The Critical Eye

By Joyce S. Anderson

This book is a collection of my articles on American lifestyle and culture that have appeared in national and regional publications. They are on interesting subjects as timely today as when they were written: family life, womens roles, parenting, communication, science, aging, government, religion, race and prejudice. Some focus on the lighter side of life, finding humor in the challenges entering the world of computers and cyberspace. All are critical observations on the human condition seen through the sociological imagination aimed at engaging the readers mind and heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 18, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453558546

Joyce S. Anderson

Joyce S. Anderson is a freelance writer and former Professor of Sociology at Atlantic Community College. Her articles on American lifestyle and culture have appeared in The New York Times and The Philadelphia Inquirer as well as other national and regional magazines and newspapers. She is the author of Courage in High Heels, Flaw in the Tapestry, If Winter Comes and The Mermaids Singing. She lives in Linwood, New Jersey with her husband, B. Robert Anderson.

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Contents

Introduction

Part I

Family Life, Women’s Roles, Aging

The Fifth Commandment

Asking Children Questions

A Reluctant Remodeler’s Tale

Generation Talk

The Painters Are Coming!

The Painters are Coming!

His and Hers Shopping Lists

Age Rage

Diaper Dilemma

What’s Your Attitude

Toward Working Women?

A Tribute to Betty Friedan

How’s Your Grass Growing?

Ann Richards: A Woman for All Seasons

A Laser Beam on Honesty

Read Any Good Wedding Announcements Lately?

The Speaker Wears Armani

Form-al Affair

Sex Education: 2003 Style

"Where Did You Go? Out.

What Did You Do? Nothing."

Are You Getting Ready

For The Big R: Retirement?

Part II

Communication, Technology, Science

Beware of the ‘I’ Message!

From The Yellow Lined Pad

to Microsoft Works

When It Comes to The Computer Age, Call me Dot.Qualm

Doing Battle With The Mouse

Computer Woes and Rewards

Lost in Cyberspace

The Hubble Space Telescope Endangered!

Scientific Wonders: Decoding the Genome & Destroying the Smallpox Virus

Seeing Stars

Hang Up! Just Drive!

Welcome to the World of

Facebook and You Tube

Women, Science & Math

Extra! Extra! How Do We Get Our News?

All The Views Fit To Print

Science versus Religion: 2006

Science, Religion and Politics

Update: Stem Cell Research

U Turn on Science

Springtime in December

Cell Phone Madness

Texting to Death!

Part III

Religion, Race, Gender, Prejudice

Race: Man’s Most Dangerous Myth

Pope John XXIII and Jules Isaac Struck a Blow Against Anti-Semitism

Harriet Johnson: Woman of Valor

How Prejudice Against Gays

Derailed An Able Nominee

A Tale of Two Mothers

Extremism on the Right: 2009-2010

Dolls and Self Image

Bishop Richard Williamson—

Holocaust Denier

Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act

At Ease, Soldier!

Remembering Matthew Shepard

June 10, 2010: Jesus Day in Texas

Who Shall Live? And Who Shall Die?

Eroding The Wall Between

Church and State

June 21,1964-June 21,2005

Rosa Parks Refused To Move!

Marching For Women’s Lives

The All American Family

50th Anniversary:

Brown v. Board of Education

The Glass Ceiling: Still Firmly in Place

Taking A Stand

Rules or Judgment?

The Right To Privacy

Repeal Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

The Cross in the Mojave Desert

Ultimate Chutzpah at the Vatican!

World Notebook: Social Change

Part IV

Very Personal Essays

A Woman of a Certain Age

In Love With Writing

From Slonim to America:

A Dream Fulfilled

Nanny’s Lost Cookie Recipe

Forward to The Past

Discovering Other People’s Lives

Orchid Fever

Brief Encounter

Confessions of a Grand Juror

Would You Believe The 17 Minute Mile?

The Sexy Image Is Out of

Place in Business

Tear-outs. Pull-outs. Fill-outs.

How Can We Read?

Holocaust Remembrance:

Jerusalem and Whitwell, Tennessee

After Ellis Island

Notes on Three Historic Speeches

How To Become a Microfinancier

The Gates in Central Park

A Few of My Favorite Things

Measuring Happiness

Introduction

It was September l969, the first day of the Fall Semester, and I was teaching Introduction to Sociology at Atlantic Community College in New Jersey. After class, one of the Vietnam veterans approached me and asked in a low voice, Is it okay if I always sit with my back against the wall? Of course, I replied. Wherever you’re comfortable. Many years later, I learned that Bill H. had become an art teacher at a regional high school. I thought of how he must have struggled to make the journey back from that terrible war. During the second week when a night class met, I noted that a woman was absent. We kept names and phone numbers for the night students, and I called her after I returned home. Hi, Sally. I missed you tonight, I said. Is everything all right? She hesitated and then said, I decided I wasn’t going to make it in the course. You gave that short test and I thought I had failed. First, I told her that she had done fine on the general information quiz that no one could fail. Then, I urged her to come back the following week. Sally did come back and ended the course with a strong grade. In later years, I met her at a local hospital where she was the supervising nurse on the floor.

Every class at ACC held a wide range of ages and backgrounds: veterans in their 20’s who had just come home from the Vietnam War; divorced women in their late 30’s and early 40’s, seeking credentials to enter the work force; high school graduates of l8 and l9; and older men and women coming for professional credits in their fields. The student body was also a varied mix of race and ethnicity. Most students were working full or part-time to pay the tuition, and often were the first in their family to attend college. For a new assistant professor, teaching Sociology 101 to non-traditional students was a distinct challenge. I had taught before at the 8th grade level in a suburban community. I found out fast that this experience was very different.

My years at ACC from the late 60’s to early 80’s taught me the reality of what the eminent sociologist, C. Wright Mills called The Sociological Imagination. Mills described the meeting of two lines intersecting—the personal biography of each individual crossing the time line of history and social change. The point at which they intersect is for each woman and man their sociological imagination. I used this intriguing concept as the foundation of my teaching, and in writing the essays I began in the l970’s. Mills’ emphasis was on developing a critical quality of mind to reason and deal with one’s life in a changing world.

I saw my role as a teacher helping students weigh their lives, values and thinking within the larger scale of our society and what was happening around them. They were encouraged to draw from the knowledge presented in the course to question assumptions and myths. And to be open to alternative points of view. The basic textbook was supplemented with outside readings and films. Classes were small, under 30, with questions and discussions as part of each session. Everyone was expected to participate. Once in a while, I still meet former students who tell me they learned how to think in Sociology 101. I treasure that comment.

The late 60’s were the wrenching time of riots, burning cities, the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy, and a nation deeply divided by the growing Vietnam War. I approached the Dean of the college to talk about the need for a course on Race, Ethnicity, Prejudice and Discrimination. He asked me for a book to read and I gave him, The Concept of Race by the anthropologist Ashley Montague. He read it on a plane trip to California and suggested on his return that I prepare a syllabus. The Individual and The Group became my signature course at the college with a second term on Minority Groups, Civil Liberties and Civil Rights. Teaching subjects that were exploding all around us was an unbelievable experience for me and the students. During the decades that followed, I wrote essays and articles about the political and social issues of the day, using my sociological imagination to reach readers. I was at that nexus—where my own life crossed the events of the nation—to observe and comment upon what was happening all about us.

Another focus during my years at the college was The Family course taught against the background of the changing structure and roles of the American family. The Women’s Movement had opened new vistas for girls in high school and college. It had also coincided with the economic demands for the two-paycheck family that saw married women with children entering the workforce in ever increasing numbers. At the college, the divorced women in their 30’s and 40’s were coming with years of important experience in child rearing, budgeting and running a household. However, that did not translate into credentials on a resume for the job search. Men’s roles were changing as well, although at a slower rate. Household duties of shopping, cooking and cleaning were still being done by the working wife in most families. In our classes, students were studying about a subject that was close to their daily lives.

To supplement the textbook, and outside readings, I often assigned real-life activities, like Dinner Time Dynamics where students were to draw a picture of their family places at the table, the subjects discussed, who communicated with whom and the overall mood. When the results of the assignment were shared in class, we learned that some dinners were a tense time when Dad did most of the talking or reprimanding. Others were informal. What did you do today? could reveal a problem at school or a field trip and need for money. We also discovered that it was rare for the entire family to sit down together for dinner. The traditional Norman Rockwell picture was gone. Teenagers were at sports practice. Parents had different work schedules. Younger children were eating a pizza in front of the television in the den. Class discussion was lively and revealed individual opinions about their own experience as well as the larger picture in society. Students were developing the critical quality of mind—learning about other families and finding out where their family fit in.

During the l980’s and l990’s, I embarked upon a new career as a human relations and management consultant. This gave me the opportunity to work with people in the business world in both corporations and independent firms. I particularly enjoyed the experiences with the owners of family-run entrepreneurial companies. They were the risk takers who had laid the foundation and nurtured growth, with other family members often filling important jobs along the way. When the time came for the owner to consider retirement, succession was always a tough issue. Who would become president and assume control? The consultant’s role was to help the family members think outside the box of their family roles as father, son, daughter, brother, or in-law. That was the hardest part and could take years to resolve. Outside my work, my articles during the two term presidency of Bill Clinton were personal reflections on the events and politics of the era. I also began to write a weekly column, Dimensions for a regional paper in southern New Jersey with emphasis on the social and political issues of the day. The columns and articles reflected the overall perspective of my sociological imagination.

In 2000, I turned my full attention to my writing and began the interviews that led to my first book, Courage in High Heels. I also continued writing my weekly column, Dimensions during the eight George W. Bush years and the election of Barack Obama as president. In Courage in High Heels, I told the true life stories of eight American women who have overcome multiple obstacles with remarkable spirit and resilience. Once the book was published, I went on to tackle fiction, what I call the art and craft of writing novels. Flaw in the Tapestry and the sequel If Winter Comes focus on family relationships in current times. Three generations of women in one family are the central characters, facing certain challenges, conflicts and decisions. The Mermaids Singing explores the lives of three women who come together again at a 25th college reunion and find that friendships can be strong or can founder on betrayal. My background in teaching The Family course served me well in creating the women, men and children in the books, and the dialogue that has to ring true for a novel to succeed.

*     *     *

This book is a collection of my articles on American lifestyle and culture that have appeared in national publications, including The New York Times and The Philadelphia Inquirer as well as regional magazines and newspapers. They are on interesting subjects as timely today as when they were written: family life, women’s roles, parenting, communication, science, government, religion, race and prejudice. Some focus on the lighter side of life, finding humor in the challenges we meet entering the world of computers and cyberspace. They are all critical observations on the human condition—seen through the sociological imagination—aimed at engaging the reader’s mind and heart.

Joyce S. Anderson

August, 2010

Part I

Family Life, Women’s Roles, Aging

The Fifth Commandment

The scene is a fashionable restaurant: three women in their late fifties have met for lunch. After they place their orders, one woman sighs deeply and says, Umph! The second replies, Umph! Umph! and the third concludes with Umph! Umph! Umph! After a brief pause, the first says decisively Please, Let’s not talk about the children!

Whenever parents of the thirty-something generation hear this story, they react with understanding chuckles and comments of agreement. The wry punch line seems to strike a deep chord.

As a sociologist and parent of three, this subject holds both professional and personal interest. Our popular culture reveals a sharp parental focus on married children as they embark on their roles as spouses and parents. Movies, television, articles and incessant talk shows highlight adult children: Parenthood, a box-office blockbuster, Thirty-something, critically acclaimed as sensitive mature television, Terms of Endearment, the Oscar-winning film. And of course, there’s Toxic Parents the best seller about overcoming their hurtful legacy and reclaiming your life.

I am puzzled and quite troubled. Have these children, many married with children of their own, traded in the Fifth Commandment for a new set of guidelines? Out of the psychobabble of countless close encounters with therapists and prolonged dialogues, certain dominant themes have emerged. First, that the single most important pursuit is to understand oneself and to give free rein to expressing one’s feelings. It is considered harmful to inhibit resentment or anger. It is more important to convey those feelings than to consider the effects—hurt, rejection, pain—on the other person. If it happens to be one’s parent, that is unfortunate but it is still necessary to forge ahead.

The second theme would appear to be honesty at almost all costs. Direct communication is seen as the road to a meaningful relationship, the password for people who care about each other and share much of what they are thinking and feeling. One woman told of her 32 year-old daughter in California who did not want to give her 83 year-old grandfather, also in California, a telephone call. I have nothing to say to him, she said. We never really had a meaningful relationship. It would not be honest of me to just call him up. Her mother’s reply was, Lie a little. He’s a lonely old man and a call from you saying ‘Hello’ would cheer him up. In fact, he’ll probably talk about that phone call for weeks!

Perhaps the heart of the dilemma is the meaning of Honor thy father and mother. As one parent remarked ironically, If this had been meant as a suggestion, it would not have been carved in stone.

Looking back at our relationships with our parents, meaningful or otherwise, there was never any question that they and we were bonded to each other by the irrevocable fact of our birth. Some of us loved our parents; others hated them. There were multiple reasons in all cases for the feelings we held. However, there was never any confusion about who they were—and who we were. The one thing we were not with our parents was equals. When we fifty and sixty somethings discuss our parents, certain clear agreement emerges. Honor to us meant respect. There was a form of deference because of the genetic tie that existed. If we were angry, annoyed or frustrated at times, we usually kept those feelings to ourselves. We would no more have let it all hang out than do physical harm.

As we grew into adulthood, the roles may have shifted. In some cases, we were called on to give financial support. In many instances, we gave emotional support through years of illness. And physical care. If we felt resentful, impatient or angry at times, we usually discussed it with our spouses and set it aside. We sought outlets for our tensions, indirect ways of dealing with our feelings. To us, honor was a far-reaching concept. It meant that it was not our place to talk to our parents on an equal footing. There was always inherent respect for their age, long years of experience, knowledge and most of all for the position of parent. We were also acutely conditioned to consider their feelings at all times. What might disturb them? What might make them angry? What would make them happy and content?

I have come to the conclusion that the basic questions are the same but the players have been reversed in the script written by the Thirty-somethings. They appear to be seeking a new form of relationship as equals with their parents, where we are the ones to be made aware of their feelings. We are to be concerned with what makes them resentful, angry, contented or happy. The focus is definitely on them as the epicenter of the family network. It doesn’t seem fair to place this shift in viewpoint and behavior completely on today’s therapists. That answer is too simple for a complex change in society. The broader view is to see us and our children in the national and world scenes around us as we grew up.

We were raised by Depression-era parents and we matured during World War II. Our children became adults after Vietnam and the Civil Rights struggles. There is little of the drama, force and involvement of those years today. Although issues such as drug use, AIDS and pollution are vital and dangerous, they do not reach into every facet of most of our lives as the conflicts and upheavals of the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s did.

Our children grew up in a society that was basically secure—and asked little of them. Most were raised in homes that did the same. Many had the benefits of suburban space, orthodontia, chauffeuring to an assortment of piano, ballet and Little League games. Plus endless hours of care, attention and loving support as they dealt with childhood scrapes, taunting peers and life’s major and minor knocks. They also pursued undergraduate college and graduate degree programs that were paid for by their parents.

If as adults, they have discovered that we are not the most perfect parents in the world, we don’t really want to know all the details. The clay feet—or toes—are no doubt there. They certify us as card-carrying members of the human race, and of that ubiquitous group that has brought forth offspring. We parents need to stop the current trend of shifting the focus of the family solely onto the younger generation, their feelings and their needs at the expense of ours.

Here’s a starter list for the thirty-somethings:

1.  Keep in touch. Call. Write. Visit.

2.  Do these things even if you don’t feel like it at times. Or if it is inconvenient or difficult. We need to know that you are O.K. If you lose touch, we worry.

3.  Ask about us. We know you are busy and have many events and activities and are interested. But we want you to be interested in our lives too, our jobs and our friends.

4.  Tell us the good news as well as the bad. We want to be part of the real world, not a duty telephone call on Sunday morning. Share.

5.  Remember our birthdays and anniversaries. And with more than a perfunctory card. The amount of money spent isn’t important, but recognition of the day is. Without these important dates, you wouldn’t be here.

6.  Think about us and doing things that would please us. We have been doing that for you all your lives.

7.  Love us. Don’t judge us. We’re not perfect. This is what we did for our parents.

Honor thy mother and father." It must be our turn now!

Asking Children Questions

For as long as most of us can remember, children have been asked the mind-numbing question, What do you want to be when you grow up? Since they are resilient and creative, children learn to deal with this intrusive query with such culturally approved responses as a doctor (why not go for the number one prestige and money), the president or a movie star (interchangeable in some young heads these days), gourmet chef (now there’s a sophisticate) and computer analyst" (a pragmatic choice).

A range of occupations, from the adventurous astronaut to the prosaic stockbroker, flows without hesitation from the lips of the youngest tots. Have they been primed, coached, influenced and molded by their parents, relatives and television? Of course. Will their designated choice last? Perhaps. One thing is sure. The good old days of answers like fireman (now called firefighters), farmer, teacher, policeman ( police officer today), and nurse are long gone. These kids have moved ahead with the times.

But what about us, the adults who keep asking the same nagging question? Each time we pose it, we make four assumptions:

*  Children already know the answer. Management experts might label this ‘very early Goal-setting.

*  They should know the answer.

*  When one is grown up, there will be one role for each of us in the work world.

*  One’s being is defined by one’s occupation.

If the questions we ask determine the answers we get—as philosophers have been telling us for centuries—then we need to stop asking children what they want to be when they grow up. We need to break the cycle and ask ourselves what we want to matter most to our children when they grow up. If the answer is the best paying job, then we can go back to the original question and refine it a bit. However, if the answer includes clean air and water, beauty, human compassion, freedom, mature love, health, world peace, a sense of accomplishment, and the pursuit of truth and wisdom, then we need a set of new questions for our children.

Here are some possible questions:

What makes you very happy?

What makes you very sad?

Who is the kindest person you know?

What is the most beautiful thing you ever saw?

How do you make other people happy?

How do you make other people sad?

Why should you care about other people?

Who should take care of the trees and flowers?

Shouldn’t we consider asking older children such questions as:

What does love mean?

What does peace mean?

Why should we be honest?

What does it mean to be free?

What makes you laugh? Or cry?

How do you feel when you help someone else?

Or, if you must stay with the vocational bent: What do you like to do most of all?

This, of course, is a tentative and personal list. We each need to create our own lists for our own children and those we know and care about. Our questions reflect our values; they emphasize and pass on to the next generation those values that matter most to us. This should not be a casual or habitual transference. Young minds are open to questions. They pose them constantly to us. They tell us with their questions what concerns them. We need to do the same.

If we want them to become adults who care about other people as human beings with feelings, the environment of air and water around them, the ideals of truth, beauty, wisdom, compassion and peace, then we have to stop outlining their future in terms of jobs, careers, money and prestige.

What they want to be when they grow up should be a reflection of the values and goals we are striving to teach them now.

A Reluctant Remodeler’s Tale

It all started with the kitchen sink. The original sink that came with the house 28 years ago. When the white enamel started to chip off, I bought one of those diabolically designed rubber sink mats. The ones with the overlapping circles to be cut out to match different—sized drains. After a few years and any number of circles cut in the wrong places, I finally developed the knack. Along the way, we just accepted the fact that underneath the succession of rubber mats, the entire white surface had worn off. Periodically, my husband would mix up what he called Chlorox soup, a malodorous brew of bleach, liquid soap and steaming hot water. It never really restored the white. All it did was clear my sinuses for at least a week.

Call it inertia. Call it being too busy with life to pay attention to such matters. The truth is that it never occurred to us to replace the kitchen sink. Until one morning last December. In a moment of pure insight and enlightenment, I realized that we did not have to live with that sink forever. We were not bound together until death, divorce or eviction. We could call the plumber and buy a new sink. And that is how it all began. It is now April and about $25,000 later. Here’s the whole story.

The First Domino Falls

We have always been happy with our home and décor. Dark wood floors, two oriental rugs, certain favorite pieces of furniture and a collection of oil paintings, drawings and sculpture. Although the rooms are average in size, we made the most of our space. That’s the good news. The bad news is that we hadn’t painted the inside of the house in about 10 years. Every time my husband announced that this year was it, I panicked. All the familiar reasons were recited: the lingering odors, the attendant turmoil, the effort of taking down (and putting