Make the Time to Visit This Museum

 https://nmaahc.si.edu/

The last time I spent most of a day in a museum was on my first visit to the Rock N' Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland in 2000. But it was equally easy getting lost in the National Museum of African-American History and Culture last weekend while my wife and I were in Washington D.C. If you haven't visited it yet, check out the website above and then make time for it on your next trip to the capital. I'm confident you will find it worthwhile. 

The history portion of the museum, which starts three stories below ground level, was the highlight for me. The elegant design walks a visitor up from the 15th century through the 21st, tracing an arc from the earliest days of the African slave trade through the eight years of the Obama presidency. Although never out of the spell, I lingered longest in the sections featuring the notorious Middle Passage and the dismantling of Reconstruction. I was grateful to have an opportunity to play more catch-up on both those pieces of neglected history. 

And there's no doubt the one display in the NMAAHC that will never leave me was the small room devoted to the murder of Emmet Till. As the ramp of history ended, I made use of a secluded room on the ground floor that overlooks a fountain and is set aside for quiet contemplation. 

    

Rescued by a Modern-Day Classic

Over the lifespan of my blog, I'd estimate no more than two months have passed without me either raving or ranting about a film. Not that surprising really, considering .. a.) how indiscriminate my movie jones has always been and .. b.) how frequently I reflect on the bell curve.

https://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2023/07/mangled-axiom-1.html

But since gushing about The Rescue in early July, your favorite movie geek has been unusually silent. It's possible that spellbinding documentary has - at least temporarily - re-set the bar for me. Because I haven't been turned on - or off - enough by any film since The Rescue captivated me, I decided a few weeks back to scan the streaming platforms for a re-watch to rescue me from the movie doldrums. Wise strategy.

If any film deserves the term modern-day classic, I stand by The Fugitive (1993). I've lost count how many times I've rhapsodized to others about the breathtaking train derailment scene early in the movie. But on this re-watch, Andrew Davis's astute direction, the airtight script, and the cat-and-mouse dynamic between the Tommy Lee Jones and Harrison Ford characters deepened my admiration for this piece of cinematic magic. In my view, it's a nearly perfect film. If you haven't seen it, do so. If you have, put it on your re-watch list, today.

Now about that train derailment scene. When you watch or re-watch The Fugitive, tell me what other scene from an earlier movie starring Harrison Ford comes to mind. Hint: The earlier film where Ford is being chased by an inanimate object was released in 1981 and directed by Steven Spielberg. I would love to ask Andrew Davis if he was paying homage to another great director when he envisioned that train barreling down on Ford aka Richard Kimble/Indiana Jones.       

Examining the Educational Disconnect

What percentage of the college-educated people you've known have actually made their living in a field closely related to their undergraduate degree? If you have a degree, how many of your subsequent full- time jobs have been directly connected to the education you received? Most of them? A few of them? None of them?

From graduation day in 1971 through 2010 - the year I left the full-time work world - more than half of my forty working years were spent far removed from the world of education. Only two months over all those years were spent teaching elementary school, my major in college. In my experience, my work history is more the rule than the exception. How does my experience line up or differ from yours? For every person I've known who has made their living doing work directly connected to their degree, I would estimate I've known two others whose work life took them far afield from that degree, either early on or in later years. And without trying real hard, I can think of several people who never made a dollar - let alone a living - in any type of job for which their degree was ostensibly preparing them. How many people have you known who fit that description?  

Although the elementary piece of my undergraduate degree in education got almost no professional use, the foundation that degree provided has been invaluable in many domains of my life. I'm guessing in that respect I'm like many of you who share a work history similar to mine, i.e., one not necessarily closely linked to our undergraduate studies. Wouldn't you agree the benefits of any college education will always mitigate the disconnect between that education and what's useful in a subsequent work life? 

Begin, Again

Which flaw would you say you've worked hardest over your life to overcome or at least to mitigate?

My tendency to judge others has been a lifelong struggle. It often feels like each step forward is followed by a step back not long after. Though I realize my struggle is not unique, knowing I'm not alone has rarely given me much solace. 

Under different conditions, my judging self would likely have been triggered by an individual with whom I recently spent several hours. But given my professional role, the rawness of this person's emotional state, and the naked vulnerability on display, I heard myself repeating several times - I'm not going to judge you - my volume increasing each time. And all the while I wondered: Am I telling the truth? 

Later that day, while de-briefing this intense experience, my facilitating partner re-assured me that in those moments he believed I was telling the truth. My partner also suggested that the repetition of those words had helped ease a tortured person's pain. Though I was relieved to hear those things, a more significant learning began to emerge as my processing deepened. Saying those words had helped me make them true in this situation. How then can I use it next time? What if I maintained the same posture - maybe even said those words to myself - when I feel myself reflexively judging someone who triggers me? Is it possible to shift the dynamic with people that trigger me by more clearly demonstrating I'm not judging them? 

318 and Counting

https://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2011/11/goal-for-year-62.html

In November 2011, I launched a mission to fully memorize 300 jazz standards by December of the next year, declaring it in the post above. In the end, it took me close to eight years to complete my mission, as memorialized in the post below from August, 2019. 

https://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2019/08/seven-years-nine-months-three-hundred.html

Early on, it became clear how wildly over-ambitious my initial mission was as I learned how these songs needed consistent review over a short duration in order for each to really lodge in my brain until the next review. Sometime late in 2014, I scuttled the haphazard review process I'd been using to that point and developed one that ensured each tune got played end-to-end regularly in every review cycle. 

Nine years on, I'll begin review cycle #100 later this week, marking another milestone in this project that is now almost twelve years old. Thanks to the more structured review process, I've now got 318 songs lodged in my brain. I've memorized at least seven tunes by eleven different composers. Richard Rodgers leads the pack with twenty-one tunes and Duke is close on his heels with twenty. Every one of the 318 feels like an old friend. I'm pleased and proud I've persisted; my playing has never felt better to me. Thanks to those of you who have checked in with me about it since the mission began in late 2011.     

Acknowledging Our Tribe

On Friday, friends and family came from as close as the next town over and from as far away as California to help my wife and me celebrate forty years of marriage at the very place where we met forty-five years ago this past April. 

Looking around that room, I was again reminded how rich our life has been and continues to be. There were nine people - five family members and four friends - who celebrated our marriage with us in September, 1983. One of those friends has been part of my life for longer than I've known my wife. 

At the same time, several others who were present are recent and welcome additions to our tribe, including a couple who are part of our Rogue Scholar travel group, the new partner of a longtime friend - who we met for the first time earlier this summer - and my son-in-law's mother and sister. Those two made an eight-hour drive from Ohio to be part of our celebration. Others fought the ferocious Friday Jersey traffic travelling from all over the state as well as upstate New York and Connecticut. Both my wife and I are grateful for all these special folks who made such an effort to celebrate with us.

How recently have you paused to acknowledge your gratitude for people who enrich your life? Was that acknowledgment tied to a specific event? If yes, what was the event? 

Over Vs. Under-Thinking

Since first learning of Goodreads several years back, I've enjoyed periodically interacting with other readers - some known to me, others not - on that popular website. I've also enjoyed keeping track of books finished, posting reviews, and a few of the recommendations made to me by the site's algorithm. If you use Goodreads at all, what benefits have you derived? If you're a reader and never taken a look at the site, I recommend you do.  

My one quibble with Goodreads are the simplistic statements that accompany the one-to-five star rating system used on the site. There have been occasions when I've published a review while purposefully skipping the ratings. For many books - non-fiction, in particular - declaring "I liked it" to go with a three star rating or "I really liked it" (four stars) strikes me as inadequate. I'd prefer letting the stars stand alone vs. being tied - however insignificantly - to an inane statement that risks trivializing an important book. 

For example, Survival in Auschwitz: The Nazi Assault on Humanity (1947) is a book everyone should read but one only a masochist would "like". As my processing of Primo Levi's towering masterwork deepened and I prepared to mark the book as finished on Goodreads, the inadequacy of those accompanying statements - even the breathless one that goes with five stars ("It was amazing!") - felt intolerably trite. 

Books like Survival in Auschwitz deserve no less than painstaking attention. Am I over-thinking these Goodreads statements as it applies to Levi's book? Perhaps. In this instance, I'll stand by over vs. under-thinking. 

goodreads.com