matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

God in the Aisle

I sometimes go to Mass with my wife for companionship, and today, I was certainly glad I did. Before I get into the reason why, some theology.

Catholics of course believe in something they call the "Real Presence," which is the belief that the bread and wine are the actual body and blood of Jesus. It's based on an Aristotelian concept of accident and essence -- what a thing looks like and what it really is. So the Catholic explanation of why it still looks suspiciously like bread and wine is that the outward appearance has remained, but the essential reality has changed.

This is why there's all the genuflection in churches and especially before monstrances, because if that really is God in the flesh flour, then it only makes sense to bow.

This also goes a long way in explaining the controversy about how a parishioner can take the host: standing, kneeling, on the tongue, on the palm of the hand. I think the variety is strictly American. In Poland, the issue is vastly simplified: stand or kneel. There's no way a priest will give it to your hand in Poland.

"Real Presence" also explains why some might be a little uneasy with the idea of anyone other than a priest handing out the host. In the States, members of the congregation hand out the blood and wine (though the priest has consecrated it and all that). Again, this is probably a completely American thing.

All this is to explain the significance of why I've always wondered what would happen if someone tripped and -- whoosh -- there's God, all over the floor.

At this morning's Mass, my question was answered.

An elderly woman, serving as Eucharistic minister, was heading back up to the altar (and so her chalices were probably almost empty) when suddenly there was a stumble, shuffle, and crash. I saw the whole thing out of the corner of my eye, and I immediately directed all my attention there -- as did everyone else in the basilica.

The priest kept right ongoing, but not many people were giving him their undivided attention. Everyone was looking at the aisle, watching the lady pick up the hosts as another Eucharistic minister helped her. Then a deacon came with a cloth that had been dampened, I'm assuming with holy water, and wiped the spot.

The woman was obviously quite shaken. She said some words to the priest, and he sympathetically comforted her. Returning to her seat, she muttered something to her husband, and that was that.

It highlights how atypical Catholicism is in modern culture, where all sense of the sacred has disappeared. "And so much the better" many of us would add, but sacredness fosters a certain respect that I'm not sure you can get any other way. It's simplistic to explain it, "Well of course it's respect -- born out of fear, a terror that some deity will toast you." There's certainly an element of truth in that.

Communism tried to foster some sense of the sacred -- the working masses were the vessels for salvation. The working man is the communist messiah. Marches, songs, flag-waving, speeches -- all these things to foster a sense of the sacred in the people. Yet it didn't work. My wife grew up in that culture, and it was all a joke for everyone. Why?

Man behind the curtainIt lacked mystery.

Without mystery, without an element of the unknown and inexplicable, nothing can be sacred. Indeed, sacredness could be defined as a sense of mystery about something thought to be of divine origin. If you see the little old man putting together the wizard show, hanging the curtains, preparing the control panel, it is only through an act of supreme wishful thinking that you can put your faith in the Wizard.

“Come on, just once!”

"Come on, Larry. Just once! Let's just see if she'll notice. I swear I won't do anything with her." How many twins have uttered something like that to their identical sibling, trying to convince the sibling to let him go on a date with his brother's girlfriend?

What if the twins both held public office, only one was much higher in rank? Say Jeb and W were twins -- wouldn't you think that Jeb would try, just once, to convince his brother to let him make some kind of address as the president? "Come on, Georgie! We ain't talkin' about a State of the Union address. It's just a little chat out in the Rose Garden. They'll never notice!"

We're fortunate that Jeb and W aren't twins, because they seem just, well, lacking-in-seriousness enough to try it.

Jarek KaczynskiSuch a situation is not inconceivable in the near future in Poland, though. Prime Minister Kazimierz Marcinkiewicz has resigned and the ruling party, PiS (Law and Order Justice -- Prawo i Sprawiedliwość), has indicated that they want Jarosław Kaczynski to take the position.

"Kaczynski. That sounds familiar," some might think.

Lech KaczynskiThat's because the president of Poland is Lech Kaczynski, Jarosław's twin brother.

Oh, he's so adorable, let's just call him "Jarek."

It's not clear whether Jarek is going to take the position. He turned it down earlier on the reasonable grounds that it might give some people the willies to have twin brothers in the two highest positions in the nation, but I think this time he'll just suffer through those discomforting thoughts and take the post.

But it's no big change. Jarek's been running the country for month's. Marcinkiewicz's just been a puppet, people say.

That sounds awfully familiar.

At any rate, the BBC report seems strangely enough to confirm this:

Over recent weeks, there had been frequent reports of a rift between Mr Marcinkiewicz and Jaroslaw Kaczynski over economic policy.

BBC did not use the Polish character "ł," pronounced like the English "w," so it's not a typo.

The KaczynskisWait a minute? I know Jarek is the PiS party leader, but his brother is president, is he not? Wouldn't it be tensions between the president and the PM that would cause the PM to resign, rather than tensions between the party boss and the PM? Unless, of course, the party boss is the boss.

The good thing in all this? At least Jarek will admit -- sort of -- that he's in charge.

A Modest Proposal

I prefer the English “football” to the American “soccer.” “American football” barely even makes use of the feet — fat seems critical there.

Perhaps one reason Americans don’t like football is because of the whining, says Jake Novak in Newsday. The Week writes that “European soccer players seem to spend most of the game writing in fake agony.”

Indeed, diving in football — intentionally falling to make it appear one has been fouled — is a growing concern in European football.

Germany World Cup-winning captain and coach Franz Beckenbauer has asked for there to be a crackdown on divers and cheaters.

“The players are looking for an advantage and they attempt to exploit the situation,” said the head of Germany’s 2006 organising committee.

“At the beginning of the tournament, I felt the referees were showing yellow cards too early for trivial offences but the players make it much harder by simulating, and by staying lying on the ground to interrupt play,” he said.

“Perhaps everyone — players, referees and administrators can get around a table after this to come up with a solution to put an end to this kind of unfortunate incidents. (“BBC News)

Often, you see a player gnashing his teeth in pain, clutching a shin video replay shows to have been hardly tapped by an opponent’s leg. The paramedics and team physical trainer all come running out with a medical case and stretcher, only to find that — hey! — he can walk after all! In fact, after a few limps, he’s jogging, then running!

Miracle of miracles.

Aside from being immoral, this behavior simply slows a game of otherwise constant motion.

“How do we deal with it?” everyone moans.

And so I present my simple, three step process.

First, introduce the use of video replay into the game. Too often the ref is too far from the “foul” that takes place very quickly. To make a judgment that this was indeed a case of diving is difficult, at best.

Second, provide refs with a small, wireless video monitor. Simple. When a ref thinks there’s been a case of diving, he simply reviews the play on the monitor.

Third, implement a graduated penalty system for diving:

  • The penalty for the first offense of the season: a fine of 1% of the player’s annual contract income.
  • Second offense: 5%.
  • Third offense: 10%.
  • Fourth offense: suspension for the rest of the season, plus an additional 10% of the player’s annual contract income.

The proceeds of this go to a charity designed to provide football facilities in developing nations.

Diving would disappear very quickly.

One Foot On Each Continent

Only when you have lived in two countries can you really appreciate the fact that there is no perfect country. But that appreciation comes with a price — homelessness.

My adventure with kielbasa and vodka began ten years ago last month, when I packed off for what I thought would be two years in central Europe. Little did I know — I lived there for seven years, all told.

The fact that I returned shows that I really didn’t need the last four years to call the place “home.” I’m still not even close to fluent in Polish (nor will I ever be) and the average Pole can still drink me under the table (though I’m not ashamed of that), but somehow the sausage and freezing winters did something to my DNA, and I feel at least partially Polish.

Every time I came back to the States, I lived through reverse culture shock. I immediately hated it and loved it: the ability to get humus at four in the morning versus a culture that seems to be in love with kitche; a hundred kilometers in under an hour versus ridiculous health insurance.

It was even worse moving back the first time. Poland called to me even in my dreams. When I went back for a visit after a year in Poland — culture shock, of a sort. “I can’t believe I lived here!”

Yet there was a strange comfort there, and so I went back, fully aware of the challenges and fully prepared for the material sacrifices. A few days after arriving, I wrote in my journal: “Will I ever learn to be happy with my life as it is at that very moment?”

I hated it. And stayed four more years.

Back to America, full of high hopes, and I hate it again.

Once you live in another culture, your legs are knocked out from under you. You see the silver lining and the disgusting grey of both cultures, and you realize you’ll probably never be entirely happy in either.

Myopic America: Thoughts on the Fourth of July

Kinga and I have now been back in the States a little over a year. That, combined with the date, makes it appropriate to share some of the thoughts I’ve been having about America lately.

If you were to ask Kinga, after a year here, “What do you think of America?” she’d answer unhesitatingly and unflinchingly, “I hate it.” No, this is not going to turn into an America-bashing diatribe, but I have to admit that, on some level, I do too. Not the people, or the culture, or the government, or even the geography.

I hate the paradox of America.

America in so many ways is an amazing nation. We have freedoms unimagined in other countries. Think of the David Irving conviction for Holocaust denial in Austria and the trial of Oriana Fallaci in Italy for insulting Islam. Such nonsense doesn’t happen here, and the fact that I grew up here explains why I call it “nonsense.” Freedom of speech is so engrained in my thinking that I hate to imagine the purgatorial existence life without it would constitute. Freedom of religion, freedom from religion, protection against unwarranted police action (though this could of late be qualified with “some degree of “), access to legal remediation of wrongs done to us – the list could continue for a few more lines. Additionally, we have attained a standard of living in one short year in America that we would not have in three years in Poland. The economy there is simply shot.

The wealth of this country is unbelievable as well, at least on the surface. The majority of us have a standard of living here that few in the world enjoy. We have a highway system on a scale that beats anything I’ve ever seen. Anything and everything is literally available at any time of day.

And yet…

That wealth is illusory. Who owns our houses, our cars, our computers and furniture – most anything that costs more than we’re able to pay in cash? Banks. We “common” folk have a medium income of roughly $42,000. The average CEO makes $11 million, more in one day than the average American makes in a year. So there is wealth, it’s just not evenly distributed.

The freedoms I speak of are, more often than not, abused. Lawsuits increase, insurance goes up, and in the end, it’s the same story – a few (the winning plaintiffs) getting rich off the toil of the many.

The amazing freedom of speech we have results in what? Thoughtful public debate about issues? Certainly not – talk shows!

America was once a leader in technology and development. We were the first to fly, the first to land on the moon (oops – not the first in space…), the first this, the first that. Americans used to dominate the world of computer programming. And now?

The most amazing thing about this country is also, at the moment, the most ridiculous: our government. We’re bogged down in Iraq; “democratic Afghanistan” is a joke, as the Taliban slowly reasserts itself and Christians almost get executed for being just that; our reliance of fossil fuels is beginning to cause real problems; we’ve lost world respect with the shameful holding facility at Guantanamo Bay; New Orleans has still not fully recovered from the trilateral fiasco of local, state, and national “leadership”; the Bush administration is taking unparalleled liberties with our liberties – and what does Congress do about it? Why, debate the pressing issues of gay marriage and flag burning, of course.

The paradox of America is that it is shortsighted. It’s a young country and it acts the part, especially of late – the blustering machismo of a sixteen-year-old. As a nation, as a populous, we don’t look beyond our own noses. The average American, I would wager, has no idea why gas prices have doubled before our eyes. The fact that SUV sales in the first quarter of 2006 were on par with 2005 growth expectations despite rocketing fuel costs shows the American mindset perfectly. It’s all about short-term material pleasure. In American Axle & Manufacturing’s first quarter fiscal report for 2006, we read, “We are encouraged by the initial market acceptance of GM’s new full-size SUVs and look forward to supporting the launch of GM’s new full-size pick-ups later this year.” (Source) Yes – be encouraged by this recklessly myopic market phenomenon! You’ll make money from it!

American Axle & Manufacturing’s good news is indeed good from a certain perspective: it will provide, in theory, jobs. But to Americans? I doubt it. Perhaps the most striking examples of myopic America are the education and health care systems. America lags so far behind the rest of the western world in providing education and universal health care for its citizens that it would be laughable if it weren’t so tragic.

Not only do many citizens have to scrounge to afford a university education, but the education provided to the public for free (i.e., primary and secondary schools) is so far academically behind the rest of the world that we’re literally laughed at. Some months ago, when I told Kinga what I was working on with eleventh and twelfth graders in general math while substitute teaching, she laughed, “We did that in fourth and fifth grade.”

Yet nothing compares to the chasm between American and European health care. When Polish friends moved to Belgium, the total hospital cost for delivering their second baby was around two hundred euros. Two hundred euros. I doubt you can get much more than an aspirin in an American hospital for that.

Are any of these situations improving? If so, I’ve yet to see evidence of it. Yet, hope and cliches spring eternal…

What I feel most often on the Fourth of July now is mild sadness. I don’t expect America to fall in some spectacular way, but rather to dim slowly, like a candle in an oxygen-starved room. It will burn, but it won’t provide any light to speak of.

The Fourth of July, I’m afraid, will eventually not be a day of pride. It won’t be filled with fireworks and patriotic speeches about sacrifice and a noble cause. It will be a day of remembrance, a day to recall how powerful this nation used to be. A day to recall how we traded our independence for SUVs and iPods.

Chimney Rock

Making Us Proud

Our local minor league team, the Asheville Tourists (?!?), made national news. Rather, the manager did.

Exceptions

Except birds

Burning the Witch

RCG Conference Observations

We've been wondering for some time just how "big" David Pack's little cult is. He wants everyone to believe that, because of growing website hits, his group is growing at a phenomenal rate and people are joining on a daily basis.

Unfortunately, Pack let some of his minions speak—and he posted their summaries on the website.

Called the “2006 Conference Sabbath Reports" and the "2006 Post-Conference Sabbath Reports," these six messages show just how dismal things are for the Restored Church of God, and the make clear just how heavily the RCG is relying on its website numbers to prove to itself that it is “doing a great work.”

The speakers were:

  • Robert Farrell, covering the United Kingdom;
  • John Sherwin, discussing Australia;
  • Mark Sharpe, reporting on Jamaica;
  • Larry McElroy, discussing the Western United States;
  • Victor Cabrera, talking about the Spanish work;
  • Michael Venish, covering Southern Africa; and
  • Ernest Owino, reporting on East Africa.

Each and every report followed the same basic pattern. Pack must have told them, “Talk about your country and the perils its facing now, then finally spend the last two minutes discussing the Restored Church of God in your country, careful not to give any numbers.”

Most of them did as they were probably told. But Pack simply didn't think things through carefully enough, and didn't provide an extensive enough list of dos and don'ts for his guest speakers.

England -- Robert Farrell

Mr. Farrell was an odd speaker, because by his own admission he doesn't even live in Britain, though he might be moving there! His qualifications? He lived in Britain in the 1990's, and knows some of the members there.

Mr. Farrell spends most of his time discussing things that an educated American already knows about England. He laments the fact that there are some places in England where you can go and not find one person “of Israelite descent.”

He of course gives the standard “the country is going to hell in every way imaginable” speech, mentioning the horrid drought in the southeast and the incredible impact that's having on the economy.

Finally, after thirteen minutes of blather, we get to the details about “God's work in Britain.” The Work began in Britain in the 1950s, we're told, when Radio Luxembourg began transmitting the World Tomorrow radio program. At its zenith, the Work had some 3,000 members in Britain. But that's all changed since the apostasy, of course. “All the splinters are there,” and he names LCG, PCG, and “David Hume's group” -- this is a break in Pack's tradition of not spelling out which splinter he's talking about, even though it's obvious.

He goes on and on until, at 14:10, he finally begins talking about the RCG. The “RCG held its first feast in Britain in 2000, and since then, growth has been slow, but steady, and it's currently picking up.” What's the sign of this increased growth? More members? Of course not! There are simply “thousands of people who come to our website each month from Britain.”

Oh my! All those server hits from Britain.

In a surprise, though, he does give a demographic breakdown of the group. It's multinational. Nationalities represented include:

  • British
  • Polish
  • Zimbabwe
  • Bulgaria
  • Italy
  • Pakistan
  • the Caribbean

He also discusses the fact that a lot of the members are older. I for one was shocked to hear that.

And that's about it. Now we, like the membership, know absolutely nothing of any specific importance about the Work in Britain. Perhaps Mr. Sherwin from Australia will do better...

Australia -- John Sherwin

Mr. Sherwin takes a novel approach in his report, discussing first all of the tragedies besetting Australia, thus proving that God has removed his protection. Why, there have been cyclones and droughts! There's unemployment! Why, there are even immigration issues!

He too blathers on about this and than, finally spending the last two minutes talking about the Work in Australia. See, in Mr. Armstrong's time, the WCG in Australia had about 3.3% of the membership: about 5,000 out of 150,000. Now it has – well, quite frankly, we don't know, and neither probably does the RCG membership itself.

Mr. Sherwin does admit that “there has been little growth in membership.” However, things are looking up, because there has been “quite large growth in web site visits” from Australia.

Ah, well, that just puts everyone's mind at ease.

Jamaica -- Mark Sharpe

First, Mr. Sharpe explains to us where Jamaica is, which is good, because I was sure it was right next to Nauru. That established, Mr. Sharpe explains the importance of hurricanes, sugar, and bananas. Finally, rounding out the "It's a Small World" overview of Jamaica, we get to little fascinating trivia tibits. Did you know that Jamaica was the first tropical country to enter the Winter Olympics? And also, did you know that Jamaica is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the country having the most number of churches per square mile?

Well, that's it – no more proof for me. The RCG is the one.

Now, Mr. Sharpe does eventually discuss the Work in Jamaica. He explains that broadcasts were first heard in the 1950s and that by 1966, there were three baptized members in Jamaica. The first congregation with a minister started in the mid-1970s, and currently, there are three splinters there: Living, United, and the Church of the Great God.

What about the RCG? About all we hear about them is that, sadly, “most brethren are unemployed or poorly paid, or are pensioners.” That is sad, because it means they're probably suffering.

Finally, the first batch of reports ends back in the good ole U.S. of A.

Western U.S. -- Larry McElroy

Things are not going well in the splinters, Mr. McElroy explains. The people in the splinters are seeing their houses “are not in order.” Why? “What's happening is a dynamic, time released spiritual explosion causing fallout from the largest splinter group in the world.” And he repeats it because everyone laughs.

What does this have to do with his message? Nothing, really. I guess it was just a way to segue into the “explosion” the Work in the western States is experiencing.

It all started about a month ago, you see. In the Phoenix area, where Mr. McElroy lives, “a couple requested information about the SEP package” which is great, “because we'd been there about sixteen months and nothing had really happened.” Then the “sister of this couple” (We now know that the RCG's sexual purity laws aren't quite as strict as we might have suspected.) called and wanted the information too, as well as a good anointing. Mr. McElroy went to anoint her, and because she still lives with her parents, he was able to talk to the whole family. They were just thrilled that they'd finally found “a place where the truth was still taught.” Not “the” place, but “a” place.

The next day, her brother called and admitted that he'd been reading the SEP info online! They had all the booklets shipped overnight from Ohio so that they could lay them all out on a table by their piano. They went to their regular UCG service that week because there was a funeral, but since then, they've been going to the RCG. And while at the UCG, the matriarch of the family – who's also a deaconess – did a bit of proselytizing, and might end up getting another older lady (“who didn't have Internet access”) to join the Pack bandwagon.

But there’s more! A UCG deacon gave a split sermon about the Elijah, and “we know he got all the material from the website.” How do they know this? Spies? Rumors? Guessing? An awkward pause with some laughter, and he adds, “Because we know nobody else has got this stuff.” And this UCG deacon couldn't possibly have come up with the stuff himself, even with the WCG foundation he probably has.

In short, things are just exploding. He’s sent out 20 SEPs and possibly “50 to 60 people” have heard about the truth, thanks to this family!

Finally, at the end, he spills the secret: all these people are folks they've known, up to twenty-five years – had them in their home for dinner. In other words, no new blood! They're still drawing on those who are disillusioned with this or that splinter group and can't get their masochistic fix.

Spanish-speaking Countries -- Victor Cabrera

Mr. Cabrera was giving his first sermonette in English, and so it would be improper to do more than mention that in Mexico City there are the two biggest splinters: United and Living. There are not a lot of people in Restored yet. One reason is that they need more of the truth in Spanish. Let’s hope they don’t get it.

Southern Africa -- Michael Venish

Mr. Venish continues the pattern earlier reporters provided, starting his talk with a long history of South Africa. Finally, we learn a little about the Work in South Africa: Waterhouse set up a church in 1963 in southern Africa. And it was just wonderful – SEP camps, Spokesman's Clubs, and 400k PT subscribers.

And that’s it. What about the RCG? They don’t even know.

East Africa -- Ernest Owino

We all know Mr. Owino from his famous defection from Meredith’s Living Church of God. Yet he doesn’t abuse his world star status by breaking the pattern set down by the previous speakers. He dutifully covers a little history of Kenya and the situation there: violence, poverty, death.

All the same, Mr. Owino’s report is, in many ways, the most interesting. He tells of a visit he had from Meredith after Owino had quite Living to go with Restored. He prepared for Meredith's visit by putting a pile of RCG literature on the desk by the front door.

"I just want to chat," Meredith reportedly said. "This has nothing to do with religion.”

But Mr. Owino wanted to talk about religion: "Why can't you do this kind of work?" he asked Meredith.

He breathed deeply and told me, "Ernest, we simply can't afford it." [...] I asked him, "Don't you have the millions of dollars, and very many members – thousands of them?" He said, "We simply can't understand how Mr. Pack and his team at headquarters is doing this work."

Meredith reportedly picked up Anoint Your Eyes and said that they simply couldn't afford to produce even one book like that, and even if they couldn't they couldn't post it. "Now what do you make of that?" asked Mr. Owino.

Indeed, what do you make of that? You can pop over to the LCG's site and see that they do have a few booklets that they print and send out. Surely, Mr. Owino wasn't exaggerting for the benefit of his listeners? To flatter them?

That would be wrong – that would be what the LCG is doing: “using Mr. Armstrong's name to flatter people.”

Good Hope Has Come

That’s the title Michael Venish gave to his report, but I think it might be applicable to the whole group of messages.

What hope?

We learn from these reports that the RCG is simply a joke. Their membership levels are stagnant in most places, and the only thing that is growing is the supposed hits on their pathetic little web site. The hope, though probably mistaken, is that the RCG will eventually implode.

At the very least, we have the security of know that their message is not making much of an impact on those who do not have a WCG background.

Blasphemous Rumors

I’m supposing we all know who Oriana Fallaci is:

The trial of Oriana Fallaci, a journalist and author accused of defaming Islam in a book, was opened and adjourned yesterday in an Italian court.

What is it with Europe and free speech? First of all there was David Irving’s trial in Austria for Holocaust denial. That makes a little sense (a very little sense) because Austria and Germany are still understandably, say, sensitive about the Holocaust. Very good — they should be. But putting people in jail for what they say is not the way to deal with it.

The Fallaci trial is even more ridiculous:

The charge stems from a recent book, The Strength of Reason, one of a trilogy she has published since the September 11 attacks on the US. In the book, Fallaci, 77, is alleged to have made 18 blasphemous statements, including referring to Islam as “a pool that never purifies”. (Guardian Unlimited)

What gets me is the choice of words: blasphemous. Since when is Italy under sharia law? Since when is it okay to insult Christianity (as some claim the Da Vinci Code does) but no other religion?

I’m an equal-opportunity offender. If a religion — or anything — does or promotes something harmful or stupid, I’ll comment on it, usually in the negative. If you’re offended by that, walk away. Don’t listen. Ignore me.

And it’s such an amazing juxtaposition with the whole Danish cartoon controversy. The swinging pendulum of European justice…

Seven Months

Playground

Seven months’ work with seven autistic children came to an end last Friday, the last day of school. “I feel I’m a better person for the experience,” I said to a colleague. So many daily lessons – as Elie Wiesel often says of his students, I learned far more than I taught.

I learned how to separate the behavior from the child. The child and the behavior – and I’m talking of crises: spitting, hitting, screaming, kicking, crawling under a table, self-destructive behavior, etc. – are not equivalent. Indeed, it is very seldom the child actually behaving that way, but rather the condition taking over and running things for a few moments, or minutes. You can see it in the eyes, and hear it in the voice.

I learned that there are far more difficult things to deal with as a teacher than a belligerent teenager. Countless times during the last seven months I was at a complete loss as to what to do, what to say, how to behave. This was partially a function of my lack of education in the EC field. When a child is in crisis, it’s a natural reaction to try to discuss it, to try to “talk him down.” In the world of autism, that seldom works. I learned to do so many things in exact opposition to my every instinct.

I learned what true student progress can entail. A couple of the students finished the year as completely different children than when they started. Gains in reading ability, social interaction, verbal expression, math skills, and general life skills left me simply astounded, and understandably proud that I had something to do with it.

I learned that even many regular education teachers feel they wouldn’t be able to work with such “difficult” children. “You guys are the saints of the school,” someone once told me, and a couple of others expressed an inexplicable admiration of “what we do.” What we did was not very different from regular education: try to teach children and minimize the behavior issues that impede learning. It’s just in special ed, the behaviors can be more concentrated. It’s sometimes a triple espresso to regular education’s thin, pale diner coffee.

As something of a correlate of the previous two points, I learned how to recognize true appreciation in the eyes and voice of parents. When I began working there as a substitute teacher, I was told that most subs last one day and refuse ever to come back. Full-time aides must be relatively difficult to find as well. Almost to a parent, everyone told me, “We really hope you’ll be back next year, though given the pay, we’d all understand if you didn’t.”

Finally, I learned that I have a patience I never knew I had, and it also has its bounds.

I leave with a greater understanding of autism, a greater respect for the parents of autistic children who live with autism every day.

Most of all, I leave with greater sympathy and respect for children with autism. They are the ones caught in a trap with varying degrees of understanding what that trap _is_, let alone how to get out. And yet they so often show those of us working with them things we never would have noticed because of the unique perspective from which they see every little thing.

Corpus Christi

From my journal ten years ago today — my first experience with Corpus Christi, though I had no idea what it was.

I am waiting for the bus, sitting in front of a church. I went in for a moment, but decided I should probably leave – I didn’t cross myself with holy water (It appears to be stagnant water with a greasy film.) and I was getting a few looks (though there were several others who did not cross themselves either).

Suddenly the bells began ringing and eventually I caught sight of a procession coming around from behind the church. Choir boys were dinging small bells and behind them was a procession of relics. A little behind that was the priest, walking under a canopy supported by six men, preceded by a young priest waving an incense burner. The head priest was holding a staff with a gold sun in front of his face – he was led by the arms, for he certainly couldn’t see where he was going. Behind the priest was a group of loosely organized lay-persons, singing a capella. The woman beside me knelt as the group went by. A strange thing, this Christianity.

Ten years ago. Ten years. Ten years…

Lunch Rules

Lunch Rules

Last Days in EC Classroom