This year marks the 25th anniversary with my current main employer. Hard to believe it's been a quarter century!
After all that time, one can't help but look back on one's career. I know there will be a faculty appreciation luncheon in May that I should probably attend--because someone who reaches such a milestone will receive, I'm guessing, some sort of tangible recognition of that longevity. And I suppose it will be nice to get a knick-knack to commemorate the milestone.
Still, I'd trade any knick-knack for some sincere, specific, and informal "good words." It's taken me a long time to realize this, but I work in a place where benign neglect is standard operating procedure. And in some ways, that's truly great: I don't spend time looking over my shoulder, wondering if someone is monitoring me or is about to terminate me, and that is a tremendous benefit--one that I never take for granted. Nonetheless, I yearn for an environment where people--especially administrative people--say the little things, face-to-face, that make all the difference. For after a quarter century in the same place, I'm still not sure what people think of me, or what they value in me, or even (to some degree) what they don't like. Whatever feedback I get from "higher ups" is inevitably formal and brief and is normally delivered every 10 years or so--if that. At best, I'm left to conclude that "no news is good news."
As George Herbert Mead proposed a century ago, our self-concept is largely derived by what the world tells us about ourselves. And what my world has told me is: basically nothing. From time to time, I get incredibly rewarding feedback from students, but that feedback is sporadic. What's missing in all this is a sense that I've done more than simply hang around for 25 years--that someone in a position of authority knows who I am and values what I do.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Praying away the gay
This post could also be titled, "Star Tribune editors can't stop me, part 17."
When I submit things to the local newspaper, I know they won't all be published. Over the years, some have made the cut and some haven't. This past Saturday, a reader asked six questions about homosexuality and same-sex marriage. Not surprisingly, embedded within his questions were implicit arguments. There was something about the questions that provoked me, and so I submitted answers to them all. But, according to the StarTrib editors, they received so many responses to his questions that they could only print one representative reaction. And, frankly, they chose a good one from a woman who's an "assistant priest at St. Mary's Episcopal Church-Basswood Grove." She makes many of the same points that I did--just more gently and diplomatically. And that, perhaps, makes her response the better one. Nonetheless, I do have to post my reaction somewhere--hey, how about my blog? So for better or worse, here it is:
Reader Dan Nye (Star Tribune, January 14) has asked some reasonable questions regarding homosexuality and same-sex marriage, and I will try to provide some reasonable answers.
He wants to know if our ancestors were all “dumb and bigoted” because they thought homosexuality is wrong. Although that’s an extreme characterization, the short answer is “yes.” Human history has shown that our ancestors were not always enlightened. They thought the Earth was the center of the universe. They owned slaves. They killed “witches.” They thought women belonged in the kitchen. They didn’t know about germs or genes. They did the best they could with what they knew—but they didn’t always know that much. No, our ancestors weren’t “dumb,” but they were in many ways ignorant and often very dogmatic.
Nye claims that “prevalent homosexuality has made its appearance in human history before and has never lasted.” That’s just factually incorrect. Whether it is visible or not, or socially sanctioned or not, homosexuality has been a part of every world culture—always—period. Indeed, I would challenge him to show even one nation on earth where a fairly predictable percentage of the population is not gay.
Mr. Nye argues that “sexual desires, if not controlled, easily lead us into trouble.” He’s right. That’s why we have laws against rape, child sexual abuse, and sexual harassment. Absolutely no one—straight or gay—can justify sexual violence or sex that is not consensual. So with respect to sexual orientation, it’s really irrelevant to a discussion of same-sex marriage. We can all agree that sex which is abusive or hurts others crosses a line, and Dan should not be alarmed by faithful homosexual partners. Indeed—ironically—that’s the very reason to support same-sex marriage: these people want to make a public commitment to love and fidelity.
Dan wonders, “Don’t our sexual organs exist for reproduction? How does homosexuality square with that?” Here the answer is certainly more murky. But it’s a bit like saying, “Don’t our mouths exist basically for eating? So how do talking, singing, and whistling square with that?” Yes, heterosexual intercourse is how babies are made, but the question assumes that everything in the human body has one and only one purpose or function. Following Dan’s logic, we should probably annul any heterosexual marriages where there are no kids, because all those folks are doing in such marriages is enjoying sexuality with no concern for progeny. Yes, our sexual organs enable human reproduction, but that is not their only function or purpose. Sex is not just a way to make babies; it’s a way to express one’s love and intimacy. And with the planet’s population at 7 billion and rising, I’m not sure why he’s worried about human reproduction anyway.
Dan’s last question is perhaps the most ominous. It implies that those who support same-sex marriage may be sending gay couples to “perdition” because God might be opposed to homosexuality. Worse, he toys with guilt by association: even straight people who support gay rights, he muses, might be in line for eternal damnation as well. Of course, these ideas are a combination or paranoia and limited understanding of the Bible, not to mention a conception of God that’s both chilling and a little presumptuous. If a loving God would create people with a homosexual orientation (this is really not a conscious choice, after all) and then send them and even their friends to hell for good measure, that’s a conception of divinity which is light years from divine. I hope and pray that Dan will re-think this idea of a vengeful, spiteful God, because it is out of character with Christian values as I understand them.
- David Lapakko, Richfield, MN
In this election year, be prepared for lots more discussion out there about same-sex marriage. It's only just begun!
When I submit things to the local newspaper, I know they won't all be published. Over the years, some have made the cut and some haven't. This past Saturday, a reader asked six questions about homosexuality and same-sex marriage. Not surprisingly, embedded within his questions were implicit arguments. There was something about the questions that provoked me, and so I submitted answers to them all. But, according to the StarTrib editors, they received so many responses to his questions that they could only print one representative reaction. And, frankly, they chose a good one from a woman who's an "assistant priest at St. Mary's Episcopal Church-Basswood Grove." She makes many of the same points that I did--just more gently and diplomatically. And that, perhaps, makes her response the better one. Nonetheless, I do have to post my reaction somewhere--hey, how about my blog? So for better or worse, here it is:
Reader Dan Nye (Star Tribune, January 14) has asked some reasonable questions regarding homosexuality and same-sex marriage, and I will try to provide some reasonable answers.
He wants to know if our ancestors were all “dumb and bigoted” because they thought homosexuality is wrong. Although that’s an extreme characterization, the short answer is “yes.” Human history has shown that our ancestors were not always enlightened. They thought the Earth was the center of the universe. They owned slaves. They killed “witches.” They thought women belonged in the kitchen. They didn’t know about germs or genes. They did the best they could with what they knew—but they didn’t always know that much. No, our ancestors weren’t “dumb,” but they were in many ways ignorant and often very dogmatic.
Nye claims that “prevalent homosexuality has made its appearance in human history before and has never lasted.” That’s just factually incorrect. Whether it is visible or not, or socially sanctioned or not, homosexuality has been a part of every world culture—always—period. Indeed, I would challenge him to show even one nation on earth where a fairly predictable percentage of the population is not gay.
Mr. Nye argues that “sexual desires, if not controlled, easily lead us into trouble.” He’s right. That’s why we have laws against rape, child sexual abuse, and sexual harassment. Absolutely no one—straight or gay—can justify sexual violence or sex that is not consensual. So with respect to sexual orientation, it’s really irrelevant to a discussion of same-sex marriage. We can all agree that sex which is abusive or hurts others crosses a line, and Dan should not be alarmed by faithful homosexual partners. Indeed—ironically—that’s the very reason to support same-sex marriage: these people want to make a public commitment to love and fidelity.
Dan wonders, “Don’t our sexual organs exist for reproduction? How does homosexuality square with that?” Here the answer is certainly more murky. But it’s a bit like saying, “Don’t our mouths exist basically for eating? So how do talking, singing, and whistling square with that?” Yes, heterosexual intercourse is how babies are made, but the question assumes that everything in the human body has one and only one purpose or function. Following Dan’s logic, we should probably annul any heterosexual marriages where there are no kids, because all those folks are doing in such marriages is enjoying sexuality with no concern for progeny. Yes, our sexual organs enable human reproduction, but that is not their only function or purpose. Sex is not just a way to make babies; it’s a way to express one’s love and intimacy. And with the planet’s population at 7 billion and rising, I’m not sure why he’s worried about human reproduction anyway.
Dan’s last question is perhaps the most ominous. It implies that those who support same-sex marriage may be sending gay couples to “perdition” because God might be opposed to homosexuality. Worse, he toys with guilt by association: even straight people who support gay rights, he muses, might be in line for eternal damnation as well. Of course, these ideas are a combination or paranoia and limited understanding of the Bible, not to mention a conception of God that’s both chilling and a little presumptuous. If a loving God would create people with a homosexual orientation (this is really not a conscious choice, after all) and then send them and even their friends to hell for good measure, that’s a conception of divinity which is light years from divine. I hope and pray that Dan will re-think this idea of a vengeful, spiteful God, because it is out of character with Christian values as I understand them.
- David Lapakko, Richfield, MN
In this election year, be prepared for lots more discussion out there about same-sex marriage. It's only just begun!
Monday, January 9, 2012
Tebow Mania is Insania
"Because Tim Tebow is a religious figure rather than an athletic one, the limitations of his talent wind up testifying to the potency of his faith. The fact that he'll be almost comically inept for three quarters and then catch an updraft of mastery in the fourth serves to demonstrate not that he's a winner but that Jesus is — and, above all, that Christianity works." - Tom Junod, Esquire magazine. [Read more: http://www.esquire.com/the-side/feature/tim-tebow-christianity-6619366#ixzz1j0KYJ1ds]
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Whiny students
Lord knows I'm not perfect. And, although I could be deluding myself, I think I'm pretty well aware of my strengths and weaknesses as a professor. And, I really don't mind constructive criticism, especially when it's specific, fair, and reasoned. What I do mind are whiny people, and while my course evaluations are generally positive, I do get some "zingers" from time to time.
This past academic term has been such a case. I had one student who believed that I was dissing his informative speech because of his skin color, when in reality I was dissing it because it didn't meet some standard tests for coherence. (Nonetheless, he sent a video of that speech to two other instructors in my department, both of whom told him the same things that I did, with scores to match.) I had another student who went on record as saying that it's "impossible" to pass one of my courses, even though 80 percent of the students received either an "A" or a "B" in the class. (And let's not forget that she missed 3 of the 8 class meetings, a minor detail.) Then there are those who suggest that "if you don't agree with him, you won't have a chance" to succeed, because the course is just an exercise in being brainwashed by his opinions. (We all know what an intimidating, authoritarian personality I have.) What's even more maddening is that these comments appear in rather public and permanent places--they are in electronic form, and as such, they will never really go away. If I make negative comments about a student, they are largely confined to their exam or their paper--but their rants can be accessed by tenure and promotion committees, and in the case of ratemyprofessors.com, by anyone on the planet with an iPhone or a laptop.
It can be a cold, cruel world out there--and sometimes I just need to persevere despite such feedback. But, it's certainly not all bad news. What keeps me going are comments like those from a student on his blog that mentioned me as one of his "favorite professors" to date, "passionate" about his subject. (Josh, I thank you for that--it keeps me in the ballgame.) And on some rare occasions, I know that I've played an absolutely critical, life-changing role with respect to someone's career choice and/or their future success; that's a huge payoff.
Nonetheless, those of you who labor away in cubicles: be a little thankful that your every move is not being seen and evaluated by 25 other people. It's a challenge!
This past academic term has been such a case. I had one student who believed that I was dissing his informative speech because of his skin color, when in reality I was dissing it because it didn't meet some standard tests for coherence. (Nonetheless, he sent a video of that speech to two other instructors in my department, both of whom told him the same things that I did, with scores to match.) I had another student who went on record as saying that it's "impossible" to pass one of my courses, even though 80 percent of the students received either an "A" or a "B" in the class. (And let's not forget that she missed 3 of the 8 class meetings, a minor detail.) Then there are those who suggest that "if you don't agree with him, you won't have a chance" to succeed, because the course is just an exercise in being brainwashed by his opinions. (We all know what an intimidating, authoritarian personality I have.) What's even more maddening is that these comments appear in rather public and permanent places--they are in electronic form, and as such, they will never really go away. If I make negative comments about a student, they are largely confined to their exam or their paper--but their rants can be accessed by tenure and promotion committees, and in the case of ratemyprofessors.com, by anyone on the planet with an iPhone or a laptop.
It can be a cold, cruel world out there--and sometimes I just need to persevere despite such feedback. But, it's certainly not all bad news. What keeps me going are comments like those from a student on his blog that mentioned me as one of his "favorite professors" to date, "passionate" about his subject. (Josh, I thank you for that--it keeps me in the ballgame.) And on some rare occasions, I know that I've played an absolutely critical, life-changing role with respect to someone's career choice and/or their future success; that's a huge payoff.
Nonetheless, those of you who labor away in cubicles: be a little thankful that your every move is not being seen and evaluated by 25 other people. It's a challenge!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Bachmann and her connection to God
In an election campaign, there's probably no better ally than The Big Man Upstairs. So it should probably not come as a shock that Michele Bachmann has suggested that God called her to run--both for Congress and for the Presidency.
This line of "thinking"--if we can call it that--is so idiotic that it disqualifies her from serious consideration on that basis alone.
God is apparently a very busy guy. In a universe that is incomprehensible in size, comprised of millions of galaxies and billions of stars, God is quite the micromanager--He is invoked at football games and political rallies as if He is watching all the proceedings and intervening on behalf of the better candidate or team. Imagine what it's like up there in heaven: "Jeez, 4th and 2 with just 12 seconds remaining--I'd better have them call a fade pattern into the back left corner of the end zone; that will give them the win. Thank God I'm calling the shots here! My fantasy teams are kicking butt, big-time."
The fantasy, of course, is the idea that God is doing any of this in the first place. And it will do my heart good--oh so good--to see Bachmann's campaign wither away after the Iowa caucuses, where she is sure to flounder. And then, I hope Michele asks the obvious question:
If God wanted me to run, why did he make me lose?
(And why did he even let that Obama guy become President in the first place?)
There will come a time--unfortunately, not in my lifetime or maybe even my grandchildrens'--when people will look back at this type of belief system and say, "What in the hell were they thinking?" I surely do not know, and it's painful and frustrating to watch. When it comes to religion, people who are otherwise fairly bright and reasonable transform themselves into instant idiots.
R.I.P., Christopher Hitchens, for your efforts to debunk all this craziness.
This line of "thinking"--if we can call it that--is so idiotic that it disqualifies her from serious consideration on that basis alone.
God is apparently a very busy guy. In a universe that is incomprehensible in size, comprised of millions of galaxies and billions of stars, God is quite the micromanager--He is invoked at football games and political rallies as if He is watching all the proceedings and intervening on behalf of the better candidate or team. Imagine what it's like up there in heaven: "Jeez, 4th and 2 with just 12 seconds remaining--I'd better have them call a fade pattern into the back left corner of the end zone; that will give them the win. Thank God I'm calling the shots here! My fantasy teams are kicking butt, big-time."
The fantasy, of course, is the idea that God is doing any of this in the first place. And it will do my heart good--oh so good--to see Bachmann's campaign wither away after the Iowa caucuses, where she is sure to flounder. And then, I hope Michele asks the obvious question:
If God wanted me to run, why did he make me lose?
(And why did he even let that Obama guy become President in the first place?)
There will come a time--unfortunately, not in my lifetime or maybe even my grandchildrens'--when people will look back at this type of belief system and say, "What in the hell were they thinking?" I surely do not know, and it's painful and frustrating to watch. When it comes to religion, people who are otherwise fairly bright and reasonable transform themselves into instant idiots.
R.I.P., Christopher Hitchens, for your efforts to debunk all this craziness.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Three months worth of lessons
Gosh--it's been over three months since the Contentious One added to his collection of rants in this space. Of course, as a consequence, my thousands of fans across the world have been in a funk--especially those hard-core CI followers in Sri Lanka, Uruguay, Belgium, and Malawi. But not to worry--I'm back! Let the celebrating begin.
What's been happening in the last three months? And what can we learn from these things?
Lesson #1: Health care remains amazingly expensive and out of whack. Our daughter had emergency surgery in August--a ruptured cyst on her right ovary. In the hospital before lunch; out of the hospital just after dinner. Total cost? $26,000. That's right--two, six, zero, zero, zero, a mere $3500 an hour. After several reductions and allowances--including insurance--our share became around $2,000--but that's still two grand out of pocket for less than a day in the hospital. WTF.
Lesson #2: College has become less demanding. Back in the day, the courses that I took as an undergraduate were pretty challenging. It wasn't at all shocking to have three or four textbooks in a course (and we walked to those classes in bare feet through 8-foot snowdrifts, too--and we liked it!) These days, I get all kinds of pushback (love that word--one of my favorites right now) about "how many theories we have to learn" and "how many chapters there are." (Never mind that the current set of readings is about 149 pages, total, to cover a minimum of three weeks of classes.) I've just heard a lot of whining lately, not to mention some serious misunderstandings of what's involved in higher education and how the game is played. ["Why aren't the tests open book?" "Writing assignments--what is this, an English class?" "This class concerns me--I guess I'm going to have to talk to the Admissions Office (!) about it."] But, bottom line, we are expecting less of these kids.
Lesson #3: The culture wars are still very nasty. And incredibly bizarre. I'm constantly flabbergasted by those who think (a) that beleaguered, oppressed top 1 percent needs to be shielded against higher taxes, (b) those gay people need to be told that they can't marry (even though they can't marry now anyway!), (c) the President is an evil Socialist, (d) God controls everything, and (e) unless you think that the U.S. is the most exceptional nation in the world that you should move to Teheran. And, in a nation of 300,000,000 people, that our "best and brightest" include the likes of Michele Bachmann, Sarah Palin, and Rick Perry. (And let's not forget Mr. Herman Cain, former pizza chain CEO, who has about as much foreign policy experience as Larry the Cable Guy.)
Lesson #4: We all need positive strokes. I didn't realize until September how depleted my ego was--my very sense of self. After submitting 162 pages of material in the fall of 2009 to a promotion committee, and being told by that committee that 162 pages was insufficient, and that a promotion was not going to happen for several other reasons, I began to question my value in the world. And then along came Shannon--an angel from a publisher, a publisher that needed help getting a textbook finished. I reviewed 9 chapters of that book; I wrote 13 boxed items for that book; I revised several of those chapters from top to bottom; and I wrote a summary along with discussion questions at the end of each chapter. And for the first time in memory--certainly the first time this century--I felt recognized and appreciated. Shannon didn't seem to have enough superlatives--each new piece was either "excellent," or "flawless," or "perfect," or the like. And I just gobbled up all those strokes like a man who'd been wandering around the desert for 3 days with nothing to eat or drink. In the end, Shannon said she hadn't worked with anyone better in her 15 years in publishing, and I was floating. (And I made some pretty darn good money too!) I came to realize that I work in a place of benign neglect--no one ever really hassles you (thank goodness for that), but no one ever really tells you the good stuff that you need to hear, either. As best I can, I need to pay all this forward a bit: it's sometimes hard to do so with a whiny or inept student, but I was reminded of what that glow feels like and why it matters. Here's a big hug for y'all.
Thanksgiving tomorrow--my favorite holiday of the year. Have a good one.
What's been happening in the last three months? And what can we learn from these things?
Lesson #1: Health care remains amazingly expensive and out of whack. Our daughter had emergency surgery in August--a ruptured cyst on her right ovary. In the hospital before lunch; out of the hospital just after dinner. Total cost? $26,000. That's right--two, six, zero, zero, zero, a mere $3500 an hour. After several reductions and allowances--including insurance--our share became around $2,000--but that's still two grand out of pocket for less than a day in the hospital. WTF.
Lesson #2: College has become less demanding. Back in the day, the courses that I took as an undergraduate were pretty challenging. It wasn't at all shocking to have three or four textbooks in a course (and we walked to those classes in bare feet through 8-foot snowdrifts, too--and we liked it!) These days, I get all kinds of pushback (love that word--one of my favorites right now) about "how many theories we have to learn" and "how many chapters there are." (Never mind that the current set of readings is about 149 pages, total, to cover a minimum of three weeks of classes.) I've just heard a lot of whining lately, not to mention some serious misunderstandings of what's involved in higher education and how the game is played. ["Why aren't the tests open book?" "Writing assignments--what is this, an English class?" "This class concerns me--I guess I'm going to have to talk to the Admissions Office (!) about it."] But, bottom line, we are expecting less of these kids.
Lesson #3: The culture wars are still very nasty. And incredibly bizarre. I'm constantly flabbergasted by those who think (a) that beleaguered, oppressed top 1 percent needs to be shielded against higher taxes, (b) those gay people need to be told that they can't marry (even though they can't marry now anyway!), (c) the President is an evil Socialist, (d) God controls everything, and (e) unless you think that the U.S. is the most exceptional nation in the world that you should move to Teheran. And, in a nation of 300,000,000 people, that our "best and brightest" include the likes of Michele Bachmann, Sarah Palin, and Rick Perry. (And let's not forget Mr. Herman Cain, former pizza chain CEO, who has about as much foreign policy experience as Larry the Cable Guy.)
Lesson #4: We all need positive strokes. I didn't realize until September how depleted my ego was--my very sense of self. After submitting 162 pages of material in the fall of 2009 to a promotion committee, and being told by that committee that 162 pages was insufficient, and that a promotion was not going to happen for several other reasons, I began to question my value in the world. And then along came Shannon--an angel from a publisher, a publisher that needed help getting a textbook finished. I reviewed 9 chapters of that book; I wrote 13 boxed items for that book; I revised several of those chapters from top to bottom; and I wrote a summary along with discussion questions at the end of each chapter. And for the first time in memory--certainly the first time this century--I felt recognized and appreciated. Shannon didn't seem to have enough superlatives--each new piece was either "excellent," or "flawless," or "perfect," or the like. And I just gobbled up all those strokes like a man who'd been wandering around the desert for 3 days with nothing to eat or drink. In the end, Shannon said she hadn't worked with anyone better in her 15 years in publishing, and I was floating. (And I made some pretty darn good money too!) I came to realize that I work in a place of benign neglect--no one ever really hassles you (thank goodness for that), but no one ever really tells you the good stuff that you need to hear, either. As best I can, I need to pay all this forward a bit: it's sometimes hard to do so with a whiny or inept student, but I was reminded of what that glow feels like and why it matters. Here's a big hug for y'all.
Thanksgiving tomorrow--my favorite holiday of the year. Have a good one.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Dad turns 100 today
August 8, 2011 marks my father’s 100th birthday. (We often talk in these terms with celebrities—even if they are no longer living, we refer to them as if they were; e.g., it’s Beethoven’s 200th birthday or some such thing.) In dad’s case, May 14, 1970 marked the end of his life in the normal sense of the word, but in that other sense he’s now a full century old.
Since it’s been over 41 years since he died, I have to realize that Victor Elmer Lapakko has been gone for well over two-thirds of my life. In many ways, his passing seems like such an ancient, distant event; it’s almost as if he was never around. But, if I see a photo or two, or think about stories from the past, he becomes real again.
When it comes to dad, my dominant fantasy involves just showing him around the world of 2011. I think more than anything, he would have been fascinated by what’s happened in the way of technology. I’d love to demonstrate to him how computers work, or the Internet, or cell phones, or iPods; he'd be amazed by it all. One trait that he had was a sense of awe and wonder about the world, and I think there’s much that would dazzle him.
Dad would also be intrigued by what’s happened in politics. On the day he went into surgery--never to come out of it--he was as concerned as anything else about the Vietnam War. He wanted to know if the political pressure to end that war was going to succeed. He’d be surprised by the dissolution of the USSR and the end of the Cold War. And he, along with my mom, would be pleased as can be that a person of color was sitting in the Oval Office.
When you’re 19 years old, you think that your parents will live forever, and it’s still a shock that dad died at the age of 58. But even a full century after his birth he lives on for me, and I will always respect and appreciate the buoyant, committed, and curious person that he was.
Since it’s been over 41 years since he died, I have to realize that Victor Elmer Lapakko has been gone for well over two-thirds of my life. In many ways, his passing seems like such an ancient, distant event; it’s almost as if he was never around. But, if I see a photo or two, or think about stories from the past, he becomes real again.
When it comes to dad, my dominant fantasy involves just showing him around the world of 2011. I think more than anything, he would have been fascinated by what’s happened in the way of technology. I’d love to demonstrate to him how computers work, or the Internet, or cell phones, or iPods; he'd be amazed by it all. One trait that he had was a sense of awe and wonder about the world, and I think there’s much that would dazzle him.
Dad would also be intrigued by what’s happened in politics. On the day he went into surgery--never to come out of it--he was as concerned as anything else about the Vietnam War. He wanted to know if the political pressure to end that war was going to succeed. He’d be surprised by the dissolution of the USSR and the end of the Cold War. And he, along with my mom, would be pleased as can be that a person of color was sitting in the Oval Office.
When you’re 19 years old, you think that your parents will live forever, and it’s still a shock that dad died at the age of 58. But even a full century after his birth he lives on for me, and I will always respect and appreciate the buoyant, committed, and curious person that he was.
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