My colleague Tago Mharapara entertained us at a recent CMS holiday gathering with stories about the First-Year Symposium he teaches. In an effort to provoke discussion about the concept of counter arguments, he had placed a glass half filled with water on his desk and asked the students in his 8 a.m. class to describe what they saw.
Then he waited. And he waited some more. Finally, one groggy student who could stand the silence no longer ventured, “a glass of water.”
“Good,” Tago answered. “What else?”
More silence. Eventually, an enterprising student offered that the glass was half empty.
Both observations were correct, of course. The difference was a matter of perspective.
It was one of those aha! moments teachers live for, and Tago proceeded to lead a discussion about different points of view.
His story prompted me to go around the table asking individuals whether they see the glass half empty or half full.
Greg Hoye said he sees a half-full glass. No surprise there. Greg can find the bright side of a power outage during a blizzard. A fireside, candlelit dinner with tuna tartare would be his first thought. On the flip side, he claimed his wife Roxanne can rattle off the downside of any situation, and there you have it, a well-balanced marriage.
Ben Besasie, our student employee, said he used the half-empty, half-full theme in his bar mitzvah speech. He and the other two students at our table all chose the half-full option. Again, no surprise. They are young and talented, and the world is full of opportunities. My colleague Barbara Hein quipped that she saw the glass as half full when she was their age, but now sees it as half empty.
For Tago – ever the analyst – the answer depends on the circumstances.
As for me, I see a half-full glass, or, as my dear husband said later that evening, a glass overflowing. Fair enough, and I put him in the same category as Roxanne. No downside escapes his notice. There you have it again – another well-balanced marriage. Each partner can see what the other does not.
Both perspectives are necessary to see the whole. That is what we want our students to discover, that what they see depends on perspective and that the perspectives of others have value.
As we lift our glasses in Christmas cheer this holiday season, let us clink a toast to the other’s perspective for the coming year. There is room in the glass for all points of view.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Bewitched, Bewildered
I am not a witch. Nor have I ever practiced aqua-Buddhism. Clearly I am qualified to run for the U.S. Senate.
Is it just me, or does this electoral season seem surreal? I have been wondering what we mean by leadership. What qualities do we expect of those in whom we entrust authority and power? How do we measure or assess those qualities? Is leadership intentional, or situational?
The 33 miners trapped a half mile underground in Chile elected a leader while they awaited rescue from entombment. Their survival depended on his temperament, judgment and wisdom, his ability to assess, build consensus, make decisions and inspire confidence.
Are we to imagine candidates for that responsibility gave stump speeches and smeared each other with coal dust? What would happen if, when we entered the voting booth, we voted as if our survival depended on the outcome?
Lately, I have been thinking about leadership, for reasons other than the onslaught of political campaign messages that litter the landscape, the airwaves, the mailbox and the e-mailbox. I am a participant in the 2010-2011 St. Cloud Area Chamber of Commerce Leadership Program. This nine-month program brings together 25-30 participants for monthly sessions on issues of importance to our region’s future success.
Participants represent a diverse array of business, educational and nonprofit enterprises. I daresay political views range across the spectrum. What we share in common is an interest in our community, openness to personal and professional development, and a willingness to consider how we might work as individuals or in teams to address community issues.
CSB President MaryAnn Baenninger gave the keynote address at our kick-off session in September. She spoke of obstacles she overcame as she discovered and developed her gifts for leadership. In one pivotal moment, she found inspiration from a bumper sticker on a garbage truck: “Fear is not an option.”
You never know where you will find words of wisdom, but MaryAnn recognized them when she saw them, and she adopted them as her personal motto.
At the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University, we speak about preparing our students for leadership in society, and we provide a variety of avenues for students to discover their gifts and learn how to use them for the common good. This is an area I plan to explore in the coming months. It’s an ongoing conversation I have with the student employee in my office, and I hope to extend the conversation to my colleagues.
Meanwhile, I hope our students are not disillusioned by our national obsession with the occult. As for me, this Halloween, I plan to dress up as a political candidate, complete with pointy hat, broomstick and cackle.
Is it just me, or does this electoral season seem surreal? I have been wondering what we mean by leadership. What qualities do we expect of those in whom we entrust authority and power? How do we measure or assess those qualities? Is leadership intentional, or situational?
The 33 miners trapped a half mile underground in Chile elected a leader while they awaited rescue from entombment. Their survival depended on his temperament, judgment and wisdom, his ability to assess, build consensus, make decisions and inspire confidence.
Are we to imagine candidates for that responsibility gave stump speeches and smeared each other with coal dust? What would happen if, when we entered the voting booth, we voted as if our survival depended on the outcome?
Lately, I have been thinking about leadership, for reasons other than the onslaught of political campaign messages that litter the landscape, the airwaves, the mailbox and the e-mailbox. I am a participant in the 2010-2011 St. Cloud Area Chamber of Commerce Leadership Program. This nine-month program brings together 25-30 participants for monthly sessions on issues of importance to our region’s future success.
Participants represent a diverse array of business, educational and nonprofit enterprises. I daresay political views range across the spectrum. What we share in common is an interest in our community, openness to personal and professional development, and a willingness to consider how we might work as individuals or in teams to address community issues.
CSB President MaryAnn Baenninger gave the keynote address at our kick-off session in September. She spoke of obstacles she overcame as she discovered and developed her gifts for leadership. In one pivotal moment, she found inspiration from a bumper sticker on a garbage truck: “Fear is not an option.”
You never know where you will find words of wisdom, but MaryAnn recognized them when she saw them, and she adopted them as her personal motto.
At the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University, we speak about preparing our students for leadership in society, and we provide a variety of avenues for students to discover their gifts and learn how to use them for the common good. This is an area I plan to explore in the coming months. It’s an ongoing conversation I have with the student employee in my office, and I hope to extend the conversation to my colleagues.
Meanwhile, I hope our students are not disillusioned by our national obsession with the occult. As for me, this Halloween, I plan to dress up as a political candidate, complete with pointy hat, broomstick and cackle.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Attack of the Giant Zucchini
My nightmare after a visit to the farmers’ market is not about being squashed by a gigantic mutant zucchini. It is that the super-sized green monsters will flood the market, and I won’t be able to find the sweet, tiny ones I prefer. Of course, in the event of an actual flood, I could use the giant zucchini as a canoe.
I have been a regular shopper at farmers’ markets for decades, in four states. Not until I came to Minnesota have I encountered zucchini of such ample length and girth. What’s next? Giant okra pods? Yes, I fear it may be so. We have approached the tipping point for ideal okra-pod size, and the prospects are grim, if giant zucchini become the standard on the vegetable growth chart.
At the market’s lone booth that offered okra for sale, I saw pods ranging in size from the preferred finger length to six inches co-mingling in each carton. Since farmers’ markets are celebrated as an arena where buyers and venders can interact, I decided to speak up and nip the vegetable gigantism trend in the bud.
“I wonder if I might suggest you consider harvesting okra when it is finger length, instead of the bigger pods, which can be woody,” I said in my best imitation of Minnesota nice.
“Different people have different tastes,” she shot back. “Some people like the bigger ones.”
(Excuse me? Maybe if you’re a rodent!) Somewhere inside my brain those words screamed for expression. I resisted. But my shocked double take and look of disbelief were involuntary. She assured me she had researched okra size on the internet. While I don’t doubt her, if she tried eating okra – as I have done all my life – she would not need to rely on the internet.
We compromised. She removed the giant, woody okra pods from the carton and replaced them with smaller ones. I said no more about the quality of her harvest.
The “buy local” campaign came to mind last Wednesday at the CSB and SJU All Campus Community Forum at Gorecki Conference Center at CSB, when we kicked off a Year of Sustainability. It looks to be an intense year, as we learn from each other how we can live in a more earth-friendly way.
The issues and personalities are complex – a blooming profusion of scientific facts, opinions, beliefs, myths, values, personal habits, social mores, cultural norms, idealists, crusaders, naysayers, skeptics, gadflies and the occasional law of unintended consequences. Let us not forget that the automobile once was considered the answer to pollution on the streets of New York City, where horses trod. This year could put to the test the Benedictine art of listening.
Should be fun, as long as we guard against the attack of the giant zucchini.
I have been a regular shopper at farmers’ markets for decades, in four states. Not until I came to Minnesota have I encountered zucchini of such ample length and girth. What’s next? Giant okra pods? Yes, I fear it may be so. We have approached the tipping point for ideal okra-pod size, and the prospects are grim, if giant zucchini become the standard on the vegetable growth chart.
At the market’s lone booth that offered okra for sale, I saw pods ranging in size from the preferred finger length to six inches co-mingling in each carton. Since farmers’ markets are celebrated as an arena where buyers and venders can interact, I decided to speak up and nip the vegetable gigantism trend in the bud.
“I wonder if I might suggest you consider harvesting okra when it is finger length, instead of the bigger pods, which can be woody,” I said in my best imitation of Minnesota nice.
“Different people have different tastes,” she shot back. “Some people like the bigger ones.”
(Excuse me? Maybe if you’re a rodent!) Somewhere inside my brain those words screamed for expression. I resisted. But my shocked double take and look of disbelief were involuntary. She assured me she had researched okra size on the internet. While I don’t doubt her, if she tried eating okra – as I have done all my life – she would not need to rely on the internet.
We compromised. She removed the giant, woody okra pods from the carton and replaced them with smaller ones. I said no more about the quality of her harvest.
The “buy local” campaign came to mind last Wednesday at the CSB and SJU All Campus Community Forum at Gorecki Conference Center at CSB, when we kicked off a Year of Sustainability. It looks to be an intense year, as we learn from each other how we can live in a more earth-friendly way.
The issues and personalities are complex – a blooming profusion of scientific facts, opinions, beliefs, myths, values, personal habits, social mores, cultural norms, idealists, crusaders, naysayers, skeptics, gadflies and the occasional law of unintended consequences. Let us not forget that the automobile once was considered the answer to pollution on the streets of New York City, where horses trod. This year could put to the test the Benedictine art of listening.
Should be fun, as long as we guard against the attack of the giant zucchini.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Summery Surprises and Observations
The annual increase in summer travel raises the possibilities for chance encounters.
While vacationing in July on the north shore of Lake Superior, I struck up a conversation with a husband and wife. When they found out I work at the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University, the woman threw her head back and laughed. “Our son graduated from Saint John’s in 2009.”
Then, without any prompting from me, she raved about what a great experience her son, Stashie Mack, had and about his wonderful professors. She mentioned two by name – Sanford Moskowitz, assistant professor of management, and Ozzie Mayers, professor of English. Sanford was a great mentor to Stashie, his mom said, and continues to offer guidance and support. In Ozzie’s first-year symposium, Stashie labored mightily and griped to his parents about his demanding, hard-to-please professor. A few years later, commenting on how much his writing had improved, and he told his parents he was lucky to have had such a fine professor.
Random compliments are the best, especially unsolicited ones.
Another summer surprise arrived late on a Friday afternoon. I was the last to leave my office, getting ready to shut down the computer, when my former student John F. O’Sullivan, class of ’08, sauntered in looking snappy in a lavender dress shirt.
Now residing in Wales, John was in the U.S. for an extended visit and on campus for a wedding scheduled the following day at the abbey church. John was a student in a media writing class I taught. I am happy to report he is still writing, in a blog about living abroad, http://johnfosullivan.com/. His blog is building an online presence, with 25,000 average page views per month. That’s no surprise. He is a fearless writer with a genuine voice and an interesting point of view. John is a people magnet, and he is well connected with Johnnies and Bennies on Facebook. I have joined his fan base.
U.S. media went overboard (no surprise there) on the story about the arrests of Russian spies. OK, I get that the story has a certain intrigue, but many of the pundits regressed to their younger years during the Cold War, when James Bond and Mad Magazine somehow fused espionage with glamour, absurdity and high-tech gadgetry in the public imagination. As a result, these pundits had lots to talk about but little to say.
Enter Nick Hayes, professor of history and University Chair in Critical Thinking. Nick writes a regular column for MinnPost, and, in his July 12 post, he offers informed commentary on the spy scandal that veers off the path traveled by pack journalists. http://www.minnpost.com/nickhayes/2010/07/12/19604/spy_scandal_we_havent_heard_the_last_laugh_yet?utm_source=MinnPost+e-mail+newsletters&utm_campaign=1d7f7da5f8-07_12_2010_The_Latest_from_MinnPost_com7_12_2010&utm_medium=email
Spotted around CSB campus: Marian Diaz delivered the keynote address to the Association for Student Affairs at Catholic Colleges and Universities during the association’s annual conference, held July 28-31, at CSB and SJU. Marian served as director of Companions on a Journey at CSB and the Vocation Project at SJU before leaving with her family to live in Rome, where her husband, CSB/SJU and SOT associate professor of theology Migual Diaz, now serves as U.S. ambassador to the Vatican.
Marian spoke about vocation-related work in higher education and its implications for the mission of Catholic higher education. She also spoke with a reporter from the St. Cloud Times about life in Rome. http://www.sctimes.com/article/20100731/NEWS01/107310015/-1/archives/Vactican-ambassador-s-wife-describes-new-life-in-Rome- .
It’s tomato season in my kitchen garden, and that means only one thing (aside from my all-you-can-eat tomatoes all-the-time August menu) – the return of the students.
While vacationing in July on the north shore of Lake Superior, I struck up a conversation with a husband and wife. When they found out I work at the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University, the woman threw her head back and laughed. “Our son graduated from Saint John’s in 2009.”
Then, without any prompting from me, she raved about what a great experience her son, Stashie Mack, had and about his wonderful professors. She mentioned two by name – Sanford Moskowitz, assistant professor of management, and Ozzie Mayers, professor of English. Sanford was a great mentor to Stashie, his mom said, and continues to offer guidance and support. In Ozzie’s first-year symposium, Stashie labored mightily and griped to his parents about his demanding, hard-to-please professor. A few years later, commenting on how much his writing had improved, and he told his parents he was lucky to have had such a fine professor.
Random compliments are the best, especially unsolicited ones.
Another summer surprise arrived late on a Friday afternoon. I was the last to leave my office, getting ready to shut down the computer, when my former student John F. O’Sullivan, class of ’08, sauntered in looking snappy in a lavender dress shirt.
Now residing in Wales, John was in the U.S. for an extended visit and on campus for a wedding scheduled the following day at the abbey church. John was a student in a media writing class I taught. I am happy to report he is still writing, in a blog about living abroad, http://johnfosullivan.com/. His blog is building an online presence, with 25,000 average page views per month. That’s no surprise. He is a fearless writer with a genuine voice and an interesting point of view. John is a people magnet, and he is well connected with Johnnies and Bennies on Facebook. I have joined his fan base.
U.S. media went overboard (no surprise there) on the story about the arrests of Russian spies. OK, I get that the story has a certain intrigue, but many of the pundits regressed to their younger years during the Cold War, when James Bond and Mad Magazine somehow fused espionage with glamour, absurdity and high-tech gadgetry in the public imagination. As a result, these pundits had lots to talk about but little to say.
Enter Nick Hayes, professor of history and University Chair in Critical Thinking. Nick writes a regular column for MinnPost, and, in his July 12 post, he offers informed commentary on the spy scandal that veers off the path traveled by pack journalists. http://www.minnpost.com/nickhayes/2010/07/12/19604/spy_scandal_we_havent_heard_the_last_laugh_yet?utm_source=MinnPost+e-mail+newsletters&utm_campaign=1d7f7da5f8-07_12_2010_The_Latest_from_MinnPost_com7_12_2010&utm_medium=email
Spotted around CSB campus: Marian Diaz delivered the keynote address to the Association for Student Affairs at Catholic Colleges and Universities during the association’s annual conference, held July 28-31, at CSB and SJU. Marian served as director of Companions on a Journey at CSB and the Vocation Project at SJU before leaving with her family to live in Rome, where her husband, CSB/SJU and SOT associate professor of theology Migual Diaz, now serves as U.S. ambassador to the Vatican.
Marian spoke about vocation-related work in higher education and its implications for the mission of Catholic higher education. She also spoke with a reporter from the St. Cloud Times about life in Rome. http://www.sctimes.com/article/20100731/NEWS01/107310015/-1/archives/Vactican-ambassador-s-wife-describes-new-life-in-Rome- .
It’s tomato season in my kitchen garden, and that means only one thing (aside from my all-you-can-eat tomatoes all-the-time August menu) – the return of the students.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Community Forum, Multitasking and the Art of Packing
Finally, the value of multitasking as a superior skill has been exposed as a sham. As it turns out, the brain actually does only one thing at a time. Some people, like Vivian Krueger, office coordinator in the Communication and Marketing Office, may appear to be multitasking, but they merely are both fast and efficient.
I am neither, which explains how I wound up in Europe with a near empty suitcase for a 10-day tour of Benedictine sites in Italy and Germany, sponsored by the Benedictine Institute at Saint John’s.
I tend to over pack for trips. I think of all sorts of contingencies – changes in weather, occasions ranging from casual to cocktail hour, hiking, whatever – and pack accordingly. For the European tour, I was determined to minimize my inclinations, rein them in. I took notes during our preparatory meetings; I found articles on efficient packing written by seasoned travelers; I compiled lists; I went shopping for sensible shoes, capris and short-sleeved shirts. (We had been advised that shorts and sleeveless tops were inappropriate attire for the holy sites we would visit.)
The morning of our departure was a bit more hectic than I anticipated. I couldn’t find the suitcase I wanted and spent a lot of time searching closets and crannies. The phone kept ringing while I went about packing for all sorts of contingencies. I had misplaced my notes and articles on efficient packing (I found them after I returned from Europe.) I’m not sure I consulted the most comprehensive of my lists.
Despite these obstacles, I finished packing and was impressed with how much room I had left in my suitcase for souvenirs. I lifted it – well under the weight limit, I thought with smug satisfaction.
Later, around 3 a.m., somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I had the strangest thought. It seemed to bubble up from some remote, subconscious area of my brain – the thought that I had forgotten to pack most of my clothes. Noooooooo, I thought. That can’t be. To paraphrase Obama, “Yes, it can!” I had been so distracted while multitasking and focusing on minutiae, I had forgotten to pack the snappy new outfits I had purchased. For the 10-day trip, I had the clothes I was wearing, 3 pairs of capris and 2 shirts, underwear and socks, thank goodness, and, of course, 3 pairs of sensible shoes. My travel-mates had difficulty grasping the fact that I had forgotten to pack most of my clothes. They may even have made comments behind my back, but they were kind enough to lend me some extra shirts and laundry detergent.
All this is to point out the perils of multitasking, and that reminds me of the upcoming annual CSB/SJU All-Campus Community Forum and Faculty Workshop, Aug. 18 and 19, respectively. It’s that wonderful time of year when we return refreshed from summer wanderings, on the threshold of a new academic year, when we see familiar faces and welcome new ones, and when we slip from our silos and multitasking do-lists, and focus on our priorities.
And for that, I don’t have to pack!
I am neither, which explains how I wound up in Europe with a near empty suitcase for a 10-day tour of Benedictine sites in Italy and Germany, sponsored by the Benedictine Institute at Saint John’s.
I tend to over pack for trips. I think of all sorts of contingencies – changes in weather, occasions ranging from casual to cocktail hour, hiking, whatever – and pack accordingly. For the European tour, I was determined to minimize my inclinations, rein them in. I took notes during our preparatory meetings; I found articles on efficient packing written by seasoned travelers; I compiled lists; I went shopping for sensible shoes, capris and short-sleeved shirts. (We had been advised that shorts and sleeveless tops were inappropriate attire for the holy sites we would visit.)
The morning of our departure was a bit more hectic than I anticipated. I couldn’t find the suitcase I wanted and spent a lot of time searching closets and crannies. The phone kept ringing while I went about packing for all sorts of contingencies. I had misplaced my notes and articles on efficient packing (I found them after I returned from Europe.) I’m not sure I consulted the most comprehensive of my lists.
Despite these obstacles, I finished packing and was impressed with how much room I had left in my suitcase for souvenirs. I lifted it – well under the weight limit, I thought with smug satisfaction.
Later, around 3 a.m., somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I had the strangest thought. It seemed to bubble up from some remote, subconscious area of my brain – the thought that I had forgotten to pack most of my clothes. Noooooooo, I thought. That can’t be. To paraphrase Obama, “Yes, it can!” I had been so distracted while multitasking and focusing on minutiae, I had forgotten to pack the snappy new outfits I had purchased. For the 10-day trip, I had the clothes I was wearing, 3 pairs of capris and 2 shirts, underwear and socks, thank goodness, and, of course, 3 pairs of sensible shoes. My travel-mates had difficulty grasping the fact that I had forgotten to pack most of my clothes. They may even have made comments behind my back, but they were kind enough to lend me some extra shirts and laundry detergent.
All this is to point out the perils of multitasking, and that reminds me of the upcoming annual CSB/SJU All-Campus Community Forum and Faculty Workshop, Aug. 18 and 19, respectively. It’s that wonderful time of year when we return refreshed from summer wanderings, on the threshold of a new academic year, when we see familiar faces and welcome new ones, and when we slip from our silos and multitasking do-lists, and focus on our priorities.
And for that, I don’t have to pack!
Friday, July 2, 2010
10 days in Italy and Germany
My fellow travelers and I laughed at the idea that we had to go to Rome to get to know each other. That’s part of the wisdom of the Benedictine Heritage Tour, sponsored by the Benedictine Institute of Saint John’s.
This year two groups of 12 members each made the pilgrimage to Benedictine and other holy sites in Italy and Germany. The first group went in late May. I traveled with the second group, from June 14 to June 25. Our motley lot included faculty members, administrators and support staff. This assortment representing a cross section of academic life from the two campuses, the Order of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s Abbey is by design. The idea is to clear away the barriers of workplace divisions and give people the freedom to get to know one another in the context of a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Before the trip, whenever I told friends or relatives about it, I spoke in terms of myself. I’m going to Rome; I’m going to visit holy sites in Italy and Germany. Me. Me. Me. But something happened along the way. We began to realize that the trip was more about us – collectively – than about us as individuals. We shared the experience as a group – a community of pilgrims – in a search for meaning.
S. Trish Dick, our amiable and reliable group leader, kept us on task and on schedule, when she wasn’t taking a tumble. It’s easy enough to do, walking for miles on cobblestone streets, but S. Trish began to make a habit of it. I’m not sure of the final count, but I believe it was her third fall that turned her ankle into an ugly splotchy purple nodule. The hotel staff packed the injury in ice, and she of sturdy spirit missed only one day’s outing before returning to action.
On the first day of the tour, S. Trish told us that we each had gifts that would be of value. Her comments set the tone for the mutual respect we all shared.
As a no-nonsense, bottom-line type, Norma Koetter was a natural choice to keep the accounts, especially the all-important kitty for the wine tab.
A skilled medievalist, Matt Heintzelman’s observant eye, international travel experience, language skills and depth and breadth of all matters of arcane knowledge made him a walking reference desk. He became known as Wikipediaman.
Ernie Diedrich kept tabs on environmentally sustainable practices throughout the tour. He also provided the materialistic perspective of an economist, an invaluable insight for a group intent on a spiritual mission. At breakfast, Ernie also was one to ask provocative questions, leading to spirited conversation fueled by strong coffee. He always brought a skeptic’s view and an inquisitive mind to the conversations.
In Munich, there was always a possibility that Julie Scegura might be moved to belt out a few beer drinking songs in German. While it never actually happened, the possibility made me want to stay close by. You never know what to expect with Julie.
In her day job Carol Hlebain can be seen around campus wearing a tool belt. So it was only natural that she kept a watchful eye out for tractors, to report back to her relatives in the farming profession. Her interest inspired us all to scan the horizon during countryside outings to see who could first spot a tractor.
As a college student, Jean Didier studied in Rome. Her knowledge of the city and the language enriched the group experience. She also provided vital navigation skills on a drive to and from Metten Abbey in Bavaria.
The normally reserved Sandy Dirkes gave us glimpses of her inner child, especially when she posed for a photo by sticking her head inside the mouth of a giant bronze catfish. She also revealed she is an avid Johnnie football fan. Could it be because her son, Eric, is an emerging star on the team? Eric now has a new set of cheering fans.
From my dear roommate, Bonnie Kalla, I learned about the workings of the CSB/SJU music library, a resource I have never explored. Bonnie’s frequent references to her student workers and their international study reminded us that our experience is part of a larger international emphasis on our campuses.
Mark Shimota, another quiet type, took initiative during a rare deluge to stake a place in line for the Vatican, when other tourists scurried for shelter. Also a seasoned traveler, he assisted some members of our group on a side trip to Salzburg, making sure they knew how to find their way back to Munich.
Br. David Paul Lange was best known for his leadership. He led the search for the best gelato in Rome. It was an arduous task, requiring many samples. He also led our group in our first attempt to cross the street at a busy intersection. Earlier that day we had been instructed by St. Joseph native Laurie Thavis on how to cross the street in Rome. Laurie led us on a walking tour our second day in Rome. Cross only at crosswalks, she advised. Make eye contact with the drivers and step out into oncoming traffic. (This is not for the faint hearted.) They will stop, she assured us. Still, we gasped later when Br. David Paul ventured into oncoming traffic, proving Laurie correct. The traffic did indeed stop, and the rest of us followed in his wake, like a row of little waddling ducks.
Two people who did not make the trip with us, but who were vital to its success must be mentioned. While the opinions stated above are my own, I believe the following acknowledgements reflect the sentiments of the entire group. The organizational skills of Gloria Hardy, known to all as Chick, made the logistics of moving 12 people from Minnesota to Rome, to the Italian countryside, to Munich, to the German countryside and back to Minnesota seem effortless. She made all the arrangements, the reservations, scheduled the tours and the guides. We appreciate her expertise.
Finally, throughout our tour, we offered toasts to the well being of our benefactor, the anonymous donor who established the fund for the Benedictine Heritage Tour, and whose generosity made it all possible. We are grateful.
This year two groups of 12 members each made the pilgrimage to Benedictine and other holy sites in Italy and Germany. The first group went in late May. I traveled with the second group, from June 14 to June 25. Our motley lot included faculty members, administrators and support staff. This assortment representing a cross section of academic life from the two campuses, the Order of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s Abbey is by design. The idea is to clear away the barriers of workplace divisions and give people the freedom to get to know one another in the context of a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Before the trip, whenever I told friends or relatives about it, I spoke in terms of myself. I’m going to Rome; I’m going to visit holy sites in Italy and Germany. Me. Me. Me. But something happened along the way. We began to realize that the trip was more about us – collectively – than about us as individuals. We shared the experience as a group – a community of pilgrims – in a search for meaning.
S. Trish Dick, our amiable and reliable group leader, kept us on task and on schedule, when she wasn’t taking a tumble. It’s easy enough to do, walking for miles on cobblestone streets, but S. Trish began to make a habit of it. I’m not sure of the final count, but I believe it was her third fall that turned her ankle into an ugly splotchy purple nodule. The hotel staff packed the injury in ice, and she of sturdy spirit missed only one day’s outing before returning to action.
On the first day of the tour, S. Trish told us that we each had gifts that would be of value. Her comments set the tone for the mutual respect we all shared.
As a no-nonsense, bottom-line type, Norma Koetter was a natural choice to keep the accounts, especially the all-important kitty for the wine tab.
A skilled medievalist, Matt Heintzelman’s observant eye, international travel experience, language skills and depth and breadth of all matters of arcane knowledge made him a walking reference desk. He became known as Wikipediaman.
Ernie Diedrich kept tabs on environmentally sustainable practices throughout the tour. He also provided the materialistic perspective of an economist, an invaluable insight for a group intent on a spiritual mission. At breakfast, Ernie also was one to ask provocative questions, leading to spirited conversation fueled by strong coffee. He always brought a skeptic’s view and an inquisitive mind to the conversations.
In Munich, there was always a possibility that Julie Scegura might be moved to belt out a few beer drinking songs in German. While it never actually happened, the possibility made me want to stay close by. You never know what to expect with Julie.
In her day job Carol Hlebain can be seen around campus wearing a tool belt. So it was only natural that she kept a watchful eye out for tractors, to report back to her relatives in the farming profession. Her interest inspired us all to scan the horizon during countryside outings to see who could first spot a tractor.
As a college student, Jean Didier studied in Rome. Her knowledge of the city and the language enriched the group experience. She also provided vital navigation skills on a drive to and from Metten Abbey in Bavaria.
The normally reserved Sandy Dirkes gave us glimpses of her inner child, especially when she posed for a photo by sticking her head inside the mouth of a giant bronze catfish. She also revealed she is an avid Johnnie football fan. Could it be because her son, Eric, is an emerging star on the team? Eric now has a new set of cheering fans.
From my dear roommate, Bonnie Kalla, I learned about the workings of the CSB/SJU music library, a resource I have never explored. Bonnie’s frequent references to her student workers and their international study reminded us that our experience is part of a larger international emphasis on our campuses.
Mark Shimota, another quiet type, took initiative during a rare deluge to stake a place in line for the Vatican, when other tourists scurried for shelter. Also a seasoned traveler, he assisted some members of our group on a side trip to Salzburg, making sure they knew how to find their way back to Munich.
Br. David Paul Lange was best known for his leadership. He led the search for the best gelato in Rome. It was an arduous task, requiring many samples. He also led our group in our first attempt to cross the street at a busy intersection. Earlier that day we had been instructed by St. Joseph native Laurie Thavis on how to cross the street in Rome. Laurie led us on a walking tour our second day in Rome. Cross only at crosswalks, she advised. Make eye contact with the drivers and step out into oncoming traffic. (This is not for the faint hearted.) They will stop, she assured us. Still, we gasped later when Br. David Paul ventured into oncoming traffic, proving Laurie correct. The traffic did indeed stop, and the rest of us followed in his wake, like a row of little waddling ducks.
Two people who did not make the trip with us, but who were vital to its success must be mentioned. While the opinions stated above are my own, I believe the following acknowledgements reflect the sentiments of the entire group. The organizational skills of Gloria Hardy, known to all as Chick, made the logistics of moving 12 people from Minnesota to Rome, to the Italian countryside, to Munich, to the German countryside and back to Minnesota seem effortless. She made all the arrangements, the reservations, scheduled the tours and the guides. We appreciate her expertise.
Finally, throughout our tour, we offered toasts to the well being of our benefactor, the anonymous donor who established the fund for the Benedictine Heritage Tour, and whose generosity made it all possible. We are grateful.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Making sense of the night sky
Hoagy Carmichael’s “Stardust” has such a transcendent quality, I wonder whether he was stargazing when he composed it in 1927.
The song has long been a favorite of mine, and I was reminded of it recently when I attended a talk by Dr. George V. Coyne, S.J.
Fr. Coyne served as director of the Vatican Observatory from 1978 until his recent retirement. He met with faculty and students at the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University over a two-day visit, March 18-19, and gave a public lecture at SJU’s Pellegrene Auditorium.
The lecture was well attended by students, and also attracted representatives of diverse interests from our community. I recognized professors from the sciences, of course. Professors from the humanities attended, as did a number of monks from Saint John’s Abbey, including Abbot John Klassen, who is well known for his interest in the intersection of faith and reason.
Fr. Coyne, for all his scientific brilliance, also has the ability to communicate scientific thought to a general audience in a way that does not condescend. In little more than an hour, he took us on a 13.7 billion-year journey, from the beginning of the universe to the present, in a lecture poetically titled “The Dance of the Fertile Universe: Chance and Destiny Embrace.”
As the title suggests, he explored the question: “Did we come about by chance or by necessity in the evolving universe?” To that question he added the essential quality of fertility, arguing that the fertility of the universe increases the potential for life as chance and destiny collide.
For me, the carryout message – the message I carried out to my car and carry around in my mind to this day – is this: we are the descendents of stars, or star dust, if you will – or, to paraphrase a colleague of Fr. Coyne, from thermonuclear waste.
Each time a star dies, its remains are cast off as stellar dust, rich in chemical complexity. As the universe evolved, so, too, did the chemical composition of star dust. As Fr. Coyne explained, three generations of stars were required to produce the chemical makeup of an amoeba.
Each generation of stars has escalated the possibilities for the evolution of life, to the extent that, through an exponential combination of chance and destiny, I sat one day in Pellegrene Auditorium, listening to a scientist explain our self awareness of how we came to be there, reflecting on our existence.
During the question-and-answer session, Fr. Coyne made the offhand comment that many of today’s prestigious scientists explore truth only within the confines of their specific disciplines, while ignoring insights available in music, literature, poetry, the visual arts. He thought this a sad commentary.
I agree. While I don’t pretend to grasp every nuance of Fr. Coyne’s lecture, the ideas he presented are now a part of my sense of wonder when I gaze upon the night sky, and when I listen to “Stardust.”
For the basic text of Fr. Coyne’s lecture, visit www.aei.org/docLib/20051027_HandoutCoyne.pdf
The song has long been a favorite of mine, and I was reminded of it recently when I attended a talk by Dr. George V. Coyne, S.J.
Fr. Coyne served as director of the Vatican Observatory from 1978 until his recent retirement. He met with faculty and students at the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University over a two-day visit, March 18-19, and gave a public lecture at SJU’s Pellegrene Auditorium.
The lecture was well attended by students, and also attracted representatives of diverse interests from our community. I recognized professors from the sciences, of course. Professors from the humanities attended, as did a number of monks from Saint John’s Abbey, including Abbot John Klassen, who is well known for his interest in the intersection of faith and reason.
Fr. Coyne, for all his scientific brilliance, also has the ability to communicate scientific thought to a general audience in a way that does not condescend. In little more than an hour, he took us on a 13.7 billion-year journey, from the beginning of the universe to the present, in a lecture poetically titled “The Dance of the Fertile Universe: Chance and Destiny Embrace.”
As the title suggests, he explored the question: “Did we come about by chance or by necessity in the evolving universe?” To that question he added the essential quality of fertility, arguing that the fertility of the universe increases the potential for life as chance and destiny collide.
For me, the carryout message – the message I carried out to my car and carry around in my mind to this day – is this: we are the descendents of stars, or star dust, if you will – or, to paraphrase a colleague of Fr. Coyne, from thermonuclear waste.
Each time a star dies, its remains are cast off as stellar dust, rich in chemical complexity. As the universe evolved, so, too, did the chemical composition of star dust. As Fr. Coyne explained, three generations of stars were required to produce the chemical makeup of an amoeba.
Each generation of stars has escalated the possibilities for the evolution of life, to the extent that, through an exponential combination of chance and destiny, I sat one day in Pellegrene Auditorium, listening to a scientist explain our self awareness of how we came to be there, reflecting on our existence.
During the question-and-answer session, Fr. Coyne made the offhand comment that many of today’s prestigious scientists explore truth only within the confines of their specific disciplines, while ignoring insights available in music, literature, poetry, the visual arts. He thought this a sad commentary.
I agree. While I don’t pretend to grasp every nuance of Fr. Coyne’s lecture, the ideas he presented are now a part of my sense of wonder when I gaze upon the night sky, and when I listen to “Stardust.”
For the basic text of Fr. Coyne’s lecture, visit www.aei.org/docLib/20051027_HandoutCoyne.pdf
Friday, January 15, 2010
e-Day Has Arrived
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
For various reasons, several new developments were in the works at CSB/SJU for the Web: a new home page designed to better communicate with prospective students; a new content management system to improve navigation; the conversion of the printed faculty/staff newsletter Community to its online, interactive cousin, e-Community; and a new e-Calendar.
It made sense to launch them all at the same time (Monday, January 18) – an e-Day on a massive scale -- or so we thought. The experience can best be described as sprinting through a marathon, in galoshes. I won’t dwell on the tiresome details. We survived and have moved on.
But it makes sense to recognize the many key individuals who helped make e-Day possible. In a Benedictine expression of goodwill, I applaud the following colleagues for their heroic work: techies Randy Hammond, Cathy Robak, Vinnie Dolan and Ann Alvord from CSB/SJU Information Technology Services; Heidi Ruprecht from CSB/SJU Communication and Marketing; Emily Cook from the CSB President’s Office; and Tom Voller-Berdan and Sarah Simpson from Admission. A team of Web coordinators and e-Calendar managers also has undergone training. They all have demonstrated that teamwork can cross the departmental divides for the greater good.
An award of special distinction goes to Barbara Hein, who, as CSB/SJU director of electronic communication, has provided vital leadership for all Web-related enterprises. If it is not too self-serving, I also offer kudos to my supervisor in CMS, Greg Hoye, for his positive leadership, enthusiasm and Benedictine listening. All of my CMS colleagues as well as colleagues across the campuses have provided invaluable input. Thank you.
Now, it is up to all of us to take advantage of our brave new e-world. We have an opportunity to take our communication to a new level. The interactive features and formats allow us to tell and share our stories in new ways to a variety of audiences for a variety of purposes. We are limited only by our collective imagination.
As the point person for e-Community and e-Calendar, I am available for your ideas, comments and suggestions at gburgeson@csbsju.edu or you may submit items directly to community@csbsju.edu.
For various reasons, several new developments were in the works at CSB/SJU for the Web: a new home page designed to better communicate with prospective students; a new content management system to improve navigation; the conversion of the printed faculty/staff newsletter Community to its online, interactive cousin, e-Community; and a new e-Calendar.
It made sense to launch them all at the same time (Monday, January 18) – an e-Day on a massive scale -- or so we thought. The experience can best be described as sprinting through a marathon, in galoshes. I won’t dwell on the tiresome details. We survived and have moved on.
But it makes sense to recognize the many key individuals who helped make e-Day possible. In a Benedictine expression of goodwill, I applaud the following colleagues for their heroic work: techies Randy Hammond, Cathy Robak, Vinnie Dolan and Ann Alvord from CSB/SJU Information Technology Services; Heidi Ruprecht from CSB/SJU Communication and Marketing; Emily Cook from the CSB President’s Office; and Tom Voller-Berdan and Sarah Simpson from Admission. A team of Web coordinators and e-Calendar managers also has undergone training. They all have demonstrated that teamwork can cross the departmental divides for the greater good.
An award of special distinction goes to Barbara Hein, who, as CSB/SJU director of electronic communication, has provided vital leadership for all Web-related enterprises. If it is not too self-serving, I also offer kudos to my supervisor in CMS, Greg Hoye, for his positive leadership, enthusiasm and Benedictine listening. All of my CMS colleagues as well as colleagues across the campuses have provided invaluable input. Thank you.
Now, it is up to all of us to take advantage of our brave new e-world. We have an opportunity to take our communication to a new level. The interactive features and formats allow us to tell and share our stories in new ways to a variety of audiences for a variety of purposes. We are limited only by our collective imagination.
As the point person for e-Community and e-Calendar, I am available for your ideas, comments and suggestions at gburgeson@csbsju.edu or you may submit items directly to community@csbsju.edu.
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