CLOSE
Tags Posts tagged with "D: None of the Above"

D: None of the Above

by -
0 248
Donald Triplett. Photo from Wikimedia Commons/ Ylevental, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

At a recent national meeting of experts in his field, Matthew Lerner said the gathering paused to toast the remarkable life of Donald Triplett.

Born and raised in Forest, Mississippi, Triplett died on Thursday, June 15 at the age of 89, after a full life in which his family, his community and a medical and research field around him learned about a condition he helped various communities understand.

Triplett was different from other children growing up, and in 1943, after his parents brought him to psychiatrist Dr. Leo Kanner, he became “Case 1” for a new diagnosis called autism.

“Everything we know about autism started with what was learned from Donald,” said Lerner, associate professor in Clinical Psychology at the Stony Brook Neurosciences Institute. “I’m still confident the field would have found its way to autism,” but the interaction between Triplett and Kanner helped establish some of the parameters that define a condition that researchers estimate affects about one in 36 children today.

As with people who have other diagnoses, the reaction people have to those with autism varies.

“There are two broad threads in the history of how we’ve understood, studied and treated autism since the 1940s,” said Lerner.

In one, people consider it a lifetime disability, in which the diagnosis is limiting and stigmatizing.

In the second, people see autism as a different way of being, in which individuals have an opportunity to develop a meaningful and happy life, as was the case with Triplett.

“The idea of autism as being so different and so impairing was the prototype,” Lerner said. Triplett’s life “didn’t follow that trajectory at all. He had a life filled with community in which he felt supported and accepted.”

This second model of autism, Lerner added, is achievable in “far more cases than we may have historically assumed.”

Triplett, who worked at the Bank of Forest for 65 years and traveled the world, had unusual cognitive abilities that set him apart from neurotypical people. He could multiply two three-digit numbers rapidly without a calculator. He also could look at the side of a building and could indicate the number of bricks without counting them one by one. He had perfect pitch.

As he was growing up, he didn’t interact socially in typical ways for children his age. His parents institutionalized him for a year, where he became withdrawn and disinterested. When they brought him back to their home, he became more engaged, earning a high school and bachelor’s degree in French from Millsaps College.

“He may have been the first, but he was far, far, far from the only autistic person who ended up exceeding the horizons set for him when he was young,” Lerner said.

Lerner believed people in the autistic community, like Triplett, have something to teach others about challenging circumstances.

“Kids are going to get where they are going at their own pace,” Lerner said. Being patient and kind and taking time to meet people where they are as individuals can help people grow. Lerner suggested that “we need to be okay with the idea that what that person is going to be is themselves and the best thing we can do is create a space” for that development to occur.

People will develop when they don’t feel like they are failing because people around them are setting expectations that don’t match them or are underestimating what they can do, he added.

“It’s important to feel validated and valued” through life, Lerner said.

Parents of children from a wide range of abilities sometimes hear what their offspring will never do.

People are frequently “proven wrong” by that child in that family, he added.

As for Triplett, Lerner encouraged people to watch the movie ’In a Different Key” about the person later known as Case 1.”

by -
0 151
White great pyrenese dog walking along path

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

I want to talk about dog poop.

I don’t intend to describe it, compare notes, or ponder the meaning of bending over after our dogs relieve themselves to take their excrement and dump it in our garbage cans or, perhaps, to ship it to Mars so Matt Damon will have fertilizer for a crop of potatoes.

It’s the whole picking up of the steaming logs that I’d like to address.

You see, the other day, my son and I took our 95-pound dog for a walk. Yes, bigger dogs make larger and, often, smellier poops. I know because I’ve walked smaller dogs recently and am amazed at the delicate little pebbles they gingerly push out of their smaller digestive systems.

So, there we were, the three of us, on our happy stroll, with my dog smelling everything and nothing and my son and I talking about, shocker, sports!

My dog did his thing. At that point, I reflexively leaped into action, opening a small plastic bag that I turned inside out so I didn’t have to come into contact with, you know, it.

I bagged it up, the way I always do, tied the bag twice, as is also a part of the routine, and gently lay the bag near a tree, preparing, as I have for the last five years, to retrieve the bag on my return trip.

That’s when a bald, angry, younger man honked at me from his car and threw out his hands in a frustrated “are-you-kidding-me-right-now” pose.

I shrugged and kept walking because other people’s anger, particularly when I don’t feel responsible for it, isn’t about me.

But the gentleman didn’t leave well enough alone. He circled around and found my son, my dog and me, rolled down his angry window and demanded to know if I was planning to pick up the poop.

“Yes, of course,” I said. “I’ve been walking him for five years, and I pick it up every time.”

My son seemed more than a bit amused.

“Are you the dog poop police?” he asked.

“Yes,” the man in the pickup truck replied without a touch of irony.

“Can I see your badge?” my son asked.

This was heading in the wrong direction.

“I hate it when people leave their dog’s poop all over the neighborhood,” the gentleman, who was coming across as anything but gentle, said. “Are you sure you’re going to pick it up?”

“Yes,” I said. “I always do.”

“Do people leave poop everywhere?” my son asked.

“Yes, they do,” the man said.

The stare down lasted another few minutes. Why, I thought later, would I bother to bag up his poop as if it were a holiday present if I intended to leave it? Wouldn’t I continue walking, ignoring the doggy remains of his dinner?

The man drove off. No, he didn’t spin his tires. When I picked up the bag, I looked around to see if he was hiding, waiting to catch me in a dog-faced lie.

Alas, despite the numerous pickup trucks that sped by, none looked like his truck or had his scowl leaning out of the window.

We sure are an angry and confrontational society these days, aren’t we? This man took time out of his day to confront me about a bag of poop.

I guess the good news is that he’s protecting us from dog poop scofflaws. The sad part, however, is that he figured I was prepared to bag it up and leave it behind. He didn’t know me and quickly assumed the worst.

I wonder if he feels the same level of concern for, say, the wrappers people toss out of their car windows. Does he knock on car doors to ask people sitting with their engines on to turn them off so they don’t pollute the air?

Now, that’s an idea that makes sense to me. Then again, the dog poop patrol probably made sense to him. If my dog had any idea what was happening, he’d have quite a tale to share with his canine companions.

by -
0 179
Allison McComiskey, chair of the Environmental & Climate Sciences Department at Brookhaven National Laboratory

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

The wildfires last week in Quebec, Canada, that brought an orange haze, smoke and record pollution to New York were not only disconcerting, but also were something of a reality check.

These raging fires occurred earlier than normal and, with a so-called cut-off low in Maine acting like a bumper in a pinball game driving the smoke down along the eastern seaboard, created hazardous air quality conditions from New York through Virginia.

“There’s a real concern about this intensity, the size of the fire, happening this early in the season,” said Allison McComiskey, chair of the Environmental & Climate Sciences Department at Brookhaven National Laboratory. “Typically, wildfire season starts later in the summer and extends through the fall. If we’re going to be having wildfires of this size this early in the season and it continues, [there will be] much more of an impact on people in terms of air quality, health, and well being.”

Dry conditions caused by climate change intensified the severity of these fires, making them more difficult to extinguish and increasing the amount of particulates that can cause lung and other health problems thrown into the air.

“Wildfire season is getting longer,” said Dr. Mahdieh Danesh Yazdi, an air pollution expert and environmental epidemiologist from Stony Brook’s University’s program in Public Health. These fires are “spread because we have drier conditions, the vegetation is dry, we have droughts. Those require long-term solutions of trying to tackle climate change on a fundamental level.”

The intensity of the smoke and the cancelation of events like the Yankees and Phillies games has raised awareness of the downwind dangers from wildfires.

“This is like our Hurricane Sandy from an air quality perspective,” said Brian Colle, division head in Atmospheric Sciences at the School of Marine and Atmospheric Sciences at Stony Brook University. 

Scientists urged a multi-level approach to tackle a wildfire problem that they believe will become increasingly dangerous for human health.

Forest management, including controlled burns, would reduce the available fuel for fires started by natural causes such as lightning.

“Forest management may be one approach,” said Dr. Danesh Yazdi. That alone, however, won’t solve the threat from wildfires amid higher temperatures and more frequent droughts, she added.

McComiskey added that researchers are “certain” that wildfires are going to increase in the future due to climate change and suggested that these events ratchet up the need for getting better predictive models about what these fires will mean for human health and the climate.

The heavy smoke that descended on New York, which some health officials described as creating conditions for those who spent hours outdoors that are akin to smoking several cigarettes, is “a wake up call that we need policies” to deal with the conditions that create these fires, McComiskey said.

The increase by a “fraction of a degree in temperature is really not the point,” McComiskey added. “We need to decarbonize our economy and we need to move toward addressing the bigger causes of climate change.”

A wildfire occurring earlier in the year with smoke filled with particulates could raise awareness and attention to the dangers from such events.

“Having this kind of thing happen in the East Coast through New York and [Washington] DC, as opposed to where we typically think of bad wildfire happening out west, in Washington State and the Rocky Mountains, might help in terms of the awareness and urgency to take some action,” McComiskey added.

by -
0 147
Turkana Basin Institute: Richard Leakey All photos downloaded with permission from: www.flickr.com Username: turkanabasin Password: knmwt15000

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

What’s possible?

We can spend time criticizing each other, becoming nattering nabobs of negativity, as British Prime Minister Winston Churchill once said. We can also rue our lot in life or feel an overwhelming sense of dread about problems we can’t solve or conflicts we haven’t resolved.

Or …

Or we can get out and create a remarkable life.

That’s what happened with famed paleoanthropologist Richard Leakey.

Okay, so maybe he had a few advantages, like the fact that his parents Mary and Louis Leakey were already successful in the field and, unlike those of us who grew up on Mud Road near Gelinas Junior High School, he spent his formative years near and around fossils.

I recall digging in the back corner of my yard when I was young, convinced that I would pull up a dinosaur bone or reveal some incredible secret someone had hidden among the prickers and weeds. Yeah, no such luck.

And yet, the life of the late Richard Leakey offers exciting hope and opportunities for inspiration.

He didn’t graduate from high school, but he was successful and world-renowned.

Leakey’s life is “awe-inspiring,” demonstrating the “ability of one person to literally transform the world and leave it a better place,” Lee Berger, National Geographic Explorer in Residence, said in an interview.

National Geographic Society CEO Jill Tiefenthaler described the impact Leakey had on his home country of Kenya as “amazing” and the impact on the field as “remarkable,” particularly because he did it in a non-traditional way.

In an interview, Tiefenthaler credited the “army” of people who supported him with helping him achieve his goals.

“How do you move and get people to move with you?” Tiefenthaler said. “He was this person who saw talent. It wasn’t just about him. He would see [someone] and say ‘you’re going to do this’ and they did.”

Next generation

As for how to get the next generation to believe in themselves and to participate in the scientific process, National Geographic’s Berger and Tiefenthaler shared their vision.

Ensuring transparency in the process helps people trust the science.

“People are with us when we find those fossils, they watch us, we make sure there’s open access when they come out,” said Berger, who considered Leakey a friend and mentor. “Your child can print these things out and they can check.”

For National Geographic, which funded Leakey for decades, the goal is to “try to give people information and let them draw their own conclusions,” Tiefenthaler added.

The next generation of scientists has access to a large educational program through National Geographic, she added.

“I spent my career in higher education,” said Tiefenthaler, who was the president of Colorado College for nine years before becoming the first woman to lead National Geographic in its 135-year history. “We have got to meet them where they are: they are probably not reading the paper magazine with small, dense print.”

National Geographic is on social media and TikTok.

“We are focusing on issues they care about,” Tiefenthaler said. “We know this generation is very concerned about climate change and biodiversity loss.”

Tiefenthaler “loves how much they care about the work we do at National Geographic [Society]. They’re a little mad at [this generation] because of the predicament that we’ve left the world in for them. We made the mess and there are fewer resources to fix things.”

Still, she believes there are leaders and actors among the younger generation who will follow in Leakey’s footsteps and have an important and positive impact on the world.

“We have a generation that’s going to make major progress on this planet,” she said.

by -
0 170
Pixabay photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

Shhh. Listen. If what you hear is nothing, then maybe you’re onto something.

Noise envelops us. Some of it, like the sound of a Broadway musical, the waterfall laughter of a giggling child, or the deep resonant breath of a humpback whale surfacing amid floating cubes of ice in Alaska can give us peace, pleasure and joy.

Many noises, however, are irritants or worse. We step out of a loud airplane onto a jetway, where loudspeakers announce the boarding in group four of a flight awaiting takeoff. We walk through a crowded airport, as fathers shout to their children, a woman calls to ask Breanne if she “wants fries with her burger,” and a man informs his wife that he “has to pee so badly that he’s not sure he’s going to make it.”

We step outside of the airport, where whistles from people directing traffic echo in our ears and where officials in orange vests bark orders at drivers to “vacate this spot immediately!”

We try to ignore many of the harsher and more abrasive sounds, even though our nervous system tracks noises as a way to protect us in case someone yells something we need to hear.

And then there are those wonderful moments when we hear nothing, not even the buzzing of a lightbulb, a dog drinking in the next room, or a cat cleaning himself on a nearby chair.

Silence.

If it lasts long enough, it’s the pause that refreshes, giving our ears a rest and our brains a chance to hear an inner voice that might otherwise get lost.

We can find those moments when we’re on our own. When we’re surrounded by others, the silence is harder to discover, as we either speak or hear the noises they make as they unwrap a newspaper, chew their gum, or shake their leg up and down so rapidly that the material from their pants makes a repetitive rubbing sound.

But then, we can go to a meditation or yoga class or a religious or memorial service and reflect with others who sit still like a slope of shaded stones in an Ansel Adams photo.

During those moments, we can slow our breathing, think beyond the constant fast twitch need to act and react to our phones, and can allow our minds to make unexpected connections.

During one of those recent times, I pondered symmetry in nature, where you can draw a line down the middle of something like our faces, and see that the image on one side, excluding freckles, beauty marks, and that scar from the time we tripped and got stitches, is incredibly similar to the one on the other.

With so much chaos in nature, I wouldn’t expect such symmetry. At a distance, most leaves have remarkable symmetry, as do the shape of most animals. Human designs often have a pleasing symmetry, with windows, flying buttresses and A-frame houses looking remarkably similar on the left and right. Almost every field or arena for a sporting event has some symmetry, except for those with irregular outfield fences.

During a recent service, I enjoyed time when I couldn’t look at my phone and when I could read religious text. I haven’t considered these texts in a while and was drawn in by their drama and story value, as opposed to the spiritual and life guidance I often imagine. Basic struggles for power, sibling rivalries, and the search for food and stability dominate these narratives, which makes it clear why religion (and mythology) continue to offer connections for people whose lives, at least on the surface, are considerably different from the ones people lived lo those many years ago.

Ultimately, silence can be refreshing, giving us auditory time and space to reflect and to clean a cognitive filter cluttered with chaos and cacophony.

by -
0 181
Pixabay photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

While for now, the pandemic is officially in the rearview mirror, according to the World Health Organization, it’s worth considering what we can and can’t blame on COVID-19. For starters, here are a few things that aren’t the fault of the pandemic.

— A favorite sports team’s defeat. Every team had to deal with COVID-19. The pandemic didn’t affect my team’s best athletes any more than any other team’s stars.

— The weather. It’s going to rain, and it’s going to be too hot and too cold. That happened before the pandemic, and it’s going to happen afterward. Global warming, if anything, might have slowed slightly as more people stayed home each day.

— Unrequited love. Authors throughout history have found this topic particularly appealing. A would-be romantic goes out into the world with a proverbial heart filled with affection and admiration. Cupid hits that person with an arrow, creating a wellspring of dedication and devotion toward someone who doesn’t return the favor. The pandemic might have made it harder to know where we stood with each other, but unrequited love will continue to cause problems and lead to sad-but-relatable romantic comedies.

— Bad grades. We all have moments when we don’t study enough, the right way, or even the right material. The pandemic might have made it harder to focus or to care about theorems or memorizing dates, but it’s not the fault of the virus. It might have been tougher to concentrate in those early days, with dogs barking, parents yelling into Zoom calls, and people dropping off food at our front door.

— Anger in Washington. This is one of the easiest to dispel. Did you pay any attention to the vitriol coming out of the nation’s capital before 2019? It’s not as if the parties suddenly decided fighting each other was more valuable than getting anything done or compromising. The words under the Washington DC license plate shouldn’t read “taxation without representation,” which refers to the fact that residents pay taxes but don’t have federal representation. Instead, it should read: “Grrrrrrrrrrr!”

— Biased journalism. As a member of the media, I understand the frustration with the written and spoken words on TV and in print. The left hates Trump; the right hates Biden and ne’er the ‘twain shall meet. The pandemic didn’t pour gasoline on that dumpster fire. Media organizations staked out their territory prior to the pandemic and have remained more faithful to their talking points than many people do to their own marriage vows.

Okay, now, what about the things we can blame on the pandemic.

— Mental health strain. While the pandemic may be gone, we haven’t wrapped our arms around the mental health impact. We spent way too much time on our phones, making us feel simultaneously connected and disconnected while the pool of frustration continues to get deeper.

— Educational gaps. Students will never get back those days and the lessons they missed during the pandemic. Classes condensed their syllabi, lowering requirements and expectations for each class and for graduation. Students of all ages missed lessons and assignments that might have inspired them and that would have helped them reach previous educational requirements.

— Social graces. A first-grade teacher recently told me that their school still can’t bring all the first-grade classes together. When they do, the students argue about resources and space. Prior to the pandemic, students from several classes could easily play together. Hopefully, that will change as the students age and fill in gaps in their ability to interact.

Even as we hope to move past the pandemic, we can’t ignore the difficult reality, forcing parents, teachers, children and members of society to relearn lessons about acting and interacting. No, we can’t take cues from Washington, but maybe we can overcome deficiencies exacerbated by the pandemic.

by -
0 208

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

Most of us engage in group movements that don’t make our day. We get in a car, sit in traffic as we wait for other cars to pass or for lights to turn green, all the while surrounded by other people doing the same thing.

Group movements start at a young age, which we witness when we stop for school buses that pick up students. A line of buses then brings those students into the parking lot.

Our entertainment and discretionary decisions follow some of the same patterns as we travel by car, bus, or train to sporting events or, in our case, recently, concerts.

And yet, the experience and the excitement we share in our interactions are markedly different.

My wife and I attended a recent performance by Janet Jackson as a part of her Together Again tour.

Unlike 15 years ago when we last saw Janet Jackson at Madison Square Garden, we asked our son to take us to and from the concert. That’s one advantage of the passage of time.

We left the car about four-tenths of a mile from the arena. Walking more rapidly than the cars inching along next to us, we followed the line of people trekking along the shoulder to the entrance.

A woman leaned out of her window and asked us if we knew if the place would sell refreshments. We said we hoped so, but weren’t sure. She gave us an appreciative and friendly wave, despite the fact that we were completely unhelpful.

People wore a wide range of outfits, with some clad in T-shirts showing a younger version of Janet from earlier concerts and others adorned in dresses and high-heeled shoes.

While waiting to get inside the arena, we spoke with a couple behind us, who were celebrating their 5th wedding anniversary and her graduation from nursing school.

Once Ludacris took the stage, the crowd, which included every age group from young children to gray-haired seniors, shouted, swayed and responded to his songs.

Cooled by a light and intermittent breeze, the crowd roared its appreciation with the left side screaming at full throat to outdo the right.

A father, mother and daughter two rows ahead of us had clearly come to see Janet, sitting and eating popcorn despite Ludacris’ exhortations for everyone to stand and shout.

Before Janet took the stage, the arena displayed a photo montage from 50 years of Janet, showing the many faces of her public life.

I wasn’t tall enough to see over a man two rows in front of me. I looked around him to see the stage and the numerous screens with images of Janet and her dancers.

As I listened and watched a show in which Janet changed her wardrobe several times, I appreciated the energy such a concert must take to put on at the age of 56. She isn’t sprinting around the stage, but she still breaks into some of her iconic moves, with sweat gleaming on her forehead.

She urged the audience to turn on their phone flashlights, which created a wave of swaying bright lights along the lawn and in the seats.

While I reveled in familiar songs, I wished the heavy and loud bass and drums didn’t overwhelm Janet’s voice. I also second-hand smoked a high dose of marijuana, as the smokestack attached to the person two seats away from me must have felt as lit up as the stage by the finale.

The experience, which I shared with thousands of thrilled audience members, brought me back to the times and places where I heard these same songs decades ago. As we followed the crowd back to our cars (or, in our case, to meet our son), I could feel the glow the concert created for an appreciative audience. For a few hours, the strangers we might otherwise see as obstacles on the way to something else came together during a joyful concert.

by -
0 113
Pixabay photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

What if my dog had opposable thumbs, understood technology, had his own phone and could, and wanted to, take pictures of me?

Yes, I know that’s a lot of “ifs,” but, given how often I take pictures of him in different lighting, rolling on his back in the grass, lifting his ears when I call for him and wagging excitedly to go in the car, I can’t help imagining the kinds of pictures he might take of me.

— Picking up poop. This one would probably be one of his favorites. Having an OCD owner, he might enjoy opening his phone and showing his pet pals how I turn my head as I reach for his solid waste. He might ask them to notice my shallow breathing and my pursed lips. He might also suggest they observe the way I pull my head back as far as my short arms allow from his poop while I try to get as much of it as possible into a bag.

— The frenetic play face. Sometimes, my excitement gets the best of me. My dog might show his friends how I purse my lips, raise my eyebrows and pull my cheeks back in an expression that looks like excitement bordering on mania. We were once sitting with another family in an already awkward social situation. When their dog came out, I instinctively made that face, causing the conversation to stop and adding to my list of awkward moments, courtesy of dad.

— The tug-of-war face. From his vantage point, I’m sure he sees me gritting my teeth as if I’m tugging with my mouth. He might point out to his pet pals, if he had a photo, that I bend my knees and make a low, growling noise to match his sounds.

— The bad doggy face. Sometimes, dogs struggle to distinguish between their toys and, say, a Derek Jeter signed baseball that either was too close to the edge of a desk or that fell on the floor. He might take out a picture that shows me pointing, stomping my feet, and shouting words that often include “no” or “don’t do that” or “bad doggy.”

— The don’t hump my leg face. The arrival of company sometimes gets the whole house excited. My dog might show his friends how his owners shake their heads, roll their eyes, frown, point and shout some combinations of the words “no” and “down” and “he doesn’t normally do this.”

— The down on all fours moment. I can imagine dogs chatting about how adorable — or maybe ridiculous — it is when their owners get down on their hands and knees to play. They might show their friends how we smile and tilt our heads as they approach. Then, of course, they might laugh as they observe how slowly we move in this position. They can cross the backyard on all fours in seconds, while we don’t stay down for long.

— The my-human-needs-a-friend face. Dogs can sense, either from the sounds we make or our body posture, when we are feeling down. My dog reacts to my tone. He jumps up, wags and throws his head into my knees when he hears me telling a story filled with conflict or when I raise my voice after hanging up after a frustrating call. In a picture, he might show me sitting at my desk, shoulders slumped, with my head down and my eyes nearly closed. In that picture, he might brag to his fellow dogs about his value as a companion.

— The my-human’s-team-just-won face: Pets probably find sports somewhere between amusing and unnerving. Humans shout at the TV, jump up and down, and scream “no” and “yes” in rapid succession. When it’s all over, if our team wins, we might reach down and pet them with so much energy and enthusiasm that we jump up and down, holding their paws as we dance and shout with them.

by -
0 463
METRO photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

The clock didn’t care about COVID-19.

Time marched forward at the same pace that it always has, and yet, the pandemic, which altered so much about our experiences, seemed to alter the fourth dimension.

Initially stuck in homes, we developed new routines, worked at kitchen tables or desks and spent considerably more time with family members and our pets throughout the day than anticipated.

For students, the pandemic altered opportunities and created challenges unseen for a century.

And yet, each year, as in this one for our daughter, the annual rite of passage of a graduation following an amalgam of typical and unique experiences awaits.

As these students march to “Pomp and Circumstance,” listen, or half-listen, to graduation speakers and glance at their supportive families who are thrilled to mark the milestone, celebrate their achievement and come together, what will be going through the minds of these new graduates?

Some may reflect on the typical academic stresses and achievements that helped them earn their diploma. They will consider the hours spent on lab experiments, the late-night workouts at the gym before a big game, and the endless rehearsals for shows and performances. They may bask in the attention of friends they made from around the country or around the corner.

They also might consider the parts they missed or the sudden change from their expected pathways.

Students, who were studying abroad, suddenly needed to return home as quickly as possible. They had to make sure they had their passports and visas, booked flights, and cleared out of rooms that might have just started to feel like home.

Others, like our daughter, raced back to their dorms from spring break, packed everything up and drove home.

As the weeks and months of uncertainty caused by a pandemic that gripped the country for more than two years progressed, some students recognized that they would not have some opportunities, like studying abroad. They might have filled out forms, learned important words in a different language, and chosen classes carefully that they couldn’t take.

Student-athletes, actors and artists, many of whom worked hard for months or longer together, were on their own as fields and stands stood empty.

These students may recognize, more than others, that plans may need to change in response to uncertainty caused by health concerns, storms or other issues.

Amid these disruptions and changes in routine, students and their families needed to pivot. They connected with friends online, entertained themselves at home, often on electronic devices, and tried to learn online.

Undoubtedly, they missed learning opportunities inside and outside the classroom. I heard from numerous students about lowered expectations and abridged syllabi, with American History classes designed to go to 2016 that stopped in 1945, at the end of World War II.

It will be up to students to fill those holes and to recognize the opportunities to become lifelong learners.

Indeed, as people search for a label for these graduates, perhaps the list will include the pivot generation, the empty stadium generation, and the virtual learning generation.

Historically, commencement speakers have exhorted graduates to embrace the opportunity to learn, to question the world around them and to seek out whatever they need.

After the pandemic adversely affected some of the students, perhaps some of them will learn and develop a stronger and more determined resilience, enabling them to keep their goals in sight even amid future uncertainties.

In the meantime, they and we can embrace the normalcy of a routine that allows them to watch the familiar clock as it slowly moves through the minutes of a commencement address.

by -
0 101
Pixabay photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

An indulgence is like a gift we give ourselves.

No, it’s not always healthy, which is why we sometimes limit our indulgences.

These indulgences, however, can go a long way to restoring our equanimity.

In a nonscientific survey of people of different ages who were willing to respond to a question about their indulgences, I received a range of interesting responses. Sharing them, I hope, gives you a chance to consider what indulgence could improve your morning, afternoon, day or week.

Several people suggested that desserts were an indulgence. Maybe that’s because so many restaurants market their marquee confection as a “warm indulgence” or a “decadent indulgence.”

Not everyone enjoys the same sugary treat. Alex appreciates a warm chocolate chip cookie, while his wife Michelle suggested that any dessert would do for her and that she doesn’t discriminate, which, I suppose makes her sugar sensitive.

Chocolate made several people’s lists, although, given the size of the market for chocolate, consumption of this sweet is likely more of a routine than a periodic indulgence.

A close friend suggested that gelato was one of his favorite indulgences. He also shared a list of other pleasures, which includes skiing in fresh powder and sailing in Port Jefferson harbor.

Sticking to the food realm for a moment, a mother and her son both considered pizza an indulgence.

A friend in his mid-20s enjoys jalapeno kettle brand potato chips dipped in sour cream, while his longtime girlfriend partakes in a matcha latte.

In the frozen food section, a friend seeks out Italian ices.

A neighbor with four young kids enjoys shopping and jewelry, although some of the joy of those moments may come from getting out of the house and spending time on her own.

Another neighbor whom I’ve seen running regularly didn’t hesitate to add alcohol to the list of indulgences. His drink of choice, which he shared instantly after getting the question, is bourbon.

Apart from food and drinks, a host of activities made the list.

A man in his mid-80s who leads an active life appreciates the opportunity to swim as often as possible.

For several people, reading a book without interruption is a welcome indulgence, breaks up the routine and transports them to other places, other times and other thoughts.

Julie, a friend whose company we like to keep regularly, enjoys siting on a beautiful, breezy beach with a book.

Kim, a friend I’ve had for well over a decade when our children started going to birthday parties together, shared a list that includes facials, a spa day, travel and chocolate eclairs. 

Noelle, who savors the chance to read a good book as well, loves foot massages, floating in a pool with her eyes closed and breathing underwater. Noelle is a scuba diver who hasn’t breathed underwater in a while, but is building up the momentum to return to the depths to search for some of her favorite aquatic friends.

Several close friends immediately highlighted the joy of a massage. That one resonates for me, as I accumulate stress in my upper back and neck and I can feel myself relaxing the moment someone works out the knots.

Another close friend loves spending time with her mother in a garden, listening to the origin story of flowers that came from the gardens of other relatives.

After listening to all these indulgences, I felt transported into the peace in other people’s lives. Asking about indulgences is a pleasant social icebreaker. To borrow from “Saturday Night Live”: indulgences, talk amongst yourselves.

Prev1...456...26Next Page 5 of 26
TBR News Media is your local news and entertainment website.
We provide you with the latest breaking news and information for your community.
Contact us: [email protected]

Most Viewed

©