Category Archives: Quandaries and Rants

Who Was Marjory Stoneman Douglas, and Why Does It Matter?

Who Was Marjory Stoneman Douglas, and Why Does It Matter?                                                              —by Jinny Batterson

After the Valentine’s Day mass shooting at a high school in south Florida, I listened to some of the early news reports. Of course, there was outrage at the taking of seventeen lives, fourteen of them students at the school. There was the customary soul-searching and hand-wringing over supposed reasons for the violence that once again had erupted in our midst.

Then I partially tuned out. I wrote yet another set of letters and messages to my NRA-indebted U.S. Senators. I commiserated with family and friends. I tried to focus mainly on small, more localized projects where I could make a positive difference.

While I tried to process this latest affront to human dignity, somewhere in the back of my mind, the name Marjory Stoneman Douglas rang a bell. Most high schools are named either geographically, or for some local educator or political figure. Why, then, did this woman’s name seem somehow familiar?  After a while, I checked the internet for a biography of Ms. Stoneman Douglas. First I noticed a picture of an aged woman in a brimmed hat, holding a cat on her lap. Skimming the accompanying text, I found that Marjory had been born in 1890, an only child of a marriage that unraveled when she was six. She spent much of her childhood under the stern tutelage of her mother’s parents in Taunton, Massachusetts. As she grew up, her mother’s mental and physical health deteriorated, leading to several institutionalizations, then a death due to metastatic breast cancer shortly after Marjory graduated from college. 

Always an avid reader, Marjory began writing for publication in her teens. After a brief tumultuous marriage, Marjory moved to Florida in 1915 and worked for several years at her father’s newspaper, which eventually became the Miami Herald. Over time, she established a career as a free-lance writer, penning over 100 articles and short stories, several novels, as well as the non-faction account The Everglades: River of Grass, first published in 1947.

Now the connection clicked—I’d spent a couple of vacations exploring parts of Everglades National Park, including the Marjorie Stoneman Douglas Wilderness Area. I read further into her biography. In later life, Douglas became a tireless advocate for preservation of the Everglades, earning several awards, plus the enmity of some agricultural and real estate developers. She turned 100 the year Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School opened, and lived for eight more years, continuing to write and speak about the need for good environmental stewardship. According to a local journalist who’d interviewed Stoneman Douglas several times, “She had a tongue like a switchblade and the moral authority to embarrass bureaucrats and politicians and make things happen.”

I applaud the ongoing efforts by student survivors at the school named in her honor to reimagine our national obsession with guns. I’ve heard that some of their fundraising appeals contain variations of this Stoneman Douglas quote: “Be a nuisance where it counts; Do your part to inform and stimulate the public to join your action. Be depressed, discouraged, and disappointed at failure and the disheartening effects of ignorance, greed, corruption and bad politics—but never give up.”  She didn’t give up. Neither can we. 

         

The Other One Percent: Puerto Rico

The Other One Percent: Puerto Rico     —by Jinny Batterson

Like many mainland Americans, I’ve been watching a fair amount of television reporting these days about the unfolding humanitarian tragedy in Puerto Rico in the wake of hurricanes Irma and Maria. Nearly all the island’s electric, transportation, and communications infrastructure was decimated by the back-to-back hurricanes. Maria was the strongest hurricane to hit Puerto Rico in nearly a century, and pummeled the island only thirteen days after a lesser blow from Irma had disrupted power for up to a million residents. 

The news coverage sent me to the Internet to try to get some additional background on factors that contributed to this disaster impacting the estimated 3.4 million Puerto Ricans—about 1% of the total U.S. population.

Of course, the immediate causes are the hurricanes themselves—two of the most powerful storms ever seen over land. But there is also a backstory of decades of neglect, indifference, and discrimination that contributed. It seems somewhat cruel in the current circumstances to note that 2017 marks the centennial of Puerto Ricans’ American citizenship—on March 2, 1917, President Woodrow Wilson signed the Jones-Shafroth Act, establishing limited U.S. citizenship for all islanders born during or after 1898, when the island was acquired by the United States at the conclusion of the Spanish-American War.

At the time of the U.S. takeover, Puerto Rico was primarily an agricultural economy. Its principal exports were coffee and sugar. That began to change after World War II. In 1950, the U.S. initiated an “operation bootstrap” program to encourage industrialization and economic growth, and for a while the economy boomed.  Puerto Rico’s economy began a long-term decline in the late 1990’s after a change in the U.S. tax code phased out a provision that had allowed mainland-based companies to avoid corporate taxes on profits made in U.S. territories, including Puerto Rico. During the decade of 1996-2006, as the phase-out program took effect, manufacturing jobs declined from about 160,000 to about 110,000. More and more Puerto Ricans left for the mainland, where job prospects might be better. By 2016, over 4.6 million Puerto Ricans resided on the mainland, with the greatest concentrations in metropolitan New York City and in Florida.     

Politically, Puerto Rico chafed under near-colonial rule that seesawed between periods of development support by mainland politicians and periods of repression. Successive votes by islanders to change their status generally supported some variation of the status quo until 2012, when a majority of islanders voted to become a state. The referendum was controversial—opponents had tried to get people to abstain from voting altogether and later argued that the vote was invalid.

Once immediate crises ease and redevelopment plans begin to be developed, it might be wise to consult extensively with this “other 1%” to learn what Puerto Ricans, those with the most at stake, want their still-proud island to become.    

White Privilege, the Capacity to Leave, and the World’s Changing Games

As our nation veers closer and closer to fascism, I’m dismayed and unbalanced. How did we come to this point, I ask myself? How was I complicit? How can we as a society rebalance? 

As a “leading edge boomer white female,” I’ve followed a similar trajectory to that of many liberal-leaning members of my cohort: protesting the Vietnam war; attending Earth Days; joining various consciousness-raising groups; experimenting briefly with consciousness-altering substances; absorbing uplifting books, films and workshops about human possibilities; doing a Peace Corps stint in sub-Saharan Africa; later, in semi-retirement, doing shorter volunteer or low-paid assignments teaching English in rural China.

Where I may have diverged from classmates who moved to the suburbs, raised families, and enrolled their children in “superior” school systems, is that for over twenty years, I lived in America’s core cities. The neighborhoods where I settled were “marginal,” working class, multi-racial. At first, this was an economic necessity—my twenty-somethings were littered with lots of employment mis-steps and accidents. Rents and mortgage payments were lower in areas that had been written off by most of the real estate establishment. But I stayed. Partly this was a semi-conscious effort to atone for some slaveholding ancestors who conferred on me an undeserved inherited advantage. Later, it was partly to help prepare our children for a global society with no single dominant group. As I got to know my neighbors better, my staying got to be more and more about their kind and forgiving natures, and their partial immunity to the materialism I saw so much of elsewhere. I chose to be a visible “minority” presence. And there’s the rub.

The neighbors who surrounded me in inner city Baltimore or inner city Richmond had fewer options for leaving than I did. Legal discrimination, or, increasingly, lack of income or of inherited wealth, made it difficult or impossible for them to afford housing in “better” areas. When I lived in Burundi and visited with peasant families in Burundi and Rwanda, most had little chance for schooling beyond the most elementary levels, in crowded, under-equipped classrooms. Few could travel, either in their own countries or abroad. Their prospects for improving their lot in life were terribly limited. In high schools or agricultural colleges where I taught English in China, students were not likely to be able to use their skills—after graduation, most would work long hours at soul-destroying jobs in big cities. They might at best be able to show off for their parents or grandparents on holiday visits back home.

By contrast, I could take time away from Baltimore or Richmond to recharge at a summer cabin by a pristine lake in Vermont. When sub-Saharan Africa got too depressing, I could join my family on extended holiday in Europe. In China, I spent a winter break at a posh beach resort, a summer interval being escorted by a high-ranking official around the historic sights of Beijing.

The world I grew up in is changing at ever-increasing speed. Within the U.S., we are becoming more immigrant, more “non-white,” more interethnic than ever. Globally, we’ve expanded travel and communications by orders of magnitude. However, we’re also changing our earth’s atmosphere and oceans in ways that will make life less predictable and probably more difficult for all living creatures. Movie fantasies aside, precious few of us have the wealth and/or training to be able to leave the planet and survive. This changes the game, even for those of us with privilege.

The new game requires me and others with privileges conferred by birth, inheritance, skill and/or luck to practice “not leaving.” Of course, I will still need to protest injustices, to improve my environmental stewardship, to raise my awareness, to celebrate human possibilities. But I will need to do more. Even in situations that make me uncomfortable or defensive, I will need to remain fully present, and then to listen, deeply. I will need to practice staying, and staying, and staying. I can no longer afford not to.

Twitter Fodder

Twitter Fodder    —by Jinny Batterson

I don’t have a Twitter account, nor am I ever likely to. I’m too wordy to accept that much that’s worth saying can fit into just 140 (or even 280) characters.  So I was somewhat surprised the other morning when I awoke after a good night’s sleep to find a Twitter-length snippet pushing its way into my journal: 

If you play only zero-sum games, you’re likely to wind up a big fat zero.

Fewer than 100 characters, even including a couple of adjectives that could, if need be, be left out. Few big words, except maybe “zero-sum,” a shorthand way of explaining the attitude that for me to win, you have to lose an equal amount from a fixed total, with no room for sharing or “win-win” solutions. “Big fat zero” may be slightly old-fashioned, but familiar as a taunt to anyone who’s ever spent time on an elementary school playground.

 What did it mean for me to have such a short saying barging into my thoughts, and maybe even my writing?  After a bit, a memory surfaced. I was back at our public high school, in my favorite teacher’s French class. Mrs. Nash didn’t so much teach French as she taught life. One of her favorite tools was a series of aphorisms, or short sayings, attributed to historical French writers. The discussion I remember best centered around a pithy quote by philosopher Charles-Louis de Montesquieu, who lived in France starting in the late 17th century. He wrote a lot about the conditions and rights of man. He is credited with having said:

Every man has his price.

As Mrs. Nash guided the conversation, we fairly quickly broadened our definition of “price” to include things other than a monetary sum or material item. Suppose the price involved our being embarrassed or made very uncomfortable? What about sacrificing our health? Suppose the price meant having a loved one put in danger? What if it demanded that we give up cherished ideas or principles? Suppose the price pitted short-term gain against long-term survival?

We never resolved the issue. Later discussions, in Mrs. Nash’s class and elsewhere, were based on a cross-section of similar sayings, not all of them by French authors:

What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?
People who know little are usually great talkers, while men who know much say little.
(Jean-Jacques Rousseau, 1712-1778) 

No society can be flourishing and happy, of which the far greater part of the members are poor and miserable.
Science is the great antidote to the poison of enthusiasm and superstition.
(Adam Smith, 1723-1790) 

No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.
(Mary Wollstonecraft, 1759-1797)         

He who knows only his own side of the case, knows little of that.
(John Stuart Mill, 1806-1873) 

It gradually dawned on me that these “aphorisms” were the “tweets” of their times, considerably wiser than the 72 characters that had descended on me, or, I’m guessing, much else that gets posted on Twitter these days. 

As many of our online civic discussions continue to deteriorate into name-calling and evermore selective choice of facts, I’m sometimes tempted to despair. But I know that despair never changes anything for the better.  So I take frequent breaks to slow down and collect my thoughts, grateful to have this luxury at the current stage of my life. Not all do. However, all of us have time to take a deep breath. We can all briefly turn off or tune out the many distractions of our increasingly distracted society.  We all can imagine a place and time when we felt safe and cared for.  From deep within this setting of safety and love comes an important insight, one I heard verbalized long ago at a spirituality conference and have carried around inside ever since. It’s so short it could easily fit into a standard tweet:  

Pay attention to what has heart and meaning.

The Myth of Objectivity: Choosing our Facts

This fall’s election season left me both physically and emotionally exhausted. In October, as attack advertising on all sides escalated and early voting started, I finalized plans to visit extended family on the west coast shortly after the election was over. It seemed a good way to regain some longer term perspective—the two generations that come after me would help me regain balance.

Now that I’m in sunny California, we’ve mostly avoided talking politics. I’m sure we don’t agree on everything. Avoiding hasty words is an antidote for having to take them back later. The grandkids are cute, and generally uninterested in grown-up concerns.

However, I haven’t escaped political repartee entirely.  My first Sunday here, I was sitting under a shade tree, watching the kids play as the awards ceremony for our son’s final cross country race of the season droned on. A man also watching from nearby piped up with unsolicited advice: several of the kids were playing in a way that might result in injury, he said. A friend of his had had a dangerous fall and lost an eye. I thanked him, mentioned his concern to the kids, asking them to be a little more careful, and thought that would be the end of our interaction. No such luck. 

“What do you think about the results of the election?”  he inquired.

“I’m not too happy,” I responded. “I would have preferred that the other presidential candidate had won.” 

“How could anyone support someone who violated the first tenet of public service?” he jibed. “I was in the Coast Guard. If I had sent classified information over a private email server, I’d forever have been disqualified from further service, let alone from becoming Commander in Chief.” 

Not wanting to get further enmeshed in a discussion that didn’t seem likely to have any positive result, I tried for more neutral ground.

  “Neither candidate was all that appealing,” I ventured. “I didn’t like the way Mr. Trump repeatedly insulted all sorts of people.” 

“Most of that was just bluster,” he responded. “After all, Trump is a brash New Yorker. Still, he has valid points. For example, there are over 750,000 illegal immigrants in New York City alone. That makes more than 10% of the population. They’re taking up housing that should be available to those of us who were born here or came here legally.”

Succumbing to continuing a conversation that I was pretty sure would end badly, I responded, “In the part of the country where I live, immigrant labor harvests nearly all of the crops. We need those workers.”

“Ha!” he said. “There was a time, during World War II, when there was a shortage of local workers for harvesting because so many American men were serving overseas, so immigrants were allowed in. However, once the war was over, Eisenhower sent them all back where they came from.”    

‘Look,” I said, “it seems that you and I view very different parts of reality. I respect your perspective, but I can’t agree with it.”

“Lady,” he said, “you’re entitled to choose your opinions, but you cannot choose your facts.”  With that, he strode off, triumphant. 

Not one gifted in coming up with snappy responses, I later did a bit of further research. Estimates of illegal immigrants/undocumented workers in New York vary widely, with the high-end 750,000 figure most likely coming from an online 2015  post by conservative-leaning publisher Newsmax. Every article about immigration has an editorial slant, explicit or implied—emphasizing either the costs or the contributions of this section of the American population. Some sources stress the need to keep families together, the need for skilled workers, or the aging of the U.S.’s native-born population. Others emphasize the need to reserve jobs/housing/advancement opportunities for the native-born. During the presidential transition, immigration remains a hot-button issue. 

I don’t have a pat answer. I’m not hopeful that our national immigration policies will become either more sensible or more humane for the near-term future. However, I believe that there is a way toward consensus in our nation of immigrants.  As recently as 2013, the U.S. Senate managed to pass a comprehensive immigration reform bill,  S.744, with a substantial bi-partisan majority.  No comparable bill has so far passed the House of Representatives.

To further chances for reform, I believe we’ll need to listen to each other’s stories more deeply. We’ll need to broaden our array of “facts” beyond the mostly biased reporting we’re being subjected to on all sides.

To get a more general view, I turned to a different Internet site and searched for TED talks about “search engines.” I found the following brief talk by Swedish journalist Andreas Ekstrom—“The moral bias behind your search results.”  (http://www.ted.com/talks/andreas_ekstrom_the_moral_bias_behind_your_search_results/transcript?language=en)  

Ekstrom uses two examples of image search results that got temporarily distorted by massive bias: the first, a 2009 derogatory representation of Michelle Obama, was quickly removed by Google; the second, an equally derogatory 2011 representation of mass murderer Anders Breivik, was allowed to continue until it died out on its own. Ekstrom concludes: “And I (emphasize) this because I believe we’ve reached a point in time when it’s absolutely imperative … to remind (ourselves) that that wonderfully seductive idea of the unbiased, clean search result is, and is likely to remain, a myth.” 

Let’s choose our “facts” carefully.      

Practicing Gestational Politics

Now that we have apparently elected
a prime verbal ejaculator
to be our putative leader,
it will not do to turn our
hurt and anger inward,
nor will it suffice to cry
out in rage and disgust.

What we must do
instead is to take a short respite,
then to return with renewed dedication
to building bridges across the chasms of race,
class, gender, urban/rural, national origin, affection
that this retrograde campaign has opened up.
We must nurture ourselves, along with
the next generations of humans
and of other creatures
on this lovely planet.

Other Things Some Older People are Thinking and Need to Say Out Loud

This spring, as the U.S. 2016 presidential campaign began heating up, I came across an interview with the daughter of former third party presidential candidate George Wallace of Alabama, most famously noted for having said in 1963, “Segregation now. Segregation tomorrow, and segregation forever.” In late April, Peggy Wallace Kennedy suggested as part of a radio interview that the 1968 third party presidential candidacy of her late father has echoes in the current campaign.

“Trump and my father say out loud what others are thinking but don’t have the courage to say. They both were able to adopt the notion that fear and hate are the two greatest motivators of voters that feel alienated from government,” she remarked.  Much of what Mr. Trump has had to say so far strikes me as racist, xenophobic, misogynistic, jingoistic, reactionary, or all of the above.

It occurs to me on the eve of the 2016 political conventions that both this year’s major party presumptive nominees are my close contemporaries—we are “leading edge boomers,” over a decade older than our current president. Donald Trump (born in June, 1946) and Hillary Clinton (born in October, 1947) are within a year of my age. So here are a few things that I remember from our mutual early adulthoods in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, compared with our current situation. Candidates may remember them, too, even though they are generally not saying them out loud.

Work: In 1970, about 80 percent of working age men were in the paid labor force, nearly twice the rate of working age women. Since then, that gap has declined significantly. It’s estimated that by 2020, the proportions will be roughly 70% for men and 60% for women. The gender pay gap has also declined, though women’s wages have yet to reach parity with men’s for comparable jobs—an estimate in 2015 put women’s average earnings, across all occupations and wage levels, at roughly 82% of men’s. Wages for all workers, adjusted for inflation, have stagnated since the mid-1970’s.

The number of American manufacturing jobs peaked in 1979, when roughly 19.5 million workers were employed in the manufacturing sector. In 2016, roughly 12.3 million Americans (about 8% of the overall labor force) work in manufacturing. Some manufacturing job losses are the result of outsourcing to lower wage countries; many previous manufacturing jobs have been automated out of existence.

Some segments of the economy, dominant in earlier phases of American history, were at much lower levels by 2014, according to labor statistics: agriculture/forestry/fishing employed less than 1.5% of the workforce; construction accounted for just over 4%; mining only about half a percent. The fastest growing sector is health care/social assistance, which now accounts for about 12% of the labor force.  Professional/business services jobs (12.7%) are also increasing rapidly.

Immigration: The proportion of foreign-born residents in the American population hit an all-time low at the 1970 census. Just 4.7% of Americans then were foreign born.  Both numbers and proportions of foreign-born legal U.S. residents have increased dramatically since then, reaching an estimated 13.3% in 2014. The number of additional undocumented residents is in the range of 10 to 12 million, with an immigration system that nearly all agree is badly flawed.

Military: A military draft in force from 1948 through 1973 affected men aged 19 through 26.  In 1969 and 1970, during the height of U.S. involvement in Vietnam, about half a million Americans served in that country each year, many of them draftees. In late 1969, a birthday-related draft lottery was reinitiated to reduce the uncertainty for eligible young men. With about 850,000 potential draftees to be called up starting in 1970, those with low lottery numbers would be nearly certain to get drafted, while those with high numbers could resume their lives free of worry about military conscription. The draft was ended in 1973.

Active duty military personnel declined in numbers and as a proportion of the population as the Vietnam War and later the Cold War wound down. The post-World-War-II number of U.S. soldiers peaked in 1968 at about 3.5 million. Its current level is about 1.35 million, or less than half a percent of the total U.S. population. About 150,000 troops are stationed outside the U.S.

Some other areas in which substantial changes have occurred since the late 1960’s: Race Relations: major urban riots in 110 U.S. cities following the 1968 assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. led to better, if sometimes spotty, enforcement of the1964 Civil Rights Act and 1965 Voting Rights Act; increasing numbers of minority voters and elected officials;  Environment: major periodic oil spills; Earth Day; establishment of the Environmental Protection Agency; recognition of global climate change as an issue; Women’s Rights: the Equal Rights Amendment debate; affirmation via the 1973 Roe V. Wade Supreme Court decision of a woman’s right, within limits, to choose whether or not to terminate a pregnancy; Media: from 3 commercial networks plus PBS and NPR to an Internet-laced selection of nearly infinite numbers of channels and viewpoints, many of them unsubstantiated; Political Culture:  increasing frustration with widening wealth and income gaps; lessening civility; splintering of some conventional voting blocs; extensive gerrymandering and attempts at voter suppression.

I’ll likely watch some coverage of both conventions, listening closely to what candidates actually have to say. Improvements in Americans’ lives since I was young have been substantial, but uneven, with periodic backsliding. Much more can be done, but it’s unlikely to take place in an atmosphere of fear and hatred. Much will depend not on the candidates, but on citizens’ willingness to stay engaged, informed, and civil. 

Toward a New Consensus: Voting Thumbs Side

Most Americans these days are subjected to increasingly agitated media and political environments—uneasiness about the state of our personal finances and national budgets, evidence of ethnic and racial profiling, demonstrations and counter-demonstrations, terrorism fears, an American presidential contest replete with name-calling and innuendo. A cheery attitude seems somewhat out of place. Still, I keep looking for glimmers of an emerging new consensus, both locally and beyond my geographical area. 

During the late 1970’s, I was exposed to the human potential movement. In intensive workshops, I completed solo, two-person, and group exercises to better understand what motivated me, and what might motivate all of us attendees to interact more humanely and productively with each other. One impression that has stuck with me is that individuals and groups typically exhibit agitated behavior just before transitioning to a different level of organization.

A decade later, I attended an experiential simulation of a five phase change model based on the work of family therapist Virginia Satir: 1) original, decaying status quo; 2) introduction of a “foreign element” that generates resistance; 3) chaos, resulting in a transformative understanding; 4) practice and integration of new learnings, leading to—5) a different status quo. None of us participants wanted to go through the chaos phase. Yet, as the simulation progressed, we each came to recognize that passing through chaos was the only way to transform a system that no longer worked for us, to move toward a newer, generally more inclusive state.       

About the same time, I started attending an annual week-long “un-conference” with other small-scale consultants at “consultants’ camp.”  A decade into the camp experience, an initial phase of “top down” camp leadership ended, and our group went through chaos to evolve an alternate model. Part of the revised model consisted of a single annual morning session to tend to the nurture and future of the camp community through consensus decision making.

One of the most important features in the consensus model we adopted is an open system of thumbs up/thumbs side/thumbs down voting to validate any proposal. Approval requires a strong consensus from all community members—a single “thumbs down” vote defeats a motion. However, because it is highly unlikely that any proposition will be equally pleasing to the whole community, we include a “thumbs side” option. Voting thumbs side is much more participatory than abstaining. While a “thumbs up” indicates enthusiastic support of a proposal, a “thumbs side” shows that the proposal being voted on is not the voter’s first choice, maybe even not his/her fifth or sixth.  However, by voting “thumbs side,”  the voter shows a willingness to abide by the choice of others voting either thumbs up or also thumbs side. A thumbs side voter agrees to support the proposal, if enacted, and to avoid actions that might undermine its implementation. No gossiping, no backbiting, no second-guessing, no requests for reconsideration until the succeeding year’s camp session. This kind of consensus decision-making requires much time, effort, and goodwill among participants, but it seems to generate better long-term decisions and stronger group cohesion. 

The model for our smallish camp (typically 25-35 members) likely does not scale up to broader political discourse. However, other efforts are underway in lots of places to re-establish civil discourse and downplay strictly “either/or” choices. For example, an Institute for Emerging Issues headquartered near where I used to live in central North Carolina focussed one year on the future of work, trying to come up with long-term strategies to enable North Carolinians to earn living wages in the face of continuing automation and globalization. Localities throughout the world can now organize TEDx conferences to bring together people and “ideas worth spreading,” using a template developed by the evolving non-profit, TED (Technology, Entertainment, Design).  So I remain hopeful, I keep the television mainly off, and I practice strengthening my “thumb side” muscles.         

Public-Private Partnerships

Lately, while visiting extended family in a faraway city, I had several occasions when I didn’t have easy access to a car. Busses were a viable alternative.  The other folks riding seemed a fairly diverse bunch, tending toward the lower end of the economic scale—not people I’d typically have met while car-enabled. I was nervous at first, but it turned out that one of my bus experiences included a couple of examples of exemplary public service by one particular bus driver.

As I waited at a regional transit mall for the second bus ride of my day, I was annoyed by the high-volume conversation being carried on on her cell phone by another potential passenger.  As a “digital immigrant,” part of the not-quite-doddering generation who grew up without personal computers or cell phones, I am bemused by the amount of personal information that now gets shared in public airspace. “Miss Garrulous,” who looked to be about 20, was explaining in great detail to her cell phone conversation partner why she was considering breaking up with her current boyfriend. I tried to tune out her most explicit remarks.

Finally our bus prepared for departure. The driver motioned us onto his bus. A slightly less voluble middle-aged man got on, along with me, Miss Garrulous, and several other passengers. Miss Garrulous interrupted her conversation just long enough to put her bicycle onto the carrying rack attached to the front of the bus. As the bus began to move, the middle-aged man rushed back to the front of the bus and requested that the driver wait for just a minute. Rather than stick to his official schedule, the driver assented. The man made a hurried exit-reentry after retrieving his cell phone, which he’d nearly left on a transit mall bench.

From the back of the bus, Miss Garrulous continued her non-stop description of past and present boyfriends, trysts, and parties.  Several stops before I planned to get off, she pulled the “stop request” cord. What a relief!  Shortly after her departure, just as the bus was starting up again, the driver pulled on his brake and flashers and hurriedly exited, yelling “Miss, wait!” very loudly.  It turned out that Miss Garrulous had gotten so involved in her conversation that she’d forgotten to retrieve her bicycle.

Bus drivers don’t get extra pay for shepherding the personal belongings of distracted passengers. I was impressed by the care this driver took of his temporary charges.

My favorite recent example of public service comes from “outside the bus.”  The suburban town where I live hires school crossing guards at some of its elementary schools. Their hours are short; their pay is low; their outdoor working conditions are varied and unpredictable. One particular school sits beside a busy commuter route where the flow of car traffic is heavy and the number of schoolchildren needing to cross is relatively light. I’ve sometimes needed to go that way about the time school starts or lets out. After several trips, I began to notice a particular crossing guard: an older, somewhat heavyset man with a grizzled beard. He had created a friendly mini-environment for himself, bringing to his work site a collapsible padded chair to rest on when no children were crossing. Rather than just sitting there, though, he’d smile broadly and wave at each passing car. The commuting congestion was much less bothersome along this route past “Mr. Sunny.”

It seems to me that there is no ideal mix of “public” and “private” any more. Perhaps there never has been. Still, I wonder if we would be wise to celebrate more consistently the small extra services that occur in our public sphere.  A slight schedule slip, a “Miss, wait!,” or a smile and a wave, may not appear on any financial balance sheet, but they are still worth plenty.