Air conditioning was a fan in the window and, amazingly, we somehow managed with only one television. My father largely dictated what we watched but Saturday morning was my time and I took full advantage of it. Growing up all I ever wanted was to live in a similar home. Now, my dreams have expanded but I sometimes wish that I could bring myself to want nothing greater than what I grew up with. There was a beauty in the simplicity of it all.
Growing up as essentially an only child I was expected to help out around the house considerably. Both of my parents were severe taskmasters who did not tolerate excuses or prolonged explanations. They only wanted to know how and why something did not get done. My tasks were not difficult ones, helping with the dishes, taking out the garbage, and walking the dog were typical of what was expected but I was expected to do them and to do them without being reminded. Being reminded was the same as not doing them so there was no advantage in procrastination. Unfortunately, this pattern has not carried over to my adult life but I still can hear both of my parents preaching to me the values of responsibility and timeliness. I still carry the guilt.
Being only recently married and still childless, I have thought very little about the values from my own childhood that I would like to instill in my own children. I strongly believe that my parents were wonderful and that I never felt unloved or unwanted at any point in my childhood. They made me feel like I had value and that I was capable of doing whatever it was I wanted to do in life. I guess, reflecting upon it now, that I hope that I can instill the same feelings in my own children. I hope I can make them realize the value of family, hard work, and honesty. My parents never had any great dreams of accomplishing anything other than to live by the values that they had been taught by their parents and, I guess, that is all that I want for my children as well.
As comfortable as I was growing up in the home with my parents, I was never comfortable growing up in the small town atmosphere that my home town provided. From the time that I first began going to school and learning about things outside my hometown I wanted to experience life somewhere different. It did not matter where this somewhere different was. I just wanted to be there. My hometown seemed so small, so limiting and I wanted to be part of the larger picture and not stuck knowing the few square miles that represented my home town. I wanted to be able to see movies when they first came out and not months later. I wanted to eat at nice restaurants and not the local diner. I wanted to experience the hustle and bustle of the big city and not the quiet sameness of my little town. These desires inspired me to read constantly as a young child but they also caused me to dream of a life beyond the confines of my comfortable home. Neither of my parents ever understood this desire but, to their credit, they never discouraged me either. I believe that they wished that I could be comfortable in my home town but they always encouraged me to follow my heart.
School for me served as my gateway to the rest of the world. My parents lacked the resources for us to vacation anywhere beyond the confines of my grandparent's lake cottage and, therefore, what I knew of the world came from school and what I managed to read on my own. The rest of the world seemed to be so exciting and full of new experiences and I soaked up as much information from my teachers and what they had to teach me about the world outside my home town. From the first grade on I excelled in school because I viewed it as my way to the big city. Interestingly, seemingly everyone else in my class of 60 students felt the same way I did about living in our small town. From junior high on that is about all anyone talked about. The only difference in the conversation was how each of us would get it done. Some chose college, some chose the service, while...
American Indians struggled against the oppression of the White Man for nearly another seventy years but Chief Black Hawk's 1832 surrender speech epitomizes the frustration felt by the various tribes that once dominated the American landscape. From text of this speech, Kent State history professor, Phillip Weeks, drew the title for his book, Farewell, My Nation (Weeks, 2000). To his fellow Sac and Fox tribesmen, Chief Black Hawk stated,
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