Survival Skills: The Lost Art of Self-reliance

The backbone of America has always been the courage and indomitable determination of its people, no more so than in the wide-eyed enthusiasm and optimism of our youth.

But something has changed. Something fundamentally dangerous has weakened the latest generations. Not all mind you, but an increasingly significant number have no intestinal fortitude.

tire

Some of the signs have been with us for a bit of time.

Handing out trophies for 9th place in a 9-team league.

Mercy rules to control the margin of victory (actually to anesthetize the pain of losing.)

The need for warnings about trigger words or safe zones where no one need be offended by, well, anything.

It is from the whirlwind of our disagreements that our best solutions arise. We chose to ignore this because somebody’s feelings may be hurt when we point out they are whining idiots.

Nothing better illustrates the “sissifying” (oops, trigger word warning, politically inappropriate term for those who lack self-respect or backbone)  of America than a commercial on various TV channels.

Two young men stand at the side of the road next to a disabled car. The car has a flat tire. One young man is on the phone with his father listening as the father explains their insurance company doesn’t have roadside assistance. Between the two men, they don’t know what a lug wrench is.

The father, instead of whining about the insurance company, should be teaching his son how to change a damn tire. I mean, you put the kid in charge of a several thousand pound mobile projectile lacking even rudimentary skills to perform such a simple task? It borders on child abuse.

We have raised a generation of illiterate and dependent mice on which rests the future of the country.

Frightening.

And then there’s the bullying phenomenon. It is as if bullies are a new invention no other generation ever faced. It’s not. Life is not fair. Get over it. I know I’ll hear from those who have some perceived example of extreme bullying, but I have an answer.

I honestly think this nonsense all began when parents switched sides in schools and adopted the mantra of not my kid, turning teachers into the enemy. If we once again gave teachers the latitude and respect they deserve, things might change. With our renewed support to let teachers quickly and forcefully address bad behavior, instead of looking for some external factor to blame, it would pay dividends in the future.

Instead, some parents blame teachers for the poor performance of their kids without making the least effort to support the teacher’s efforts at home.  Your child’s education is not something you order online; it is something you participate in and reinforce.  If your kids are failing it is not due solely to the teachers.

At the high school I attended, Cumberland High School in Rhode Island, there was a legendary teacher named J. Richard Charland.  He taught a business course and was the Dean of Students. The title Dean of Students is a kinder and gentler way of saying head disciplinarian.

When you were there, you lived in fear of crossing him. He would often tell us that he had spoken to our parents and they gave him permission to knock us around if we got out of line. Whether it was true or not, most of us believed it.

Some had it demonstrated.

Mr. Charland recently passed away and the universal outpouring of admiration and respect from several decades of CHS graduates (and even a few who may have had a shortened high school career) was telling. He made a difference and helped steer generations of CHS grads towards being better adults.

His reputation was built on a demand for mutual respect and underlying love of students. He dealt with those incidents that inevitably arise in the hormone-ravaged teenaged years firmly, swiftly, and appropriately.

No one sued the school when they addressed problems. No one blamed teachers for bad grades. No one looked to some psychological excuse for bad behavior.

I wonder if we can ever reclaim the courage, heart, and endurance that built this country if we have generations who lack fundamental respect for teachers, basic math or literacy skills, or can’t even change a tire?

Please don’t bully me or say things that may trigger my anxiety.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T

I always open doors for women and, now that I think of it, sometimes men as well, when warranted but less often.

I always give up my seat, actually it’s beyond that, I am uncomfortable sitting, when a woman is standing.

I am not a car guy, I change oil by driving to the dealership. I love my six-speed (Yes, standard, I do have some testosterone left) Nissan Versa (Ok maybe not much) EXCEPT for the fact that it is only unlocked by a key, on the driver’s side.

This forces me to be on the OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE CAR from my wife, or daughter. My brain is screaming at me “I AM SUPPOSED TO OPEN HER DOOR, I am on the WRONG SIDE, I hope my mother isn’t watching (she’s been dead a few years and I don’t buy into her riding on a cloud looking down nonsense, but nevertheless) THIS ISN’T RIGHT”.

Always has been, always will be.

No matter the lack of logic, it just is.

I am uncomfortable if, while sitting, I offer my seat and a woman declines.

I cannot relax.

So we both stand.

I model my initial impressions of those that have been my daughter’s dates by whether they open the car door for her.

I want to punch a male that throws open the door and walks in, ignoring, almost daring, the person (in particular a woman) behind them, to complain.

I cringe when I see anyone, but in particular a woman, loading groceries into the car as I watch a male, open his own door, and get in.

If he gets in the passenger side it is all I can do to stop myself from gunning him down.

I know, I know stereotypes and prejudices.

I cannot help myself.

I always thought of my deferring to women a sign of respect, and an indication of the quality of my upbringing.

I wonder now, if by opening all those doors, relinquishing all those seats, deferring to others for those crowded elevators, carrying those bags, retrieving that overhead luggage, giving up the last serving…….and myriad of other things my brain compels me to do,

I wonder if all those well-intentioned, ingrained, what I considered respectful, actions contributed, promulgated, and furthered the continuation of subjugating women.

I fear I have been an unwitting accomplice diminishing the female gender’s place in this world by the unnecessary, detrimental, albeit well-intentioned, continuation of archaic practices.

In spite of my believing it to be a sign of “respect” for women.

There is only a semantic difference between opening doors or surrendering a seat and requiring burkas, denying driving licenses, or prohibiting being in public without a related male escort.

Despite the protestations that these are efforts intended to protect women, to respect them.

Protect them from who, or what?

It is really a well-crafted spin on the true intent, controlling them.

From now on I will still hold doors open, give up my seat, defer to others, not because they are female, but because it’s a symbol of our shared respect for each other.

I will do it for anyone, regardless of gender, and accept those gestures offered to me.

I will learn to accept the fact that they may prefer to stand.

That, while they appreciate the offer, they are okay with me sitting.

I will try to embrace this brave new world.

I have one final question

How is putting women in what is essentially a head to toe “bagger” showing respect?

Isn’t it actually a cruel sexist joke?

A body bag for the living?

They can’t all be that aesthetically challenged.

If they are, that might explain flying a plane into a building.

I have a more optimistic outlook.

I believe it likely those faces, underneath the “Body bags”, watching the images of planes into buildings, are smiling.

And crying.

Joy, horror, and relief.

We are protecting them from ourselves.