Memorial Day

Those soldiers, sailors, and Marines who gave their lives for their country would want us to enjoy Memorial Day weekend: they fought for that right along with so many others.  But, Memorial Weekend is not just the “beginning of summer” as it has unfortunately become in the media and advertising.  This is no more clearly indicated than in the oxymoronic greeting, “Happy Memorial Day!” all over the media and even in local communities.  People wishing others a “Happy Memorial Day” do not mean to further wound people who have in fact lost their loved ones in war–but they do.  That greeting indicates unconsciousness about the history of Memorial Day and what it actually commemorates.

My beautiful Michael laid down his life defending his squad in Vietnam, August 28, 1969.  He loved people, who returned his love many fold.  He played the guitar, wrote poetry, and sketched.  He even sent a sketch home–a sailboat he was longing to sail again.  He was a philosophy major who wanted to come home to finish his degree and go on to graduate school, becoming a college teacher. Michael was a Marine, whose letters were filled with love for his family and longing to come home to Houston.  But his letters were also filled with admiration for the beauty of Vietnam and its people.  He had hoped  to be promoted to Sergeant, to be pulled from the front lines after his last mission, and to be trained as an interpreter, working with the Vietnamese people.

Instead, during a major operation near Chu Lai Province, several regiments came under fierce mortar attack.  As the squad leader, he motioned his men to protective positions, then ran across the battlefield to cover his  wounded Marines with his own body and return fire on the enemy as the helicopter came in to rescue them.  Even as he saved many of their lives, he gave his own when a mortar took him even as the last of his comrades was being lifted to safety.  Among his many medals, he was awarded the Bronze Star with Combat V for valor.  But, of course, I would much rather he had come home. His love for me–and losing him–changed my life forever, and I have never stopped loving him.

I maintain a web site for Michael at https://sites.google.com/site/yuponst/home so that what he meant to his family and friends and what the world has lost in this gentle, sweet man will not be forgotten.  Michael was honored at the 2000 Memorial Day Concert in Washington DC; an exhibit in a local library to honor veterans, and in two books featuring letters written from combat sites.  Though we lost him over 40 years ago, and he missed another of his birthdays in May, he is never forgotten, and he is teaching as he wanted to through remembrances of him.

So–please take a few minutes out of the holiday to think of us, bless the memories of those who gave their lives for their country, and say a prayer in their memories.  That is what would really make us happy on this day.

The Relationships Between Reading and Writing

Generally, students who write exceptionally well also read: novels, biographies, histories, poetry, plays, sports columns, political opinions, personal interests, news articles, magazines, newspapers, etc. That doesn’t mean all readers are good writers, but it does mean it would be unusual to receive a poor essay from a person who reads regularly and follows all directions in class; it would also be unusual to receive a superlative essay from a person who says he/she has never been a regular reader.

Here’s why: people who read widely and deeply usually pick up writing skills like thesis, purpose, focus, paragraphing, syntax, vocabulary, spelling, logic, critical thinking, transitions, key words, closures—even grammar because they unconsciously ‘hear’ the language of grammar as they read. In other words, they learn about style, arguments, issues, ideas, flow and organization, rhythms, voice, and tone. They also generally follow essay assignment directions more carefully because they understand the purposes and goals from years of their own reading. People who read are almost always more comfortable writing their own essays because they are comfortable with other people’s writing from years of being immersed in reading and the flows of human thought and ideas.

I know the ‘reasons’ why many students don’t read: too busy with classes, keeping up with course texts and assignments, jobs, families, personal life etc. But you might be surprised by how much you could read in a year by picking up a book, article, or other work thirty minutes a day. You might also be surprised by how much you will learn on many topics—knowledge and independent critical thinking skills gained as an individual and citizen. You might further be surprised by how your own writing will improve, becoming more mature and enjoyable for both you and your audience. Both reading and writing skills naturally assist students’ work in other courses, on the job, employment applications, advancement in careers, helping one’s own children by providing a reading environment in the home.

Reading is fun; it is educational; it is essential in all aspects of human life. So, if you don’t currently read—start. And if you do—good job. Bottom line: Reading will always be an important and enjoyable part of your life, even enhancing your family and social relationships, as well as your chances of success in your careers and responsible citizenship in your communities and nation.

On Turning Seventy

To 5yo Joanie Who is Seventy

Michael

Michael Alan McAninch

Fact-Checking the News and Social Media

Fact-Checking the News (Print, Electronic, Television/Radio) and Social Media Stories/Rumors (Email, Internet, Facebook, Twitter, etc.)

 

We want a free press that is also accountable for publishing the truth and facts they have verified (rather than just opinions and bald-faced lies) in a sea of fake news and political commentary washing over journalism and social media. Below are links to some respected sites in journalism where you can check news articles and television/radio commentary for responsible journalism; you can also check email/internet/social media stories and claims for truth.

The Bottom Line: Don’t believe everything you read and hear or even see as absolutely true–from anyone; don’t believe something just because you’ve “always heard that” or you’ve “always been told that.” Know the difference between a story and satire. Satire is a deliberately humorous and skewed take to make a point—these pieces can be wonderful nuggets of truth underneath the humor and take sophistication on the part of the reader. In short, to ferret out actual fake news and rumors, be skeptical: check the publisher (is it a politically slanted publication?); check the writer’s credibility (he/she should provide at least a brief bio; if not, look up the writer); check the writer’s sources (does he/she provide them? Are they credible?); if someone tells you an alleged story or rumor, check the individual’s credibility: where did this person hear or read it?

Fight back against the fake news industry and sometimes irresponsible media outlets by holding them accountable. And, of course, be responsible in your own writing or claims you pass on to others. Warning: If a media outlet, journalist, politician, or other venue/individual persists in spreading fake news/rumors, refuses to fact check, denies facts and the truth when presented to them, deflects, and returns to persisting the lie is the truth, these individuals may have an agenda, and it may also be personal or political propaganda designed to fulfill that agenda, which you must be ready to call out with facts you have researched from credible sources. If we all work hard at this, we can help the Press be the accountable force for truth most journalists sincerely wish to be–and we all need.  Fact Check.

http://www.politifact.com/ [this site won the Pulitzer for journalism]

http://www.factcheck.org/

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/fact-checker/?utm_term=.a585e32f1dd5

http://www.snopes.com/ [this one for checking out email and internet ‘rumors’ etc.]

 

The Nazi Death Marches

Death Marches

The Nazi Death Marches

 

The Student

He called me “Doc”; he was young, beautiful, good-humored, and bright.  He sat in the back of the class room and delighted in challenging me–eyes twinkling, laughing when his challenges were countered, a bit comically nonplussed for a few minutes, then trying again.  He came by the classroom at end of day to borrow my books and return others, to talk about the novels–Steinbeck, Tolstoy, Austen, Bronte–and to try more challenges.  Laughing as they were met again, he would toss a wry comment over his shoulder, and trot off after a promise to return with the books, his ideas after he read them, and another challenge. He was the student who chose to test himself (and me) in serious discussions and hilarious banter that delighted us both and made me a better teacher.

Eventually, I moved on to another teaching position, and he wrote that he felt lost without his teacher to tease and talk with. But moving on is both natural and required as we set our students free to explore and discover on their own.  We hope we gave them a few  tools and helped build their confidence to take on the world.  But years later, as a college senior, he suddenly appeared again, this time in my office.  Laughing, hugging, and asking for more books, he was a revelation: the student who not only remembered but also cherished those years of sharing laughter and books. We talked again for hours, and I felt touched because it is rare that a student who moves on comes back to touch base with the teacher who was there when he was younger, testing himself, and beginning to set out on his own life.

I have not seen that student since–he had a life, family, and career to build.  But as I reflect on my teaching career–now on a retirement path–I think about the thousands I have taught, and the dozens who became friends, hoping I made a small difference in their lives because they gave so much to mine. This bright, laughing young man was the one I had the most responsibility for, who had the most trust in me, and who gave so much more back than he could have known.

It is true that teachers touch the future through their students, but students also touch teachers’ lives and are remembered for years after they have disappeared into their own lives. We remember them as they were: beautiful, smart, funny, challenging–on the thresholds of newly-minted adulthood and so precious. They become metaphors for all we do in the classroom and beyond: the truth about teaching that flows both directions between teacher and student. It is all about the students and the sacred relationships between students and teachers.

Now I approach the end of my career, as this forever young student still twinkles, challenges, and laughs from the back of the class room.  I am grateful for and blessed by this memory and those of other students whom I have also loved, miss, and remember. They are the inspiration and the sound track of my life.

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Memorial–9/11

The 20th Anniversary of Houston Sheltie Sanctuary: Nov. 4, 1998–Nov. 4, 2018

Applesauce–One of our first Rescues,
Adopted by Rosemary Hurley

The Miracle of Rescue Work and the History of Houston Sheltie Sanctuary

By Joan McAninch Samuelson, Founder with Tracy Crane

In 1996, my Tri Sheltie, Maggie Mae, died tragically at 26 months of congenital heart defect.  In my grief, I went on line to research the disease and also met many Sheltie fanciers who became friends, including Ann Acuff, director of Middle Tennessee Sheltie Rescue. They said, “when you are ready, rescue your next Sheltie and all the others after.”  I said, there is no rescue group in Houston. They replied, “go to the ASSA site and look.”  Nope; only in Dallas. They said, “talk with Dorothy Christiansen,” the National Sheltie Rescue Coordinator.

After I called her and commented that there was no Sheltie rescue in Houston, Dorothy countered, “Then start one.”  The next thing I knew I was on the national list as Sheltie rescue contact for Houston, and calls were coming in.  What do I do next, Dorothy?  “First, get the dog.”  So I got the dog: the first one I rescued was an 8yo Sable I named Toby. He had been abandoned and found by another rescuer who called me from the ASSA list.  I brought him home, bathed him, put out ads for him, took him to my vet: though he was healthy and beautiful, I never located his owner. I fostered him–and kept him—”failing” my first foster experience as many of us do. Toby lived another 7 years to the age of 12: a lovely senior gentleman who blessed my life.  Rescued animals have that gift.

For the next two years, I received many calls from people who found or needed to give up Shelties and from people who wanted to adopt them: some dogs I re-homed with colleagues at the college where I teach and others with people asking for Shelties.  But it was a slow and exacting process as I was also working full time. Then Dorothy suggested, “work with D/FW Sheltie Rescue and Becky Ramsey to get help with the dogs and organize a program.”  So during those same two years, I met Becky in Buffalo, Texas with any dogs I needed help placing—she never said no to me.  I was learning, helping dogs, and having fun, too, but I still desperately needed help.

Eventually, in 1998, Tracy Crane, also a Sheltie lover, called me: “Do you need some help?” And that is how Houston Sheltie Sanctuary was born. Tracy named the program, started the 501c3 process, opened the charity bank account, and made sure we went to our first dog show: we had a flimsy table, cardboard sign, and our personal Shelties, but we met a lot of Sheltie people and continued to learn.  Soon after, we were called by a church in spring about a terrified Sheltie they could not entice or catch in the nearby woods where he had been dumped, though he was eating food they set out.  We had teams working to rescue “the Church Sheltie” who was eventually caught by the determined Marty who was a seasoned runner and finally chased him down. She took him home and named him Rambler for his exploits; he had a blissful life in his loving home the rest of his days.

Then we rescued our first dog as Houston Sheltie Sanctuary, Nov 4, 1998. I named him KC for Kingwood College where I have taught since 1984. He had Heartworm disease, Cushing’s, and Hypothyroidism. He was underweight of course, had no coat, and was seriously compromised. My clinic, Loop 494 Animal Hospital, took him in as the first HSS Sheltie, and became our first clinic. Dorothy is known for helping fledgling rescue groups: she paid the bill for KC, and said, along with Dr. Herb, what a shame that our first official rescue was so terribly sick, but we would certainly learn a lot by the seat of our pants.  The wonderful Dr. Herb used all his skills and saved KC’s life; Tracy fostered KC: under their loving care he became healthy and beautiful, though he would be on medication the rest of his life.  In a few months we adopted him to a couple who fell in love with him and understood he would need special care. We had our first success and were thrilled.

As more dogs came into the program, Tracy and I recruited people who loved Shelties to volunteer with us. Our first  Email List was a group chat we maintained together until I discovered and set up our Yahoo Group.  Fortunately, through the years dozens more volunteers came on board and helped us continue to build the program.  We all worked hard.  Tracy was the business brains behind the operation the first year and kept us on our feet. I designed and maintained the web site with the kind help of D/FW and Southland rescues who let me use their pages as templates for our own web site. Others planned the dog shows and picnics; worked hard at funding drives; still others donated regularly; and of course the coordinators, rescuers, foster and adoptive homes made it all possible.  

The founding of HSS happened as so many rescue groups do: individuals who want to help homeless and abused animals–in this case one woman encouraged into rescue work and helped by Dorothy, Ann, and Becky; joined by another woman who was doing this work while raising her daughter but wanted to help. Still more people, including Linda, Connie, Dawn, Jean, Darlene and so many others, took leadership positions, gave of their time, ideas, talent, and energy in every capacity rescue groups need. Tracy left after the first year because her daughter needed her, but I have never forgotten her or her vital role in this program.  Thank you, Tracy: that first phone call from you made HSS possible.

Congratulations to all those working in the program today: the hardworking, talented membership has expanded remarkably and added tremendous funding activities, Facebook page, expanded booths at the dogs shows, dozens of foster homes, beautiful tee shirts, calendars, and more achievements to its success as a professional rescue organization that does them proud.  The result of everyone’s efforts is that HSS has now saved well over a thousand Shelties in Houston since Toby, Rambler, and KC first needed rescue help in those humble beginnings.

Though after 14 years of rescue work since 1996, I retired from its rigors for personal and health reasons, the Houston Sheltie Sanctuary story and the dogs saved will always be precious to me.  I congratulate HSS on the program’s 20th year and all the people who continue to make it one of the largest and most successful breed rescue programs in the nation. I hope additional volunteers continue to join, support, and donate to HSS for many more years as others helped me and Tracy found the program and establish its traditions those twenty years ago that are still enjoyed today.

Photo of one of the earliest picnics in the Woodlands, 2000, Joan on the far left, Linda and Connie in the center.

Women’s Rights Are Human Rights: Texas Men Explain Why So Many Are Joining The Fight

Women’s Rights Are Human Rights: Texas Men Explain Why So Many Are Joining The Fight.