The Principal Takes Control

    The Principal Takes Control 

    In the Inland Empire of Southern California there are many public high schools where the students suffer from a lack of a few critical things that help them be effective students. This list includes parents that do not make much money and therefore struggle to support their children; there are also parents that are missing, absent from the home, illegally subsisting due to documentation issues, imprisoned for criminality, running or abusing drugs, or living irresponsibly in many other ways. There are many parents that are hard working law abiding citizens, yes, but because of the general malaise of surrounding neighborhoods and high school districts, all the children are under threat from many of the above mentioned problems that affect and afflict the adults as well as their families and children.
    One high school in San Bernardino had a young third year principal named Ron Bernal who was overwhelmed by the problems of discipline and general disrespect that would surge throughout the year and flare up especially as it got warmer in the spring. He noted that the surrounding high schools of his and surrounding cities were all similar:  they were suffering the same symptons of youthful rebelliousness that translated in some kids getting expelled, some getting hurt, some who were simple victims of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  These sudden flare ups of emotion would affect morale among both the students and the staff, not to mention the school security. And of course worse educational and academics, as well as extra curricular activities were negatively impacted. Every year.
    One night he had an inspirational idea that he thought would help the situation: he was a religious guy who had been in the military. He knew that he could not impose military nor religious tactics to improve campus behavior and discipline. So he formulated his plan on a Sunday night and called up a counselor, a locally hired ombudsman, and both the football and basketball coaches. He explained his plan to them and then set up an after school meeting that Wednesday.
    He decided to call in 30 influential male students, with the help of the staff and the coaches in their selection as leaders of their peers to all meet in a class room at 4:00 pm that Wednesday after school. Based on how that went, he was going to do the same thing with 30 female students the following week.
    So that Wednesday at 4:00 pm the 35 of them convened at a classroom, strategically picked so that they would not be noticed by the rest of the student population. Doctor Bernal had gone out of his way to personally invite each of the thirty young men, offering to contact a parent or coach or boss or parole officer if necessary. These selected young men were going to be there.

    They were surprised when they got together and looked around their fellow classmates. Some were captains of the sports teams; some were known for crimes or even occasional gang associations, some had great grades and some not so much. But they all had one thing in common: they all had influence on their peers for good or bad.

   "Ok, guys, you don't know why we adults have called you here, but in a less than thirty minutes you will know why. We may or may not be successful at what I am suggesting that we do; my colleagues support me in this, so know that we have put some thought in it and we believe that this plan will help all of us. Just to let you know off the bat, the reason why you are here is because we know that each of you are strong and influential as leaders and your peers look up to you. That is a sincere compliment. If I were lying about that you could tell, I want you to trust me. Trust everybody in this room, including each other, old or young. That is part of what we want to do with this meeting.
   Bernal walked from one student to another, looking at each one. He set up the room so that he could walk all the way around, so no one would be too distant or hide from his stare, his message.
   He continued," Every year we have a problem, especially as the year ends. As our students get feistier, usually on a Friday around lunch, we get in pretty bad fights. Do I have to explain this? You all have been here for a while and you are not dumb. You have seen it, lived it. If you have been a part of it before: I am not here to blame you, or make you feel guilty. This has been going on for years and you did not start it. It's a natural occurrence for a few reasons. Got it.  But whether you realize it or not, these fights not only lead to students getting penalized and hurt, but our studies and grades suffer from it. And who is paying the most for these problems in the end? You the students. Not cool."
   Ron was quiet for a few seconds. Then he looked at the adults and the students. "Any questions or comments?" The adults shook their heads. Many of the young men did, too. Some looked perplexed or uncomfortable. But most were pretty interested, and they were thinking. Their curiosity was piqued.
    "So here it is, short and sweet. Few times in your life will you be empowered like right now to have such a positive effect on so many people at such a critical time in your and their lives. We are asking you to do everything within your power to quell the violence as it crops up as we know it does. Talk to your buddies, no matter how big or small, brave or timid. Let them know that we, all of us, I'm talking team captains, crew leaders, strong guys that we know you are, students, honor roll or those underachievers in their classes, that we are not going to throw down this spring. In years past we have had up to five or six of these break out fights, and it leaves us in a bad way. Grades suffer, learning is curbed and stunted. You lose, we lose, I lose. Not cool."
    "I realize that you may not believe that is is a big deal, but it is. And here's the additional bonus for all of you: if we are successful in quelling these throw downs, it's going to take on an added significance. Starting this year, and into the future, and years from now, you may not remember me or much about these years at this high school. That's fine. Move on with your life and do great things. High school does not usually equate to many of our best years, I know that. But I assure you, you will know more about yourselves, what a team working together can do, and that we can make a difference and that we do not have to sit idly by and let circumstances overwhelm us, and that we can be forces of good. You don't have to believe me now, but these things will translate into attributes and lessons for success in the future. You will be a better person for having participated and made a difference."
  He paused. A few hands were raised. Some questions and comments were raised. Good points, good feedback.
   A few minutes later the San Bernardino Principal piped back in. "By raise of hands, how many of you here now will commit to make this work this school year?"

 All of them raised their hands.

Doctor Bernal told them at the end," I am not here to waste your or my time. Let's do this and move on with our lives. This is something we can do. If we have a fight this year, I understand. If we have two. Too bad. Three? No, not that good. But I believe we can make this work, and with your efforts and cooperation as you have shown today to be in good faith, we are going to make this a better or best year. Thanks for coming, and more importantly, thanks for seeing this thing for what it is and doing something about it."

 They dismissed after twenty minutes, all were energized.

   You tell me how the rest goes.
  

  

James Hardy: The Best and the Worst Face of Indiana Football, a Program Riding Uphill

I read that a former Indiana football player was found dead in a river. The weather now in June is warm across the country, school is out and kids and adults are playing outdoors. Accidents happen. Many famous and unknown people have died in recreational accidents.

What type of incident was this? Would I know who this player was? Was he a walk-on guy who never got much playing time and never even had a big play for a major college football program that has had moments of glory but never achieved true championship status?

Who had died so prematurely and tragically? Was he older? Had he played for my hometown IU squad before I was born?

No. Oh no. It was an elite player. One of the best.

James Hardy.

That guy. He had some tough moments in life; he appeared to have a tough death.

James had originally played for the Indiana basketball team under former Coach Mike Davis just 3 seasons removed from the Hurry'n Hoosiers competing for the NCAA national basketball championship in 2002. James had awesome athletic credentials. 6'7", strong, fast, elite.

A native Hoosier of Fort Wayne, breeding ground of many Indiana athletes, James became one of the best receivers in IU history, outpacing all others in receiving yards in three years,  and going pro early.

He did not have a great professional career, but he went farther than most who put on cleats in college.

I don't know if he saved his money well, but reading about him later I found he had planned on doing some acting and modeling in the entertainment industry after the football days.

He had had some domestic problems when still a student athlete, and apparently he had a drug problem for years, which may have lead to his untimely death.

Alas, IU athletes. Football players. There is always a range of imperfect people who play these high level high attention sports.

Indiana has always had an uphill battle when it comes to the gridiron. Not blessed and endowed with the history-rich traditions of Michigan or Ohio State, or dozens of other large schools across the Midwest and the rest of the country, us Indiana football long suffering fans have put up with a lot of futility over the years. There have been some good seasons, some great upsets.

Many times when we think we have a winning player or team, something comes up to spoil those hopes. Domestic violence issues. Drug charges. Underage drinking. Injuries. Academic ineligibility. Transfers to other schools or de-commiting  from the program. Coaches who choose another job for a bigger contract, coaches who die of brain cancer, coaches who are released for not helping their injured players enough.

Indiana has seen it all. And that is off the field of play.

In between the grid irons? Whew! Do you have a couple of days?

Of course, the relationship of the caliber and tenure of coaches and players off the field has a direct correlation to what happens on the field, game day. Which affects the crowds, which affects revenues, which affects overall morale and success. Or many years of failure and frustration.

Which brings us back to James Hardy. The best we have had? Not really, there have been better, maybe not visible on the score sheet, but IU has had better receivers in the college games and moving on to the pros.

But hard to find one as talented. And as troubled.

James Hardy, symbolic harbinger of the bittersweet sport of Indiana college football.

So much promise, so much unreached potential and accomplishment.

Mr. Hardy and family and IU football community: may this young 31 year-old former star rest in peace. May he be remembered for his good impact on those he knew, loved, and represented. And may the program he flourished under find a way to succeed, to get over the hump of being the hard luck loser on days when Indiana football could be able to succeed and bring some joy to us longtime fans.

Life is not easy, life is not fair. But life does have a way of giving back to those who put forth effort, passion, sacrifice, and devotion. Indiana will get there, despite the travails. Watch out powerhouses and perennial winners: the Hoosiers are going to get you when you think that its teams are destined to lose. Triumphs still await.

And James is hopefully discovering this now, above. God bless you. May He bless our team, and your memories with it. Thanks for giving us a few great moments of your life, for the underdog.

Win or lose, we choose to overcome.

Chaplains in the US Military

    What do We Know?

     I do not know a lot about the history of the United States military chaplains in the five services; perhaps I know more than some. I myself (along with my wife) became seriously interested in pursuing the path of an Army chaplain job back in 2004, provoked because my faith sent out a letter (an email) with a request for 200 more Latter-day Saint chaplains to sign up, as our US forces were heavily engaged in Afghanistan and Iraq at the time, and the leadership saw a need. My wife and I pushed the issue with an Army recruiter, made calls and emails to other recruiters in other states, but it turns out that the Army was not willing to provide enough paid education to become the part, so it did not happen. I even was looking at the opportunity, education and all, as recently as 2013, but that did not pan out either. It has been a few years since 2004 (13 years later); I have met with a few US chaplains since then, some formally and some less so. I have some impressions about them that may or not inform others about their roles, their place in the military and life.

    One thing that struck me lately about the role of military chaplains was an article about US service people and the constant problem of suicide, those in service and veterans, those who served honorably and left, those damaged by horrors and privations, those who have hit their last rungs on the rope after serving their country in uniform. One person who became depressed and took his own life was affected when a chaplain that he knew was killed by an Improvised Explosive Device in a vehicle in Iraq, which had a worsening effect on his own mental strength. No one knows all the reasons why people take their own lives, but apparently this soldier of little admitted faith in God was deeply affected by the loss of someone who did, in this case a paid professional soldier of the cloth. No chaplain realistically ever thought that this would be the effect of their service, I imagine. But it happened.

   If anything, a chaplain and their role is to help all service people's morale; it does not include having suicides occur because of the chaplain's ill fate. When it backfires, when a chaplain cannot stave off these collective or individual traumas and dilemmas, when soldiers or Marines or others do kill themselves, I think many wonder about the efficacy of the function of such an officer "of the cloth". Paid clergy, not a combat duty. Is this an effective military position at all?

     I have spoken with multiple soldiers and other service people about chaplains over the years, and some have negative impressions-- they see an officer in such a capacity as frivolous or unnecessary. Almost as if a religious-based officer were "in the way" of those doing the "real work" of the Army. I understand that perspective. Some people in the Army, for example, see military intelligence soldiers and professionals as incidental to the conflicts at hand, that they are merely window dressing or worse, in the way as an impediment of the real fight. Military intelligence soldiers carry weapons but do not engage in combat unless first fighting is directed against them, normally, similar to the Standard Operating Procedure of chaplains. Of course, most military people who know anything about war and combat operations know very well that military intelligence is key to winning any fight. Let the debates ever rage on. Point is, the significance of any profession or roll is debatable. And thus, chaplains.

    What do Chaplains Do?

    On a personal level, chaplains have been helpful to me. There have been a few times of distress where a chaplain was there to help; I know that the chaplain in question did their job in aiding me, usually with father and family duties that the Big Army was intruding on, or that I felt was unfair to me as an individual. Besides some professional help rendered, I am a social animal; I enjoy learning and interacting with people, so I have benefited with chaplain classes and conversations, as well as the ecclesiastical duties that they have at times performed while I was around, for me and other soldiers, offering a message or sermon of hope and consolation. They conduct religious services that are part of normal life to many, and perhaps offer a new avenue of access to those who have not been in touch with organized religion before. Which can be life-enhancing.
     Chaplains are supposed to be an extra level of support for the military to call on, to help the rank and file members of the military to have a balance of faith and morale, a steady voice of reason and hope in a business that can be brutal. Historically, many Americans have been very religious and therefore the presence of a chaplain allows the private or enlisted soldier to have a modicum of some normalcy, which can be hard to find at many bases, duty stations, or in the fighting fronts or fields around the world.
    Chaplains of all faiths are a friendly and non-threatening face (or are supposed to be) of an officer who has authority, who will not condemn you, and has some rights to privacy and discretion regarding your personal problems. He or she is there to help you, to show you that someone cares while the whole world you are surrounded by seems to be jumping down your throat. The mere presence of a chaplain is to suggest that there is help for emotional times, a counselor in need, a built in friend. However, in recent decades religious practice has declined among regular soldiers and Marines, seamen and airmen. Perhaps the presence of a chaplain seems odder or even provocative to many of the younger Millenials of the 21st century; perhaps the religious faith chaplain of the 1950s would be better served by a secular psychological counselor, a health professional trained without the formal religious antecedents. To an ever growing secular world this makes sense. I could see that.

    Conclusion

   From the times that I have been around chaplains it has been good; I have been taught by some about Islam in an official instructional capacity, or I have been part of their Bible or other liturgical services; I have felt that they have played a good role in the well being for me in conversations and associations. But this from a guy who originally considered joining the military to be a chaplain. So maybe call me an easy audience, some reaffirming preaching to the choir. Although to others, a bigger majority of the military that I have been around in the 21st century during years of deployment and combat, I would probably say they have received not so much benefit, for many I know. Some may surprise me and tell of past times of consolation from such officers.
  
   Have chaplains made a difference for the better in the military? For me, yes. For the overall effort? I hope so. This is a non-conclusive assessment, and I also must say that even when I have been employed in temporary military duties, I do not see chaplains for many periods of time, therefore it seems that maybe they are not reaching all that they could or should. Maybe there is an overall lack, as was communicated by my church back in 2004.

   We all know there is no magic solution to lack of resources, there is always limited personnel when it comes to facing danger, both physical and moral like in cases of war. Peacemakers among war-makers, there is no easy answer to the correct combination.

    Perhaps none of it makes much sense, and some servicemen use parts of their military time to justify their melancholy and anger to reach the untenable conclusion of self-destruction. Perhaps life and conflict lead to such uneasy developments. I don't know.

   At the end of the day, if a chaplain can lift the spirits of fellow soldiers who are suffering, can simply offer a moment of respite to those who are overwhelmed or miserable, can perhaps provide a taste of divine grace or mercy, perhaps that is the only thing that any warrior who feels the weight of death and loss, and isolation or alienation, and the endless pounding of fruitless acts can hope for.

    And the cause marches on, God in it or not. Someone is watching, someone cares and wishes to uplift and console, whether you believe it or not.

Just Thinking

     I had just taken a bite of my homemade lunch pastrami sandwich with tart mustard; it was maybe 12:30 pm one mostly sunny day, a Wednesday or a Thursday; I was at work thinking about work and my kid's soccer games; I suddenly remembered that I had been really ethnocentric the last 12 years.

Yeah, me. Ethnocentric. Thinking, believing, not even considering for long periods of time that other people had a chance at being right in the ways that they thought and acted, that only my culture was right, the correctly appointed way to live in the 21st century or maybe for all time, the proper way to think, the proper way to spend, the proper way to vote, and of course due course in going to war. Whether you were for the war or against it, we as Americans were the arbiters of our own military fate: we consult ourselves. Others? Good luck.

I hadn't always been ethnocentric. There were times in my life before, past decades, when I saw how South Americans thought that their posture was prime, and possibly it was.

For twelve years since thinking for sure the United States was the absolutely best thing, or even the only legitimate thing, on earth, or the known universe (even though I spent time pining for the sports that I missed back in the US of A). There was a bit of time in 2005 where I considered alternatives. Places and ideas different than my native home of America were thrust upon me.

So, maybe some people or whole cultures in South America could be better.

Or Europe.

Certainly Western Europe. There are eastern Europeans who are confident that they have better values, history, background precedents.

Asian societies? There are many. For those with religious proclivities, the Holy Lands of Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and others offer their cultural gifts, which provide their ethnocentric worldviews. Within Christianity and Judaism and other derivative sects there are sacred and consecrated places, with their own mini-cultures, of which many from all lands in the 21st century ensconce themselves within these ethno-centered universes of belief and practice.

Western Hemisphere, Oceania, swaths of Africa, all have their peoples with beliefs that they are the ones that have the answers to earth's needs and problems. At least they are convinced for themselves, maybe not for everyone else.

Like certain Americans. We the Best. We the Chosen.

We the Mighty. Might makes the ethnocentric more assured, that's for sure.

The macro-culture of the earth is a US based, or Western-based reality, steeped in socio-political self-assurance, military-economic strength and control, and documented and rule of law regulated constitutions and agreements making all well.

Ethnocentrism is in. For those who can make it work.

It has been working for me. And a few billion others.

At least flowing through my veins and synapses for years at a time.

OK sure, there may have been some brief analyses on my part of other cultures, beliefs, and possible answers in other forms in the last twelve years. But they were categorically dismissed out of turn.

That is what ethnocentrists do.

Welcome to the club. Does this mean you?

It probably does. And you might be right in your staunch ethnocentrism; we might be right to be ethnocentric. We might be the best thing there is. Then again, things can change.

But you don't always have to think so, that our way is the way. You might consider some other options.

Just thinking. That is probably a good thing.