PLACES TO WORK
I guess everyone’s ideas about places to work are shaped by early experiences. Thus I imaged a small parochial school as the ideal place to work. After all, that is what my father did and I idolized everything about him. But there were other places that stirred my imagination. My uncle and aunt ran the general store and it seemed very attractive to me to be behind a counter, preferably next to the chewing gum and candy. The local bank was owned by my uncle and it seemed quite sophisticated and easy to be a banker, but that attraction was tempered by the threat of bank robberies. It was the 1930’s and to this day I believe that Bonnie and Clyde checked out that bank. I quickly ruled out imitating my cousin who ran the garage because I knew nothing about fixing cars. And the welding, plow sharpening and horse shoeing that was done at the blacksmith shop by still another uncle came close to frightening me.
During the summer we picked cotton, responding to my father’s urging “In the field by sun-up!” I knew I didn’t want to do that. It was too hot and my hands moved way too slowly. I suffered the embarrassment of even my sister being able to pick more pounds of cotton in a day than I. It wasn’t much better at my Aunt Elizabeth’s chicken farm where my main task was scraping and carting off chicken droppings.
It was good that another set of cousins ran a country store and butcher shop. Restocking shelves was quite easy. Milking the cows allowed a lot of time for quiet reflection. De-worming wounds in the skin of sheep helped create empathy for all four-footed living things; even though every Thursday found me assisting in the butchering of many of them.
Later I got promoted to being a waiter after being the guy who peeled bucket after bucket of potatoes and carrots at Wukash Brother Cafe just off the campus of the University of Texas. That brought me close to fame as I stayed at the same rooming house as Bobby Layne who later became a famous Detroit Lion quarterback
After graduation from college I had an incredible string of great places to work. St. Paul Lutheran School in Tracy, CA with less than 100 pupils but a great supportive bunch of parents. The opportunity to open a new school in Glendale, Calif. Then on to Hong Kong which took me to the most fascinating places in the world to work from squatter huts on hillsides to the Queen’s birthday celebration at the Governor’s mansion…always with the great kindness of supportive and competent Chinese colleagues. Then a year long USA tour giving a missionary slide lectures, but also taking time to witness and reflect on those 17 Lutheran schools for blacks in a completely segregated South. Later work just added places and opportunities for testimony, teaching, worshiping and work-shopping all over the world including places as divergent as Helsinki and Karachi. Still it hasn’t stopped. I just returned from a month of teaching opportunities in six cities in South China. And almost every Sunday morning gives me a wonderful platform for teaching; the Adult Class at Calvary Lutheran Church in Solana Beach, California.
As I today read the paper and listen to colleagues mourn their unemployment or even being stuck in a place of work offering little reward beyond take home pay I am forever grateful for all those varied and wonderful places to work which mark the important milestones in my life.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Places To Do Things (Part I)
I grew up in a small Lutheran congregation- owned teacherage (a teacherage is the home a congregation supplied for its parochial school teacher: just like it supplied a parsonage for its parson.) My home was a part of a several-acres complex which included a parish school, a parsonage, a teacherage, a cemetery, a couple of barns and two plots for vegetable gardens. It was located about a mile from the nearest town (Walburg, Texas) which advertised itself as having a “population of 87 friendly people and one old grouch”.
From my perspective this location provided everything I would ever need to live a happy and productive life, food for body and soul, good people, fun, a medical doctor who carried his little black bag as he visited those who needed him. Any food needed could be grown within walking distance of where it would be consumed, The church, its school, a country store and a saloon supplied all one needed for body and soul, sickness and health, fun and hope. All in all a great place to grow up. Yet I moved on from there to places never dreamed of even when I climbed that big tree in my back yard, stared into that vast Texas expanse of blue and pondered my future.
In the next several blogs I want to reflect on that place and the other places to which my life took me.
PLACES TO EAT As I was growing up eating was, of course, a necessity. But it was also more than that. It was family time, prayer time, teaching time, enjoyment time, family devotions time, social life time. My mouth waters at just the memory of my mother’s fried chicken prepared from roosters freshly slaughtered and fried in lard, mashed potatoes with country cream gravy, fresh corn on the cob, homemade bread, fresh peach cobbler. All of this washed down with sweet iced tea. Nero or Chinese emperors never ate better.
In the days of my youth there were other wonderful places to eat. Although I never ate in a restaurant until well into my teen years, special eating places included wedding bar-b-ques, Even during the depression there was a big feast in connection with any wedding. After the church ceremony we went to the farm home of the bride. There beer and bar-b-que and all the trimmings (especially home made noodles) awaited us, all in sequence. Beer was served by men adorned in white aprons, carrying pitchers and glasses. The bar-b-que, of course came from beef raised just for that wedding celebration and bar-b-qued in pits dug especially for the event. Occasionally the beef was supplemented by a hog or two and once in a great while even by mutton or goat meat; but goat was definitely a third choice. I don’t remember ever having chicken bar-b-que at a wedding as that was reserved for other special meals. The dining tables were long tables all arranged in a big tent made from farm tarpaulins erected especially for the wedding.
There was a definite sequence for seating and serving of guests. They were served in the following order: first the men and the wedding party, then the children and lastly the women. The reception would go on well into the night. As it got closer to midnight the chivary took place with the men banging on plowshares, oil drums, and any other metal that could be found on the farm. They were served their due portion of beer until it was time for “midnight lunch”. That was late at night and included sandwiches and cake. Somewhere in between all this the bride cut and served the wedding cake. No one went home hungry. (Maybe I was too young to notice, but I have no memory of anyone ever getting drunk at these events. Nor do I have any memory of any wine being served.)
The social life of the community centered around family events - baptisms, confirmations, birthdays, marriages, wedding anniversaries and funerals. Each had its prescribed food rituals. One thing was key: there must always be more than just enough. It was all home-made and certain residents became identified as the “best in their field". e.g. a family was famous for its bar-b-que, a woman for her angel food cake, another for her potato salad, another for bread and butter pickles, etc. Glorious!
Later years brought other and very different places at which to eat. I have moved to many wonderful places where having food was more than mere sustenance. Elegant places like Ghaddis in the Peninsula Hotel in Hong Kong and Windows of the World in New York Twin Towers. Incredible ethnic food included samples from most of the eight major groups of Chinese, all over China, African chicken at the Pusada Inn in Macau, reindeer tartar in Helsinki, charusco in Porto Allegro Brazil, hearty beef borscht in Russia, marvelous hot, yellow mutton curry in Karachi and red curry vegetables in New Delhi, smorgasbords with touches that are just a little different whether in Denmark, Sweden or Norway, tapas in the street-side café’s of Barcelona, jaeger schnitzel in Bonn, and even tacos on the streets of Ensenada. What variety, sensations, subtle hints and mouth-opening flavors, each telling a bit about the place where it was being consumed, always inviting me to try just a little bit more. No wonder even heaven is described as the place where an endless feast will be available!
From my perspective this location provided everything I would ever need to live a happy and productive life, food for body and soul, good people, fun, a medical doctor who carried his little black bag as he visited those who needed him. Any food needed could be grown within walking distance of where it would be consumed, The church, its school, a country store and a saloon supplied all one needed for body and soul, sickness and health, fun and hope. All in all a great place to grow up. Yet I moved on from there to places never dreamed of even when I climbed that big tree in my back yard, stared into that vast Texas expanse of blue and pondered my future.
In the next several blogs I want to reflect on that place and the other places to which my life took me.
PLACES TO EAT As I was growing up eating was, of course, a necessity. But it was also more than that. It was family time, prayer time, teaching time, enjoyment time, family devotions time, social life time. My mouth waters at just the memory of my mother’s fried chicken prepared from roosters freshly slaughtered and fried in lard, mashed potatoes with country cream gravy, fresh corn on the cob, homemade bread, fresh peach cobbler. All of this washed down with sweet iced tea. Nero or Chinese emperors never ate better.
In the days of my youth there were other wonderful places to eat. Although I never ate in a restaurant until well into my teen years, special eating places included wedding bar-b-ques, Even during the depression there was a big feast in connection with any wedding. After the church ceremony we went to the farm home of the bride. There beer and bar-b-que and all the trimmings (especially home made noodles) awaited us, all in sequence. Beer was served by men adorned in white aprons, carrying pitchers and glasses. The bar-b-que, of course came from beef raised just for that wedding celebration and bar-b-qued in pits dug especially for the event. Occasionally the beef was supplemented by a hog or two and once in a great while even by mutton or goat meat; but goat was definitely a third choice. I don’t remember ever having chicken bar-b-que at a wedding as that was reserved for other special meals. The dining tables were long tables all arranged in a big tent made from farm tarpaulins erected especially for the wedding.
There was a definite sequence for seating and serving of guests. They were served in the following order: first the men and the wedding party, then the children and lastly the women. The reception would go on well into the night. As it got closer to midnight the chivary took place with the men banging on plowshares, oil drums, and any other metal that could be found on the farm. They were served their due portion of beer until it was time for “midnight lunch”. That was late at night and included sandwiches and cake. Somewhere in between all this the bride cut and served the wedding cake. No one went home hungry. (Maybe I was too young to notice, but I have no memory of anyone ever getting drunk at these events. Nor do I have any memory of any wine being served.)
The social life of the community centered around family events - baptisms, confirmations, birthdays, marriages, wedding anniversaries and funerals. Each had its prescribed food rituals. One thing was key: there must always be more than just enough. It was all home-made and certain residents became identified as the “best in their field". e.g. a family was famous for its bar-b-que, a woman for her angel food cake, another for her potato salad, another for bread and butter pickles, etc. Glorious!
Later years brought other and very different places at which to eat. I have moved to many wonderful places where having food was more than mere sustenance. Elegant places like Ghaddis in the Peninsula Hotel in Hong Kong and Windows of the World in New York Twin Towers. Incredible ethnic food included samples from most of the eight major groups of Chinese, all over China, African chicken at the Pusada Inn in Macau, reindeer tartar in Helsinki, charusco in Porto Allegro Brazil, hearty beef borscht in Russia, marvelous hot, yellow mutton curry in Karachi and red curry vegetables in New Delhi, smorgasbords with touches that are just a little different whether in Denmark, Sweden or Norway, tapas in the street-side café’s of Barcelona, jaeger schnitzel in Bonn, and even tacos on the streets of Ensenada. What variety, sensations, subtle hints and mouth-opening flavors, each telling a bit about the place where it was being consumed, always inviting me to try just a little bit more. No wonder even heaven is described as the place where an endless feast will be available!
Friday, September 10, 2010
College Costs: Personal Reflections
This Labor Day, as a retired Lutheran Church education minister I am reminded of the many years in which this day marked the day before another school term began. As my mind focuses on college and college costs here is what creeps into my consciousness.
GRATITUDE. I was able to attend residential prep school, college and graduate school only because of the extraordinary kindness and assistance of many others, beginning with my two elder sisters. Both of them were (and are ) very bright. Both were valedictorians of their high school class. Both were offered college scholarships. Neither went to college. Instead they went to work as household maids. The money they earned helped their kid brother (that is I) go to school!
At one stage in my schooling I received a most unusual contribution toward its cost. In the rural Texas community in which I grew up there was the custom of passing round the bride’s shoe at the wedding reception. Guests placed coins or dollar bills into it. Often that was a nice gift for the bride. However, one of the brides announced, “Instead of me keeping this money, I am going to send it to Melvin Kieschnick to help pay for his education. He is planning to be a teaching minister in the church and I want to help him!”
When I was accepted for study in grad school I was broke. A cousin loaned me the $100.00 I needed to register. When I wrote my thesis it was my wife who many nights (often beginning at midnight because of her other responsibilities), sat down and typed out the manuscript with all its complicated footnotes! (Remember, this was before computers, before even “white-out” and no erasures were allowed.
Our five kids made it through college plus three masters and two doctorates because of their incredible commitment. Of course, they worked every summer and every vacation period while in school. They took out loans. Now they are all professionally and financially secure with all loans repaid and they are investing in their own children’s college education with the proviso that those kids also work both during the summer and while in school and once they start graduate school they are on their own financially.
My gratitude extends to all those who provide scholarships for others. I am thinking of a grandparent who is funding his child’s college costs. Another friend is doing the same for his godchild. Still others set up scholarship funds simply for those who need it.
EMPATHY. Concurrently I think of kids and their parents who are really struggling to pay for college costs. I think of those who work and study and forget sleep and everything except bare necessities to pay tuition. I recall a very poor black mother in Detroit who told me she scrubbed white people’s floors so that her son could attend a Lutheran school. Another mother did the same for her son in Mississippi. That son earned his doctorate and is now helping Christian urban schools. I recall a mother who raised a few chickens next to her hillside squatter hut in Hong Kong so that he children could come to our special school for poor kids. One of those children is now a successful lawyer in New York!
PUZZLEMENT. As I reflect on the above I am puzzled by stories I hear. I hear of the high school and even college aged kids who do not work either over the summer or during the school term. They feel their college education is the sole responsibility of their parents. I am puzzled by students unwilling to take the risk of getting a college loan because they do not choose to be burdened by having to repay it; so they demand all school fees from their parents, often while they (the students) claim their inalienable right to have their own car both in high school and college.
But now I fear like I am beginning to sound like a grumpy old man and I did not get schooling to learn that. So I end saluting all the diligent students of the world and all those who make their education possible.
GRATITUDE. I was able to attend residential prep school, college and graduate school only because of the extraordinary kindness and assistance of many others, beginning with my two elder sisters. Both of them were (and are ) very bright. Both were valedictorians of their high school class. Both were offered college scholarships. Neither went to college. Instead they went to work as household maids. The money they earned helped their kid brother (that is I) go to school!
At one stage in my schooling I received a most unusual contribution toward its cost. In the rural Texas community in which I grew up there was the custom of passing round the bride’s shoe at the wedding reception. Guests placed coins or dollar bills into it. Often that was a nice gift for the bride. However, one of the brides announced, “Instead of me keeping this money, I am going to send it to Melvin Kieschnick to help pay for his education. He is planning to be a teaching minister in the church and I want to help him!”
When I was accepted for study in grad school I was broke. A cousin loaned me the $100.00 I needed to register. When I wrote my thesis it was my wife who many nights (often beginning at midnight because of her other responsibilities), sat down and typed out the manuscript with all its complicated footnotes! (Remember, this was before computers, before even “white-out” and no erasures were allowed.
Our five kids made it through college plus three masters and two doctorates because of their incredible commitment. Of course, they worked every summer and every vacation period while in school. They took out loans. Now they are all professionally and financially secure with all loans repaid and they are investing in their own children’s college education with the proviso that those kids also work both during the summer and while in school and once they start graduate school they are on their own financially.
My gratitude extends to all those who provide scholarships for others. I am thinking of a grandparent who is funding his child’s college costs. Another friend is doing the same for his godchild. Still others set up scholarship funds simply for those who need it.
EMPATHY. Concurrently I think of kids and their parents who are really struggling to pay for college costs. I think of those who work and study and forget sleep and everything except bare necessities to pay tuition. I recall a very poor black mother in Detroit who told me she scrubbed white people’s floors so that her son could attend a Lutheran school. Another mother did the same for her son in Mississippi. That son earned his doctorate and is now helping Christian urban schools. I recall a mother who raised a few chickens next to her hillside squatter hut in Hong Kong so that he children could come to our special school for poor kids. One of those children is now a successful lawyer in New York!
PUZZLEMENT. As I reflect on the above I am puzzled by stories I hear. I hear of the high school and even college aged kids who do not work either over the summer or during the school term. They feel their college education is the sole responsibility of their parents. I am puzzled by students unwilling to take the risk of getting a college loan because they do not choose to be burdened by having to repay it; so they demand all school fees from their parents, often while they (the students) claim their inalienable right to have their own car both in high school and college.
But now I fear like I am beginning to sound like a grumpy old man and I did not get schooling to learn that. So I end saluting all the diligent students of the world and all those who make their education possible.
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