Failures to Communicate (Cleveland Post, January 19, 2012)

My friend Marguerite says its a miracle any time communication is successful. I used to think that was rather harsh.

One can communicate such simple things as 'Pass the salt' without language, assuming one's table partner is willing to communicate.

On the other hand, even when the words are the same, the tone of voice can give them opposite meanings. We've all been on the receiving end of "I'm sorry" when it was the truth and when the actions surrounding the words inserted a big fat "Not!" at the end.

Common knowledge should allow the use of fewer words without loss of meaning. For instance, my daughter and I both know the contents of her wardrobe. Therefore, when I remind her to get her red sweater on her way to the car, I shouldn't have to specify the new one because the old one is ratty looking and two sizes to small and she knows we are on our way to a party. I shouldn't have to, but I do.

Communicating with hypothetical people is even more challenging. On the maid's cart in the hotel, wedged between the dirty laundry bag and extra rolls of toilet tissue, I saw a spray bottle half full of purple liquid. The name of the stuff (two words, at least six syllables each, assembled according to IUPAC naming conventions) was printed in small letters. Perpendicular to this, in large capitals read top to bottom, it said 'DO NOT DRINK.' I am certain those able to read the chemical name are not in danger of drinking the stuff. My guess is that the folks who are drawn to drinking things because they are purple don't pay much attention to labels. So who was the warning for?

Even when the language and the money are the same, the culture and experience may not be, leaving gaps in context and common knowledge. On our annual sojourn North, we had an incident of this sort.

We landed in the wrong toll lane. This, after successfully paying our way over five bridges, through one tunnel, and along one stretch of turnpike (to the tune of over $20 bucks, but that's another story). The challenge lay in traveling without EZ-Pass and having to figure out which side of the toll-plaza housed the 'CASH' booth. It is a challenge we are up to and gladly endure. It is eased by the courtesy and professionalism of those collecting our cash. That is, until the incident.

We came to a stretch of road that apparently had a new toll plaza. Large, wordy signs directed cars with EZ-Pass, and trucks and trailers with and without EZ-Pass, but no sign for cars without EZ-Pass. Not to worry, experience suggested we should just follow the signs for trucks without EZ-Pass; we were not the only passenger vehicle to do so and pulled up as the car ahead of us moved on.

"You're not supposed to be here," the woman snarled and waved us on. Taken aback by this rudeness, we just sat there for a moment. Unwilling to let such rudeness stand, and trying to be helpful and not critical, I said politely, ''The signs were not clear." My husband started to pull away.

"Oh, the signs were clear," she snapped at our backs, even nastier than before. Her tone made her meaning clear: she called me a liar and hinted at stupidity.

It shocked an ugly name right out of my mouth. I took the opportunity to demonstrate to my children how to apologize for being out of control.

The woman made no sense. How could someone take an honest mistake by total strangers as a personal insult? And how could she be so sure everyone understood missing information the way she did?

No clue, until a week later. Home again, in that place where the world makes the most sense, not because it is sensible, mind, but because the language spoken is ours. Home again, and settled in to catching up on all the papers, we found a possible the answer to our puzzling witch.

You see, New York had the new EZ-Pass system NCDOT installed on I-540, the one that takes pictures of license plates and sends a bill if you don't have the transponder. Maybe it looked like we bypassed the cameras, cheated New York out of its toll and then had the gall to pretend we didn't know what we had done.

It bugged me enough that I contacted the New York State Thruway Authority for a definitive answer. Nope. There is no toll for passenger vehicles on that stretch of road. We didn't cheat anybody out of anything.

Some things we'll never know.

Maybe Marguerite has a point.

How Many Times Do I Have to Tell You (Cleveland Post, October 6, 2011)

Parent -child communication is a truly fascinating thing, if you stop and think about it.

When they are babies, the conversation revolves around food, comfort, security. They fuss, we check to see which end needs attention. Fed, snuggled or freshly diapered, the fussing stops, everybody's happy. Words are not necessary, but Mama and Daddy talk anyway because, well, that's what humans do.

And, miraculously, children learn those words. "Mama," "Daddy," "blankie," "cookie." As their bodies learn to toddle, their mouths and brains develop, and they learn to say them in a manner increasingly recognizable to the general population.

At first, children seem truly delighted to have figured out how communication works. Daddy says "Bring me the ball" and daughter excitedly picks it up and carries it to him. Daddy says, "Thank you!" Daughter claps and laughs. She is on the same page as Daddy, they have had a complete interaction, carried out to everybody's satisfaction.

Life is good.

But it is not linear, at least from a parent's perspective. Mama and Daddy want the lessons to proceed such that more complex instructions are given, more complicated tasks are completed with everybody laughing and clapping at the end. Ha.

Because it seems that the next lesson learned has more to do with binary logic, those ones and zeros of our digital age: yes or no. Having demonstrated to themselves they can do what Mama or Daddy ask, doing it is no longer that much fun. They learn to say "no."

Mama and Daddy make funny faces and noises when that happens!

Children want to learn logic? Mama and Daddy are glad to oblige. "You may have desert, but you have to finish your peas first."

It is not always pleasant but progress advances on this front, too. The stubbornness and disobedience get boring - or, at least, unprofitable- and they move on to something else.

In my experience, there are occasional phases in which children really want to help. And they are helpful. They are learning what its like to be part of a team and it's fun. (Enjoy them while they last!)

If a child has heard any lectures about setting an example for their younger siblings, opportunities that involve helping Mama while showing up said siblings have particular appeal.

But somewhere along the line what I call the Lawyer Function of the brain begins to develop in earnest. Communication deteriorates. Maybe it has something to do with going to school, with all those behavior rules and classroom procedures to learn. And there are all those reminders, "Follow instructions carefully."

Maybe its just that after more than eight hours of being cooperative, attentive, and obedient, the child has had it. Or maybe its just a coincidence.

Whatever the reason, chores down proudly by a toddler become just too much for an older child.

Mama: "Pick up those shoes!"

Child: (groans and picks up shoes, moves them randomly - perhaps even to the proper room, then puts them down.)

Thirty minutes later, Mama trips over the shoes again.

Mama: Come pick up these shoes!

Child: "I did pick them up!"

Mama: "Put them away!"

Child: "Jeez, why didn't you say that?"

Jeez, indeed.

So, as all parents must do, you adjust.

Mama: "Pick up your shoes. Very good. Now, take them to your room and put them in your closet. Don't forget to close the closet door."

Child: "Quit telling me what to do!"

Sigh.

The thing is, the solution is really quite simple.

Mama: "If you did what I told you to the first time, then the four reminders it usually takes to get the job done would go away! That's an 80% reduction in nagging!"

And, if you sense the presence of a "teachable moment," you can kick it up to the next level and really blow their minds:

Mama: "Of course, if you do your chores without being reminded, I won't have to tell you what to do at all. Isn't that what you want?"

Child: (stunned silence).

So obvious.

Sigh.

Road Trips in Time (Cleveland Post, July 28, 2011)

Old Drug Store Road. Cleveland School Road. The old Apex-Macedonia Church Road and Holly Springs Road, widened and upgraded (pun intended!) into Tryon Road, connecting Garner and Cary. Road names fascinate me because they are a key to history. I have been pondering them quite a bit the last several months.

It all started with the puzzle of Cornwallis Road. The name didn't register as an anomaly at first. Growing up in a land of subdivisions and numbered highways, road names were about as meaningful as hexadecimal IP addresses. They needed to name a street in the subdivision so they slapped on girl's names or the names of powerboat manufacturers. Useful, but not significant.

At some point, I had a "duh" moment and made the connection to the Revolutionary War. General Charles Cornwallis crossed from South Carolina into North Carolina in September of 1780, lead his troops up to Guilford Courthouse in Alamance County where he fought the Americans in March of 1781(It was one of those battlefield triumphs that leads to the ultimate loss of the war). After that battle, he made his way down to Wilmington.

Could it be that his route had passed through this part of Johnston County, leaving his name on the road he traveled?

Nope. At least that is the resounding answer given by his well-documented campaign. To get from Alamance County to Wilmington, he went west of us, down to Fayetteville and through Bladen County. When he left Wilmington for Virginia, he stayed to the east, going through Goldsboro and on up to Rocky Mount on a route approximated by present-day US 117 to US 301.

So, why the name? And how long has this road been known by this name?

A historian trying to put together pieces of another historical puzzle may have left a bit of an answer to the second question. Armies weren't the only ones on the move in 1780. Between 1771 and 1816, the man referred to as the father of American Methodism traveled over 300,000 miles (yes, I counted the zeroes correctly). Bishop Francis Asbury diligently recorded his preaching and his journeys in his journal, which was published after his death.

Now, Mt. Zion United Methodist Church on NC 50 near the intersection of NC 42 was founded in 1809, built by John and Susan Leach on land they donated. A history of the church refers to Asbury's journal and states, "he mentions that in 1812 on his way from near Fayetteville to New Bern, he went by Mt. Zion Chapel to preach. Since the old "Cornwallis Trail", which was a much-traveled thoroughfare in those days, ran near the church, this "Mt. Zion Chapel" could have been our Mt. Zion."

So, maybe it has been around a while.

There are other roads named after Cornwallis. A search on "Cornwallis in NC" brings up a number of roads to the west and a few to the east. In addition to the one in Durham and one in Kinston, there is a Cornwallis Drive in Greensboro and one in Mocksville.

As I pondered this question, I have pored over what old maps I can find, and looked closely along any road I happen to be on. One of the things I have noticed is that the roads quite often bear the name of the place to which they lead. New Bethel Church, Cleveland School, Apex-Macedonia Church, Benson Highway, Old Garner Road.

And I wonder: what if some of these Cornwallis Roads were so named because they were the roads that lead to General Cornwallis' encampments, or to the encampments of the American forces opposing him? Were these the roads to follow if you wanted to get in on the fight? Were they used by messengers, or to transport supplies, or by reinforcements from other areas?

I don't know. But I would love to hear from any one who does.

*****

Note on General Cornwallis's troop movments: I found a neat website. EleHistory.com is focused on "visualizing and quantifying history." Under the web application heading, there is an interactive map "American Revolution Sites, Events, and Troop Movements" that shows exactly that for dates from May 1780 through April 1781. Information is still being added and there are some limitations, but this is history for a digital age.

Note on history of Mt. Zion Methodist Church: The quotation included above is from a photocopy I found in the Heritage Center in Smithfield. Neither the author or title of the book from which it was taken were included on the photocopy. Any information on this book would be gratefully appreciated.

Choosing Your Words (From the Cleveland Post March 10, 2011)

Stepping Back, Looking Closer:

Choosing Your Words

by K. S. Volcjak

Writing about children and discipline is like trying to disarm a bomb. You have a nugget of child-rearing insight and want to share it. All it takes is choosing the right words.

But choosing the right words is like choosing which wire snip. Pick the wrong one and everything goes "BOOM!"

I agonized over word choice in my last column. How many people will not be able to hear what I am saying because they can't get beyond the horror of calling a child 'naughty'? How many people will recoil at the assertion that Mama and Daddy know best?

How many will turn the page in disgust because I worry about such things?

(I worry about such things because it is in my best interest to be understood by as many people as possible. I am interested in genuine common ground, not battle lines.)

Every family makes its own bomb. More objectively, let's say every family creates its own engine, it's own dynamic. Fully wired and firing on all cylinders, it is a powerful thing. Cut a wire here or there, maybe efficiency drops or a weird noise develops. Cut too many or just the right one and it quits with a bang or a whimper.

What brings the family together? What are the 'house rules'? What is expected of each member? How do family members express love and commitment to one another? Who is in charge of the family? How is unacceptable behavior defined? How is it addressed? How does the family's culture answer these questions?

Every answer is a connecting wire, a tie that binds, a chain that fetters, or something in between.

Every family will answer those questions differently, and there is no guarantee that each family member will answer it the same way on every point. (I know of three siblings who were all spanked growing up. Two of the three spanked their own children when the need arose. The third had been humiliated by his experience and has never used corporal punishment with his children.)

Love and authority are tangled together in these answers. They are the potentially explosive elements that drive gut reactions to 'discipline,' 'naughty,' and 'parental authority,' the wires that can make everything go "Ka-blam!"

It's hard enough to navigate your own family's dynamic, never mind those of strangers. Still, we try.

Open mindedness and goodwill are the things a writer hopes her readers bring to her work, and patience enough to hear her out.

Which brings me to Amy Chua and her book The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. You may have heard of her - she's the one talking about "Chinese parenting" and "Western parenting". She made her daughters take piano and did not allow them to attend sleepovers or get less than an A in school. Between her broad cultural generalizations and her candid admission of parenting techniques even John Rosemonde finds abhorrent, she has outraged and horrified a lot of people.

I submit that most of those people didn't read the whole book. They certainly don't remember being seven years old and trying every excuse in the book to get out of work, including the old standby "I've got to go to the bathroom!"

I've read it twice. I remember being seven. Ms. Chua has some insights. Getting to them requires determined open mindedness, careful reading and willingness to believe she is not a monster. I believe they are worth the effort.

Tune in next time to find out why.

The Right Tools (From the Cleveland Post February 24, 2011)

The Right Tools

by

K. S. Volcjak

Have you ever thought of words as tools?

As with many recent insights, my children brought on this one. My children and the need to teach them, that is.

Okay, discipline them.

Our overwhelming desire to be fair with our children means that every collision of wills results in a lot of 'splaining to do. At least at some point.

But discipline sticks best when it is clear and quick. As you might guess by now, my on-the-spot explaining is not likely to be quick. (I hope I am clear, eventually).

What to do?

Humans use tools to make the work manageable, which brings me to tool-words.

Tool-words are words or phrases that are pre-loaded with a whole lot of meaning. We talk about them in advance, so when a problem arises there isn't much to talk about.

'Naughty Chair' was the first tool-word I found. Picked it up from Jo, the "Supernanny."

In this case, it is not just a word. It's also a child-sized oak school chair that sits next to the front door.

The phrase and the chair work something like this:

Mama: "Time to put away your toys."

Beloved Child: "No."

Mama: "Go sit in the naughty chair."

Beloved Child: (storms off to sit in naughty chair.)

Really. Why they go obediently to the naughty chair immediately after refusing another instruction is beyond me. But they do.

It works so well that I mobilized it. There is a section of floor in every grocery store, waiting room, and friend's house that morphs, when necessary, into the Naughty Spot.

Eventually, the reminder of the naughty chair is sufficient to get them to modify their attitude.

You may be thinking: "Naughty chair? Isn't that a little judgmental? Why not use 'Time-out' like everybody else?"

"Time-out" has its place. But using a non-judgmental word in a situation where judgment is most definitely rendered can lead a child to conclude that "time out" means "naughty." It becomes a euphemism. Not a lesson I want to teach.

One of the lessons that the "naughty chair" came preloaded with is that Mama and Daddy know things Beloved Children do not. They are responsible for keeping everyone safe, healthy, fed and clothed. That means they are the ones who make the rules. Disobeying the rules is naughty and results in unpleasant consequences.

Prompt obedience is not about power-tripping, control freak parents. Ultimately, prompt obedience by young children is a safety issue. Think about it.

*****

I got another great tool-word from the fantastic forest rangers at Clemmons Educational State Forest. They conduct educational programs for elementary school children throughout the year. Effective communication is key if they are to keep students safe and engage them in learning about cool things like owl pellets.

They gave me-and the children -'stories' as a tool-word.

The rangers found that asking "Does anybody have a question?" caused hands to shoot into the air, but not for questions. They wanted to share their outdoors experiences, whether they obviously related to the field trip or not. They wanted to share stories.

Which ate into the time and flow of the great wildlife programs. So, how to encourage the interest without ruining the show?

The did it by reminding the students to focus on questions and giving them the word 'stories' to describe the thing they wanted to say that wasn't a question. Then they set aside time for stories after the programs.

When a child can't contain himself and launches into telling about the time Uncle Joe fell out of the boat, the ranger redirects him firmly but kindly with "That's a story, save it for later." He's made it clear that the timing is the problem, not the student, not the story.

It's brilliant. Simple definitions, clear boundaries, all established from the outset. Interruption dealt with, enthusiasm redirected, on to the next predator.

That's a lot of heavy lifting with just a few words. Tool-words.

Grown-up Words? (From the Cleveland Post, January 27, 2011)

Grown-up Words?

by K. S. Volcjak

Building a child's vocabulary is an important parental responsibility. Oh, how proud we are when our child begins rolling long, grown-up words around in their minds and off their tongues.

Well, not all those grown-up words.

For a long time, my daughter had a rather prim aversion to those words designated in my early years as 'cuss words,' words that come out of my mouth from time to time. Sponge-like, she picked up a lot of my vocabulary and used it, but not those words, and I was grateful. I feel about those words the way I imagine smokers feel about smoking - don't pick up my bad habits.

Now, that aversion has faded. I have started to hear them, usually muttered under her breath, but I can hear them.

Just like my mother could. Once, when I was about my daughter's age, I got caught. I was half-way out the door to go play after supper on a school night. My mother told me to be home earlier than I wanted to be home. I let out an exclamation, thinking I was out of earshot.

"What did you say?"

"'Ship', Mother. I said 'Ship.'" I replied, popping those p's against my lips for all they were worth and compounding the crime of using a vulgar word by adding a lie.

That wasn't my first encounter with words. As my mother tells it, the first time she caught me, she washed my mouth out with soap. Ivory soap. She says I liked the taste of it.

What's a mother to do?

The thing is, I have a difficult relationship with cuss words. I tried to not cuss. I invented substitutes - 'shirtsleeves', 'ding-a-ling-a-bing-dang-it', 'good garden hamburgers!'

But I am a writer because words have power for me, and cuss words are quite potent. Substitutes catch people off guard and diffuse tension with a chuckle but they are not powerful.

For one thing, cuss words are forbidden to children, and so children come to see the use of them as a grown-up thing. They want to grow up, be adult, so they use them. Ick.

In my family, they were always used with a certain passion. There wasn't much casual cussing. Well, not in mixed company.

Most often, cuss words were reserved for desperate situations, like when the outboard motor wouldn't start, after a whole morning spent packing up and driving down to the water. They came out with the raw emotional pain of family arguments, or in deep anger at the cosmos, calling down God's wrath on the fools in power during elections or scandals or the normal sausage-making of political life. Cussing like that seemed to be a way of shaking your fist at the universe, to let 'them' know that you matter and won't be kicked around like that.

'Cussed' is, of course, a corruption of 'cursed,' but it has taken on a life of its own. Sometimes life has a certain cussedness to it - not the wrath of the gods, but the stubbornness of gravity or wet pavement or heartbreak. There is an emotional release in saying those words in those times.

Children mature, begin seeing their place in the larger world, begin seeing the slings and arrows as personal attacks by outrageous fortune. In one way, the child's cry of "It's not fair!" grows up into cuss words.

Powerful words. Powerful enough to stimulate academic research into the psychological and physiological impacts of uttering them. They meet a need (Really: check out "Profanity" on Wikipedia).

And yet - they are ugly as sin. The first time I saw a professional woman cuss, I was stunned. It was ugly, and I got a sick feeling when I realized I had looked like that.

I can't make my daughter stop cussing, but I can tell her how ugly it is. I can tell her how it will lower her in the regard of people worthy of respect, how it will keep them from taking her seriously, and how that hurts. I can continue my battle and let her see it. And I can hope she gets it sooner than I did.

Perspectives (From the Cleveland Post, January 13, 2011)

Perspectives

by K. S. Volcjak

I am really curious to know what people think about events going on around us. As part of my research for this column, I read the letters to the editor in the paper and comments posted on local news sites. Sometimes, it gets to me.

Occasionally, the comment pages contain interesting, respectful, and insightful exchanges on the story. The heart-felt prayers and sympathies for folks in dire straits are touching. It's that unspoken qualification that some people tack on that is aggravating: sympathy applies only in the absolute absence of contributory negligence, as determined by their infallible common sense.

The headlines can be even more frustrating, particularly when the story has to do with schools. People who love words enough to use them professionally should come up with something more nuanced than crayons in the hands of a kindergartener. "Just the facts" headlines can be red meat to those convinced all we need is the hand basket and that mere employment by a school system constitutes contributory negligence. It's hard to read the evidence after they have slobbered over it.

When the following exchange occurred recently at our house, I couldn't help but imagine how it would play out on an internet news site.

Mama: "Pick up your Lego box and put it away."

Son: "I can't find it. Can you help me find it?"

Mama: "No."

Resulting headline: "Mother Refuses Young Son's Plea for Help"

Can you imagine the online abuse I would be in for? They'd want to take my children and tie my tubes if it hadn't already been done.

The cooler heads often look for more information. Here it is:

Mama (in the middle of cleaning house): "Pick up your Lego box and put it away."

Son (soon to be 7 years old, stands stock-still in living room with back to coffee table, staring directly in front of him. Box in question can be clearly seen behind him. Two seconds earlier, he indicated he knew it was in the direction of the coffee table): "I can't find it. Can you help me?"

Mama: "No."

Of course, I am helping him- helping him build self-reliance and develop his visual acuity.

Not that this would stop the online abuse. 'Something Else' must be going on for a child to simply freeze and ask for help without moving. The on-line judges likely think I have abused him or he is mentally challenged. They are not fools. They know these things. And its always the parent's fault.

Well, he's not abused and he is not mentally challenged. In fact, he is quite bright ("May you have intelligent children" - a blessing, or a curse?).

But they are right about one thing: it is the parents' fault. The parents talk too much, me in particular.

You see, I like to explain things. And my son, being a curious, observant and creative child, has developed this knowledge into a particularly elegant form of procrastination: Keep Mama talking, keep the ball in her court with 'how' and 'why' questions (she loves those!) until she has done most of the work by demonstrating how to do it.

Brilliant!

I'm sure he never intended for his work-avoidance-technique to expose me to ridicule or worse.

Having identified this tactic, I am working to Nip It In The Bud. But even though I try to keep my voice down and observe traditional Southern strictures against Being Ugly and Making A Scene In Public, I can look like a Mean Mama to those who don't know me.

I'm not sure its a good thing that people are braver online than they are in Food Lion. I do like to hear what other folks have to say - but not when it is none of their business.

*****

I really am curious to hear your take. Drop me a line at ksvolcjak@gmail.com

Goodwill, Will Good (From the Cleveland Post, December 30, 2010)

"Good Will. Will Good"

By K. S. Volcjak

Goodwill. It is a Christmas word, but it has been rattling around in my head since my son had to memorize the Law of the Pack to earn his Bobcat Badge in Cub Scouts earlier this fall. 'The Cub Scout gives goodwill' is the last line in the Law of the Pack.

It stuck in my head because 'gives goodwill' is an awkward way of putting it. 'Goodwill' is a thing, but 'will' is an action. How do you give an action?

Yeah, I know I'm over-thinking this. They're first graders.

But it bugged me.

In search of clarity, I Googled the definition of 'goodwill.'

Would you believe the first hits listed had to do with money? "Goodwill: An intangible asset which provides a competitive advantage, such as a strong brand, reputation, or high employee morale. In an acquisition, goodwill appears on the balance sheet of the acquirer in the amount by which the purchase price exceeds the net tangible assets of the acquired company." (from investorwords.com).

More to the point, Merriam-Webster.com defined goodwill as "A kindly feeling of approval or support; benevolent interest or concern." 'Support' is helpful, but 'feeling' and 'approval' most definitely are not. The great struggles of humanity often include reconciling 'feeling' with 'will' or 'The Right Thing To Do'.

(As in: I knew I should joyfully thank my grandmother for the vest she lovingly crocheted to be my Christmas gift, but the ugly colors drained my joy and challenged my will. I loved her, so I thanked her the best I could.)

I played around with the definitions and the word and the sentence. 'Love' is a thing and an action, similar to 'goodwill.' But we say "I love," not "I give love." So "The Cub Scout wills --good?"

This is a step forward, for me. Still, how to explain it to a first grader?

I tried some examples out in imaginary conversations with my son. "Well, when somebody on your team makes a mistake, you encourage them to do better next time because you know they did their best."

"But Mom, what if he didn't do his best? What if he was goofing off?"

I swear children are born lawyers. "Well,...." I think a moment. "Okay, how about this. You are lining up at school and the guy behind you bumps you with his lunch box. When he says it was an accident, you believe him. That is giving goodwill."

"But Mom, Lily Lovenote is behind me in line and she always bumps me with her lunch box on purpose and she doesn't mean it when says it was an accident."

Children have no grasp of the hypothetical. You'd think I'd remember this by now.

On the other hand, sometimes I give up too soon. I tried again.

"How do you know she always does it on purpose?"

"Because she usually has this smirk on her face."

"Usually?"

"Well, there was that one time when Tylersaurus Rex bumped into the whole back of the line and made her bump into me. Fall on me, actually."

'On purpose' or accident. Mean or clumsy. Liar or not. Here is a clue, a place to start.

"Okay." I said. "Do you want Lily to get in trouble for something she didn't do?"

"No."

"Giving goodwill means that you want things to be fair even for people who make you mad sometimes."

"I guess."

It's a start.

Goodwill. Will good. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" (including staying out of the way!). "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." The circle grows, as it must for those who ponder the words and listen to the angels, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward men."

Defining the Problem, Inside and Outside of the Box (from The Cleveland Post, November 18, 2010)

Defining the Problem, Inside and Outside of the Box

by

Kathleen S. Volcjak

I love this quote from Donald Rumsfeld:

"There are known knowns. These are the things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we know we don't know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don't know we don't know."

Learning to figure out which is which is (or should be) one of the main goals of education. I have tutored elementary and middle school students in math on and off for over fifteen years, and it is this skill that trips most of them up. Given 327 x 6, they know what to do (multiply) and what to do it to (327 and 6). No unknowns here.

But what to do when the multiplication sign is taken away and replaced with words?! Sometimes there are extra numbers, too, and the point is for the student to learn to sort through what is relevant and what is not, what is known but not relevant.

Children often provide their own examples of what is known but irrelevant. Consider this problem: "It takes Rick's mother fifteen minutes to drive from their home to his Cub Scout meeting. If his mother leaves at 5:30, what time will they arrive at the meeting?" Adults get to the point (hopefully) that they see it's the same elapsed time problem as 'If Molly puts the cookies in the oven at 5:30 and they bake for fifteen minutes, what time will it be when she takes them out?'

But not children. They make associations with words, like how Mama grumbles about the traffic after school and that time there was an accident and they sat next to Bojangles and smelled the fried chicken for a really long time. It becomes perfectly reasonable for a child capable of calculating elapsed time to say "I don't know" because, for her, the effect of traffic is a relevant known unknown.

The farther we move from being students, the more complex the problems become. We become the ones who create them and the ones responsible for developing answers. Not a comforting thought, considering the groans the mere mention of 'word problems' draws from many old enough to know better.

And so we come to the state budget. $3 billion dollars more scheduled to go out than expected to come in. Governor Bev Perdue has asked all agencies to present budgets showing 5%, 10%, and 15% cuts, and is also putting together proposals for restructuring government all together. Fine, as far as it goes.

But this is where the known knowns, the known unknowns and the unknown unknowns come in to play. We ought to know by now that the biggest known known in the budget is that the good times don't last. "When will they end?" and "Why did they end?" are open questions, known unknowns. But as new technology develops new markets and situations faster than we can identify potential economic hazards, "Why?" is also an unknown unknown.

It should be a no-brainer that the budget should serve all the people of the state and spend their tax dollars in a manner that honors the work and, perhaps, sacrifice that generated them in the first place.

To that end, one hopes the best resources are put to defining this budget - and that our legislators listen to them. Our state motto is "To be, rather than to seem" and our legislators should act accordingly, going for substance, not flash. They should use history and economics to flesh out the knowns and the unknowns into their various likelihoods. They should think inside and outside the box to put together a robust budget that covers the basics, anticipates bumps in the road and provides flexible responses. Then, prioritize what's left and add the high priority items.

Yeah, well.

In the mean time, encourage your children and grandchildren to get up to speed on math. If it was not your favorite subject, keep that to yourself and maybe get some help with it (studies show success in math increases with age!). It is a known known there will be more budget trouble in the future. If our children can't work out the math then, who will?