Maine Voters Preserve Marriage

     I had people tell me that same-sex marriage was sure to be officially enacted in Maine with the referendum just voted on.  The legislature had already voted to make it legal, but it had not become activated, pending the results of this referendum.  Like 30 other states, Maine has decided, through the democratic process, to keep marriage as marriage. 

     Believe it or not, I would have accepted Maine’s decision, if it had gone the other way.  I believe in state’s rights, and believe that the people in each state have the right to decide what relationships they recognize or do not recognize and how they define the term marriage.  I would have been sad, but I would have accepted Maine’s right to do it.

     Despite what some people say, it is not about hatred, and it certainly is not about homophobia, whatever that is.  I believe that it is about preserving tradition.  I believe that it is also about delineating and defining things:  marriage is one kind of relationship, but there are other kinds of relationships, too.  I think that it also has to do with keeping an institution that provides the most stability and security–as well as legal protection–for children, by establishing legally who their parents are, thus, who is responsible for them.  It also helps to establish who a person’s heirs are, espeically if one dies intestate.

     Marriage is in a sad state these days.  It makes me wonder, just a little, why some people want to expand it to include their different kind of relationship.  Many people live together and even have children without being married.  Many other people have serial marriages and divorces.  It’s so hard on the kids!  I wish more people would put their needs first.

     I would like to see marriage revived as an important institution and one that is supposed to be permanent and that is supposed to be characterized by fidelity and mutual love and support.  I would also like to see men and women getting married, and–if they choose–having children together–in that order.  All other “family” arrangements are contrary to nature and (I am a Christian, after all) God’s plan.  You can call them anything you want, but it doesn’t change what they are–or what they are not.

     Maybe some of my friends are right.  Maybe marriage should be taken completely out of the public domain.  I’m not convinced yet.  I think it could work, but I think it would create a lot of legal hassles.  I think it would end up causing harm–or at least not preventing harm–to many children. 

     What do you think?

The Judges Versus the Little Boy

     In Philadelphia a court decided to tell a little boy that he cannot regard the Bible as his favorite book.  Well, not really.  They apparently ruled that the boy could not bring it to class as part of a show-and-tell activity where the students were to bring their favorite book. 

     I cannot imagine any adults doing that to a boy in kindergarten.  I really cannot imagine a group of judges thinking that it is crucial to our American civilization to ban a Bible from a classroom. 

     Perhaps they should read the Constitution.  It’s apparently not their favorite document.

UPDATE:  The students were given an open invitation to have their parents come to class and read from their favorite book.  I still am appalled that two of the three justices of the 3rd Circuit believe it is their job to tell a little boy what his favorite book should or should not be.  The third justice wrote that the school engaged in viewpoint discrimination.  In the words of Scott Erb (see comments), “D’oh.” 

By the way, I do not take this position because it was a Bible.  If little Karim had brought a Koran for his mom or dad to read, I would also support his freedom of religion and freedom of expression.  That’s what freedom means–being free.  It doesn’t mean doing only what is politically correct.  Only if a person’s behavior harms somebody should it be legally curtailed.

My Fabulous Daughter

       This is my third post on my three children, which makes it my last one for awhile. You can find the other two below this one, if you are interested.

     My youngest child has become a guitarist. I began teaching her two years ago and she has made a lot of progress. She doesn’t practice as much as she should, if she wants to become proficient.  But when she does practice she does it with enthusiasm and total concentration.

     When I started teaching her to play the guitar, I made sure that she was learning to read music.  I didn’t want her to be limited to playing by ear only.  I hoped that learning the guitar might be a stepping stone to learning other instruments and become well-rounded musically.

     I have encouraged my children to develop an eclectic taste in music and to seek what is excellent in every genre and in every time period.  The message hasn’t always gotten through.  They tend to like the new and trendy music as their friends do, including this guitar-playing daughter.

     But now this daughter has discovered the Beatles.  She had heard the Beatles before but had little interest in them.  Now she has decided that she loves their music and wants to imitate some of their guitar playing.  She had already found the chords to “Yellow Submarine” and learned them. 

     She loves the electric guitar.  She loves the electric guitar with all sorts of effects.  It drives her mother crazy, although I can tolerate it and sometimes even enjoy it.  We bought her an electric-acoustic guitar and an amp that allows her to modify the sound, and she adores it.

     I really wanted her to be a classical and folk guitarist.  Oh, well. 

     More than anything else, I want her to find what really satisfies her–both musically and in every other way.  She tends to be pretty cerebral, so I am very happy for her to have a creative outlet.  Music is that for me, as well.  Music keeps me sane.

     Yes, we do play together.  My two daughters and I play and sing together a lot.  My son sometimes joins us on the djembe (an African drum).  It’s a lot of fun.

     I’m glad that my daugther can now admit that she likes the Beatles and other “old” music.  You’d think that the Beatles lived in the Dark Ages from the way she used to talk about them.  I’m glad that she realizes that it’s about what appeals to her rather than to her friends or her parents or anyone else.

     May she never bow to peer pressure but always like what she likes because she likes it.  I’m sure that she will.

My Terrific Daughter

     On Saturday our family was shopping together, and my daugther wanted to get some whipped cream.  Well, she really wanted to buy some cream-like substance that sprays out of a can.  I tried to persuade her to buy real whipping cream, but she didn’t want to.  She thinks that the artificial whipped topping tastes better.  I think that she just likes squirting it out of the can.

     On Sunday evening I asked her what she hoped to put the “whipped cream” on.  She said that she didn’t know.  I suggested that she make chocolate pudding for us.  She is quite good at it.  She started helping her mother make chocolate pudding from scratch a few years ago and then decided to try it all by herself. 

     This daugther is the creative one.  She loves to decorate her room, coordinate her clothes, draw and paint, and decorate cookies and cakes. I’m amazed at some of the things that she can do. I’m proud of her for her innovation and imagination.

     She did make the pudding, and it was fantastic.  She squirted the cool, creamy stuff on it–more than a typical serving.  She’s just crazy about it! 

     I hope that her taste becomes more refined and that she realizes the superiority of the cream that comes out of a cow.  We’ll see.  In the meantime, we will probably have the rest of the “whipped cream” on a pumpkin pie or on chocolate cupcakes.

My Magnificent Son

     I watched my son play basketball on Friday night. He is in ninth grade, and so he plays on the B-team.  That’s okay with me.  After watching the A-team play, I can see why.  Those older boys are much faster and tougher than my son, who is one of the best players on his team.

     I am not a big sports fan, but I enjoyed watching my son play.  He can jump higher than anyone on his team.  He played his position and assisted the other players on his team as he has been trained to do.  It is this last part that makes me the most proud of him.  He has had a hard time listening to his mother or me–throughout his entire life–but he listens to his teachers and his coaches. 

     I’m not proud of him for being a good basketball player, although I am happy for him.  He has been blessed with athleticism and a tall, sturdy physique.  Interestingly enough he prefers soccer/football, but he appears to me to be much more suited to basketball. Of course, it’s his choice.

     I am very proud of him for being a good sport and a team player.  I am proud of him for showing proper respect to his coach.  Those things matter so much more to me than the fact that he is a naturally gifted athlete.  Not that I don’t revel in his athleticism.  I congratulated him and the rest of the team for winning the game.  I recounted ti him some of his particularly good moves that I observed.  But I told him how impressed I was by the good character that I observed, too.

     Even more gratifying to me as a father were the comments people made as I watched the game.  Several people told me how courteous he is.  They remarked about what a faithful friend he is to his buddies.  They also mentioned how helpful he is to the teachers and what a joy he is when he visits their homes.

     Thanks be to God for the blessing of a wonderful son!

What Are They Teaching the Kids?

    I just read about a project in which kids wrote letters to President Obama, some of which will be posted in an e-book. I’m not sure what we’re supposed to make of the project.  As I read exceprts of the letters I couldn’t help thinking that a lot of parents and teachers are failing these kids miserably.

     Reading the excerpts, one gets the impression that these kids think that Barack Obama is a combination of Santa Claus, Superman, and Jesus Christ all rolled into one.  One kid wants him to make candy fall from the sky.  Another wants him to develop a cure for cancer.  One child described him as really, really awesome.  

     I’m flummoxed.  What gave these kids the idea that President Obama has supernatural power or that it is his responsibility to fix every problem that exists in the world?  Why aren’t their parents and teachers explaining that he is just a man with a very important job, and that under the Constitution he actually has only moderate power–since he shares it with the Congress and the Supreme Court?  Why aren’t they teaching the kids that it is really up to research scientists and foundations to find a cure for cancer?  Why don’t they realize that all kinds of people have a role in solving the world’s problems–including the kids themeselves?

     Lots of us conservatives made fun of the way that Obama was treated as a Messiah-figure during the campaign.  These letters make it clear to me that a lot of kids bought into it.  How sad.  My parents taught me to respect the nation’s president and all other government officials, but they also made sure that I knew that we have a citizen-president who is subject to the same laws and limitations that all other human beings are.   He cannot fly or heal people miraculously or make everybody love each other.  He cannot institute Paradise; it’s somebody else’s job to do that.

     More remarkable than the wild expectations of these children is the fact that Barack Obama had not actually accomplished anything great when they wrote the letters.  All he was to them was a face on television.  He still hasn’t accomplished anything great for that matter.  Shouldn’t we reserve such extreme praise for people like Mahatma Gandhi, Neil Armstrong, Mother Teresa, and Nelson Mandela?

     It’s disgusting to see children treating the leader of a free democratic country the way that children in North Korea are expected to treat Kim Jong-Il.  One child included a picture of the president as “the new sunrise of America.” Didn’t the Pharaohs and the Roman Emperors demand worship as  descendants of the sun god?

     Some people will say, “Lighten up!  They’re just kids!”  Yes, they are kids, but some of them are old enough to know better.  I suppose I can chuckle when a seven-year old asks for candy to rain down from heaven, although I know that my children were smarter than that by age seven.  I can’t chuckle when a child of age ten or elven thinks that the President will make sure that his father has a job or that wars cease forever.  They are being robbed of a decent education, apparently.  I feel more like crying than laughing.  It tells me that 1984 –with its bleary eyed people watching Big Brother on the enormous screen– really is on the way.

     To any young people reading this I say:  If you want to believe in a higher power, I suggest that you believe in Jesus.  But whether or not you believe in Jesus, please believe in yourself.  You are an amazing being–a rational human being.  You already have all that you need to succeed in life.  You don’t need a president or any other person to take care of you.  (Even your parents should cease taking care of you eventually.)  You should never trust anyone as your only hope or source of hope.  Hope is good, but it must be grounded in reality.  And hope must be supported by hard work and determination.

     Take the great pioneers and explorers and inventors and innovators as your role models.  They didn’t need a Great Leader or a Big Brother to manage their lives for them.  They didn’t expect somebody else to fulfill their vision for them.  They did it themselves.

     Be suspicious of anyone who claims to have all the answers–me included.  You can find the answers for yourself,  if you use the fantastic brain that you already have.  Be suspicious of anyone who asks something from you in exchange for a promise of meeting your every need.  Not only WILL nobody do it, but nobody CAN do it.  They will rip you off every time, because they either have no interest in meeting your every need or no ability to do so or both.  Be suspicious of anyone who wants you to be dependent rather than independent.  It’s scary to be independent, but it is also a joyful way to live. 

     If you want candy, then set up a lemonade stand and earn some money to buy candy.  If you want war to end, then you be a person of peace yourself and promote peace among others.  If you want cancer to be cured (as do I, since I lost my sister to it), then you donate to cancer research and you consider becoming a scientist yourself so that perhaps you will be the one to end the terrible disease someday.  If you want the world to stay clean, then make sure that you use resources wisely and encourage others to do so.  You have the power.  Yes, YOU can.

Articles on “Botched” Abortion

     Here are some links to articles about the case of the baby that was born and disposed of in a Tampa, Florida, abortion clinic. 

Doctor Loses License, CNN

Fla.  Doctor Loses License, AP

———————————————————————————-

     What happened to the safe in “legal, safe, and rare”?

     What about the excuse of protecting the health of the mother?

     What about the excuse of its being only an unformed blob?

     Why is it bad when the baby is outside the womb but good just moments before when the baby is inside the womb?

     If this case came to light, aren’t there others like it that never have?

Can We Agree on This?

     Please tell me that you think what happened at an abortion clinic in Tampa, Florida, is horrific.

     And please admit that this incident presents a significant challenge to many of the platitudes of the pro-abortion view.

     The baby was born alive and took a breath.  Other babies have survived at the same stage of development.  It was a baby, not merely a “fetus” and not an unformed blob.  Even the mother who was going to “get rid of it” realzied it once she saw her.

      Because a baby was born alive and then left to die–or made to die–murder charges have been considered.  Yet had the abortion not been “botched” it would have been a medical procedure–despite the outcome’s being exactly the same.  How can it be a medical procedure if the killing occurs in the womb but  possibly be murder if the killing occurs outside the womb?  That’s like saying that fatally shooting somebody in the street is murder but fatally shooting them in your house isn’t.

     It’s the same entity we are talking about.  Nothing transformed the baby into a human being the moment its head crossed the cervix.  What it was outside the mother’s body is what it was inside her body.  It’s a difference of only a split second and a few inches.

Reciting the Pledge

     In Woodbury, Vermont, a controversy has erupted over the recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance, but it’s not about whether children should say the word God this time.  The issue this time is when and where students recite the Pledge.  Some of the town’s citizens believe that all the students in each classroom should recite it together.  The ones who choose not to recite it can simply refrain from doing so.  School officials have decided that it is better to have the students who want to recite the pledge gather in a separate place before school starts to do so.

     I can only think of three reasons that students might not recite the Pledge of Allegiance:  their religion forbids them from doing so, they are atheists who don’t want to mention God, or they are not citizens of the United States.  I suppose some clever student might say that he agrees with all the sentiments in the Pledge but just doesn’t like engaging in empty symbolic gestures.

    For a short time in my life I refrained from reciting the Pledge of Allegiance myself.  I felt squeamish about it, because it seemed like idolatry.  I will still recite it when others are doing so, but I still feel a bit strange about doing so.  One thing I have never done is tell other people that they shouldn’t recite it in my presence.  I would never do so.  I just quietly refrained from saying it myself.

     I don’t really see what’s wrong with just refraining from reciting the pledge as other students are doing so.  The school’s solution is not better in my opinion, because all the students will still know who recites the pledge and who doesn’t.  The school said that they don’t want students to feel different.  What’s wrong with feeling different–if you are different?

     I think some of my regular readers will be surprised when I say that it might be better just not to have students recite the Pledge of Allegiance.  It is controversial, and it is not necessary to recite the Pledge to be patriotic.  They could sing along with the national anthem every day or sing another patriotic song.    They could recite a prayer for America. . .if they were allowed to pray.

Math and Me

     My son is struggling in algebra.  He has always had difficulty in comprehending math concepts.  While thinking about how my wife and I can best help him, I was musing about my own struggles in math.

     I always got low grades in arithemtic when I was in elementary schools.  Some of my teachers grouped the class according to ability, and I was always in the lowest group.  I always thought of it as the “dumb” group, but I wasn’t particularly bothered by being in that goup.  The work was easier, and I had a chance of passing in that group.  In fifth grade, they sent me to a “special” class for math.  During that year they also sent me to a “special” class for language arts, because the regular class was too easy for me.

     Numbers and I just didn’t relate to each other.  I didn’t see their what their usefulness was.  They seemed cold and unbending.  Words, on the other hand, were amazing!  Ever since I was small, I was fascinated by words–their sounds and definitions and origins.  I liked looking at alphabets and beautifully-printed texts.  I enjoyed playing with anagrams and rhymes, and i loved solving crossword puzzles–but not those silly cross-number puzzles that some puzzle books have in them.

     Something happened, though, when I took algebra.  I started to get A’s.  Perhaps it was because I had a great teacher for that class.  Or perhpas it was because I matured, and became determined to do better.  Perhaps it was that I finally saw the usefulness of mathematics.  I could see how I might need to know the elapsed time of an airplane flight from Atlanta to Miami or the number of square feet of carpet I needed for my condominium.  Still, I was a bit surprised by my success in algebra.

     I couldn’t believe it when the head math teacher of the high school asked to see me.  What could he possibly want with me?  I really couldn’t believe it when he asked me to be on our school’s competitive math team.  He must have gotten the wrong name, I thought.  No, my algebra teacher had recommended me.

     He wanted me to compete in mental math, which was called Number Sense in my state.  I just couldn’t believe that he would invite me, the kid who was in a remedial math class in fifth grade, to be on a team of math wizzes who spent Saturdays competing against math wizzes from other schools.  I would have to answer questions like “what is the sum of half the square root of 144 and twice the square of 4?” and “simplify 42/189.”  Worse yet, I would have to try to answer it, along with 48 other questions, faster than other people.  I was the kid who still couldn’t read a clock or recite the multiplication tables in fifth grade.

     I did pretty badly when I started competing with the math team.  Unfortunately there was no handicap and no division by ability levels.  Even as a freshman I went up against seniors who had perfected their skills.  Nevertheless, my score helped the team, and I improved gradually.  I learned things that I had never known before.  I found out how easy it is to multiply any two-digit number by 11.  I learned the divisibility rules, in order to reduce fractions more quickly.  I realized that I could regroup hundreds, tens, and ones in my head, if I would just concentrate and try to visualize the numbers.

     Eventually I was placing in the top ten in local contests, and I even got a trophy once for coming in third place.  During my senior year I represented my school at the state interscholastic competition.  I seem to recall that I ranked about 30 out of several hundred students (Texas is a big state.) 

     If you were to ask me, either then or now, if I like math, I would say, “No, but I understand it.”  I came to understand that there are processes to follow, whether one understands the reasoning behind them or not.  There are facts to memorize, whether one cares about knowing them or not.  I finally saw that math was work, but also that it could be fun.  Mostly I saw that it was necessary, and also sometimes intriguing and mysterious and elegant.

     My son has found some peers to tutor him.  He has asked the teacher for some extra help sessions.  He is trying to stay calm and focused.  He is also working on staying better organized.  We’ll see what happens.  He doesn’t listen to me, but he is listening to other people who want to help him.  I hope that he can make peace with math the way that I did.