Mark: My Words

Blessed is Nothing

It was the one place I dreaded to enter– the “place that shall not be named” – the a-t-t-i-c. Our move to Iowa was fast approaching and Tammy continued to remind me that we needed to do this, but I would conveniently find another important task to occupy my time. After all, it was too hot up there, right? And we didn’t have enough bags and boxes on hand to complete the task. That’s it. We just weren’t adequately prepared. We’ll do it next weekend. Despite my brilliant tactical approach to procrastination, the day of reckoning finally came and into the attic we climbed.

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A Look in the Mirror

I had been in pain long enough. Multiple knee injuries (ACL, left knee) complicated by years of wear and tear were causing too much pain. The orthopedic surgeon entered the examination room to review the results of x-rays and an MRI. We were there to discuss options. He was blunt. “We don’t usually operate on people as old as you.” I was stunned, and for a moment I wanted to be an 18-year-old again and say, “Dude! Have you looked in the mirror recently? You’re like 70, and I’m too old?” That was more than five years ago and the surgery was a great success – despite my advanced age.

I also had the recent experience of hearing some members of my extended family describe how much I remind them of my maternal grandfather. Apparently the way I walk and some of my physical characteristics offer quite a resemblance. He died when I was in preschool, so I never really knew him. Just a few faint memories remain with me. I was honored to hear this since I know how much he is admired in my family, until it dawned on me that I was being told, “You look like your grandfather!” Maybe a few more sit-ups will help. And I’ve seen Rogaine sold in large containers. Does it come in a 55-gallon drum?

It seems the middle of life brings us to a threshold; a kind of liminal space where we become too old for some things and see before us the challenges of aging that are inevitable. We care for the young and the old at the same time. This hit me hard when I spent several days in Pennsylvania recently to be with my Mom.

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The Truth of the Matter

Eager to perform my civic duty, I arrived at the Taunton Superior Court in Massachusetts on a Monday morning in March of 2010. Despite my willingness to serve as a juror, I hoped my time commitment would be limited to just a few hours. I would then be on my way with a renewed “get-out-of-jury-duty card” in hand for the next couple years. I was always excused before. My number was usually too high or the case settled once the jury pool was in the room. Proudly, I could say I fulfilled my service, but with little effort. By the end of the fifth day, I left the courtroom physically and emotionally exhausted.

The defendant was a 40-year-old man accused of assault with the intent to rape a child under the age of 16 and indecent assault and battery on a child under the age of 14. The alleged victim was his daughter.

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The Audacity of Student Innovation

We arrive on the college scene thinking what we experience today is much like it has been for a long, long time. The past is forgotten, as are the origins of life in an academic community. Those of us who serve as faculty and administrators often assume the apparatus of governance has always been on the leading edge of change, creating a future for our campuses that is orderly, well-defined and carefully managed through process. It’s a nice idea, but not a reflection of reality.

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Healing the Wounds of Our Environment and Our Lives

For the first several weeks of the BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico I wanted desperately to blame someone. It was hard watching the massive flow emanating from the ocean floor. Someone had to be held accountable. BP CEO, Tony Hayward, seemed an appropriate target with his flippant remarks and underestimation of the devastation caused by the spill. Yet, somewhere along the way I admitted to myself that I actually caused that spill, and I am very sorry for the result.

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