first of the "cousins" to marry. My three children and my two nephews are nearly perfectly spaced, 31, 29, 27, 26, 24, and so this was a big event for all of us.

A marriage is always a big event, and I wish him and his new wife the best as they begin a life together. I can't imagine starting out today, although I am sure it is no worse than when I married at 23. We were very young, as they are, and at that age you have a certain optimism and perspective that carries you through some lean times. I did not share with him the story of Terri and me looking forward to the Thursdays when we both got paid because we could splurge on a Del's Pizza from a small place in Essex Junction, VT. A loaded Del's pizza and a six-pack of beer and we were living large. My daughter was an infant, I was in grad school, and we had no....I mean no...money.

The reception was fairly typical for a Western Pennsylvania wedding. Lots of food, plenty of beer and an open bar, home made hot sausage, and the cookie table. Everyone's favorite, the cookie table with a chocolate fountain and lots of strawberries for dipping. The DJ played all the usual wedding songs, "we are family", "celebrate", "the chicken dance", and the Pennsylvania Polka for the bridal dance. The bridal dance is a "pay a buck to dance with the bride" deal which now extends to the groom. I gave them a $20 and told my nephew to invest in dance lessons. He is a terrific young man and I wish them all the best.

The big difference in this event was the wedding itself. They married in a church that still celebrates the Latin Mass. I spent my earliest years with the Latin mass but by second or third grade Vatican II had come in and Latin started its rapid decline into "dead language" territory.

For those unfamiliar with the Latin Mass it is not designed for participation as much as observation. The priest spends most of the service with his back to the congregation. It is heavy on ritual and repetition. The prayer book moves from side to side bathed in sandalwood smoke, the bells ring throughout the consecration of the host, no one but the priest touches the host, there is a small pan placed under the communicant's chin as communion is received so no crumbs of the sacrament touch the floor. The whole service, wedding and mass lasted 1 hour and 40 minutes.

Most of my friends and family know that I am not religiously inclined. The church and I parted ways several years ago, and I am certain that our differences are irreconcilable. That said I realized that my nephew has really committed himself to this church and this young woman, and I have enormous respect for that. There is a richness to the ritual, and an ancient connection through the use of Latin and the non-involvement of the congregants. While it is not a choice I would make, I understand the need for ritual and the comfort that many people find in the church. I struggle with the exclusivity of the congregation. If you were not a practicing catholic, or following catholic doctrine you were NOT to take communion. That was clear. The priest also made much of the woman's role in marriage and the necessity of procreation. He indicated that marriage was under attack.

There was so much I disagree with, but I have to recognize that there is a role for ritual in our lives. Some of us find it in the cup of coffee shared with a friend, with the office celebration of someone's good fortune or anniversary, or, for some the exclusive ritual of an ancient language shared among like minded souls...

something positive

I was originally going to call this "Reasons why Jenn Carney is so awesome" because she threatened to stop reading my posts if I didn't post something happier than musings on head injuries and loss...but I thought twice about such a blatant ploy for readership...sorry, Jenn.

This feels a bit self-congratulatory, and that is not easy for me. I am not good at seeking or accepting compliments, but I want to share how proud I am of my children, young adults though they may be.

July is shaping up to be a good month for my progeny. My son Thomas has found a good job, with benefits and opportunities in his field. He'll be doing project management for a local leasing firm, and I am very happy for him. My youngest, Craig, will soon start a quality engineering position locally. He too will have a good salary, benefits, and chances for growth. Caitlin was recently honored at her workplace as an innovator. She is a creative and innovative person who also does not deal well with praise. She felt she totally fumbled her speech...

It is not about the money, although I am pleased that they all will be reasonably well compensated for their efforts. I am pleased because they are wonderful people, good citizens, and hard workers. Thomas is one of the most ethical people I know. He is a good solid person who others admire and respect, I know I do. Years ago he was honored by his principal for standing up to bullies on behalf of a classmate who has some obvious disabilities. He stood by an injured friend after an unfortunate fight years ago, staying with him at a hospital and getting him treatment, He may have saved his life. I am very proud of him.

Craig has turned many disappointments into opportunities. He has applied for many positions in his major field of criminal justice, but has been able to learn quality work in manufacturing through on the job training and self-discipline. As a student athlete I saw him make decisions that benefited his team at his expense. He can be selfless and honorable. I am very proud of him.

Caitlin is a talented designer and technician. She never seems to give herself credit for the skills she has, and she is surprised when others recognize and praise her for them. She may be most like me, we have similar tastes in music and literature and I love spending time with her. She has established herself professionally, bought a home, and I am very proud of her as well.

I cannot ignore Terri's role in making these wonderful people. She took time away from her career to be with them when Craig was small, she has always made time for their games and concerts and events. She has been a wonderful partner to me and a wonderful Mother to my children.

So what? Why should anyone care about some guy's love letter to his children?

I am not asking you to care. I just want anyone who happens across this to know that I am filled with hope for the future when I look at them, when I examine their choices, when I spend time with their friends and significant others. I know I am biased, I know you can write this off as some random rambling by a middle-aged man who should be reading and writing for his own classes, but I wanted to share this. I had to share this.

Mixed emotions, or not...

I had a very disturbing experience recently, one that has made me think about how I perceive others and what I think I want from them. A friend and colleague committed an act of fraud that has ruined his career. He and I have not been in touch in some time, we both changed jobs and moved in different directions, but the time we had spent working together was enjoyable and important at the time. And now, I don't know what to say.

I accept that as much as I believe we are in the business of education, the business of changing lives and helping people realize their best selves, we are also in the credentialing business. Credentials are at the core of what we do, it is proof that people have met a standard.

My friend represented that he held credentials that he did not have. And my sense of my own ability to judge character is shaken.

He had been very complimentary to me when I, at last, gave up on an Ed.D. I was pursuing when I knew that I could not, would not, give it the time it demanded. Then, and now, I rationalized it as a choice I made, not a failure. It came down to the sacrifices I was unwilling to make, and I spent my time being a Scout Leader and an assistant coach, I went to games and concerts, and I didn't finish, and he lauded me for that. I was touched. I genuinely liked and respected him, his opinion mattered to me, he was a younger guy making big moves, and maybe, just maybe, (or probably) I got a vicarious thrill from his accomplishments. We presented at national meetings, we attempted to launch networks, we had the kind of intellectual discussions about our profession that I wanted and needed.

Was it all a sham?

I really don't like thinking that I have been misled. I hate feeling as though I let myself be played. And I hate most that someone I liked and admired and respected could fail so spectacularly.

some thoughts about head injuries...

I haven't written in a while, and while I would like to blame that on the busy-ness of work and life, the painful truth is that I often think about sharing something and then decide that NO ONE in their right mind would care about what I might think or say. But this is different. I wrote briefly about this on my web page and now I have processed and thought it through to where I feel I should say something. Even when the topic, the title above is so depressing or possibly morbid.

Junior Seau, a former professional football player, recently killed himself. He shot himself in the chest, sparing his brain, which his family has donated for research. I am not a die-hard football fan, but I liked what I saw of Junior Seau, he played hard and passionately, and he was a team leader. Dave Duerson formerly of the Chicago Bears killed himself in the same way not too long ago. Too often we hear about the post-concussion syndrome former NFL players experience and the toll it takes on their lives. Some might say, "so what? these guys make lots of money beating their own bodies and the bodies of others, why should I care?" to which I answer, because it isn't just at this level...

I played high school and college football, and while I was never a great player, I remember the head injuries I endured in practices and in games, and realize how much harder and faster these players at the "elite" levels are being hit. I was a 210lb defensive end in Division III, now players at my position might weigh 290lb and run a 4.4 40 yd dash. Agile, mobile, and hostile just scratches the surface...Besides the training, conditioning, and nutrition, what has changed? The equipment.

My first few helmets were lined with leather and cotton webbing like you would see in a nice preppy belt. It was a plastic shell with enough suspension to keep my head from colliding with the sides of the helmet. If I hit someone really hard, or if they hit me, I felt it. Big time. Later I had a more modern helmet with plastic and foam, and air bladders that helped fit the helmet to the unique contours of my head. I still had teammates who missed games due to severe concussions.

Today, I see updated technology, but the same basic designs, a hard shell lined with bladders and foam, but how well will it protect you, or your son, when a 200-300lb person moving at high speed collides with you? The problem as I see it is that the violence of the game has escalated as players have gotten bigger, stronger, and faster, and the equipment has not kept pace. Sure there are "flak" jackets for quarterbacks and other protective gear for necks and knees, but the helmet is more a weapon than it is a protection.

Lacrosse contact is not as violent as football, there are body checks but no tackles, and yet I have seen the same kind of glazed eyes on players in lacrosse, hockey, even soccer when big, strong, fast people collide.

So, I worry. I worry about young people with long lives ahead of them being permanently damaged just to play a game for too few years. I wonder how many of my 55 year old aches and pains are the residue of pushing a young body too hard, making it do and endure more than it needed.

By the way, my last concussion (at least the last one I remember) I received playing softball. (I wasn't a very good 2nd baseman.)