The problem with car horns

                            

Typically, my morning route to La Salle takes me to the south gate entrance of the lower parking lot, so I don’t often experience the congestion that takes place in front of the School during student drop-off at the time of the warning bell prior to the start of first block (I’m told it isn’t pretty).   Not too long ago, however, I had an 8am meeting with a donor in Sierra Madre, so I found myself driving north on Hastings Ranch Drive with the intention of turning right onto Sierra Madre Boulevard. The light was red, so I came to a stop, looked to my left and, proceeded to make a right-hand turn, thinking there was sufficient time to do so without impeding oncoming traffic. Apparently, I was wrong, because an SUV caught up behind me and, while leaning on the horn, proceeded to swerve to the left and then immediately cut into my lane, just in front of me. It appeared to me that the driver was angry that my poor judgment prevented him (her?) from arriving at the intended location in a timely manner. So, imagine my surprise when, not more than 1000 feet later, the driver pulled over to the curb in front of La Salle to drop off a student. I say, surprise, because I can only imagine the conversation between student and parent at that particular moment of high drama: “I’m going to be late and I’ll have to serve a detention and miss (insert activity) after school!”

              I suppose that this is a typical dialogue between most teenagers and their parents at some point in time. Having grown up in New York, my version of that conversation entailed getting out the door and to the bus stop in time – only it was my mother urging me to avoid the detention! So, I recognize that it was ever thus. What troubles me about the particular scene which I encountered on a certain Thursday morning was the SUV driver’s use of the car horn as an instructional tool. I say “instructional” because I’ve noticed over my nearly 20 years living in Los Angeles that the car horn – initially designed as a safety/warning device – appears to be more frequently used as a means of informing someone else of their errant behavior behind the wheel of a car – an electronic version of “You’re an idiot!” Don’t get me wrong – I spent a significant chunk of my life in NYC – so I’m used to horns blaring. But, for the most part, blaring horns were the provenance of taxi drivers, not SUV drivers. Yes, any visitor to Manhattan will recall the incessant use of the car horn; but, in general, their function is to alert another car driver that they are dangerously close to another vehicle (or to point out that cutting off another vehicle in order to make it through a changing stop light is a foolish choice). So, from my perspective, a blaring horn ought to be for the purpose of alerting another driver that an oncoming train is about to bring a life, well-lived, to a premature end.

              Not so in Los Angeles.

I get how frustrating traffic congestion is here (it really is worse than NYC). I get the frustration drivers experience when unexpected events clog the freeways (I’ve had too many heart-thumping-just-in-time- to-get-on-my-plane-at-LAX moments). What I don’t get is – other than providing an outlet for a person’s frustration at losing control of one’s expected arrival time – why leaning on a car horn is an acceptable response to the unexpected behavior of a complete stranger who, undoubtedly, is making his/her own assumptions about what is taking place at a particular moment. In my situation, I am ready to grant that I may have misjudged the distance between me and the oncoming vehicle. If so, a quick tap on the horn would (it seems to me) alert me to my error. A blaring horn (it seems to me) is a statement about my poor driving skills (most of my family and friends would agree) rather than a reminder to be more careful next time, or a quick alert that I am too close to an oncoming vehicle. The blaring horn, the rapid movement to circumnavigate my car and the immediate move to the curb tells me that, not only have I inconvenienced the offended driver, but that I needed to be taught a lesson.

              Perhaps I do – but I don’t think that responsibility should be held by any driver (especially in LA!) who is irritated by my – seemingly – poor judgment in a situation that transpired in less than two minutes. I especially don’t think that responsibility should be shouldered by a harried parent who is anxiously trying to ensure that the student passenger avoids being late for school. Here’s why…

              What’s the worst that can happen … an afternoon detention that becomes an inconvenient interruption into an already overscheduled day? Actually, that’s not the worst that can happen. The worst that can happen is that a teenager learns that it is okay to vent anger at strangers who may (or may not) have made a poor choice. We see too much of that among our peers in today’s society.  We (perhaps) agree that everyone should exercise more patience, more tolerance towards others. We worry about how to ensure that the next generation behaves in a responsible manner with respect to situations that, inevitably, they will not be able to control. But, what we don’t necessarily appreciate is that they are watching us and watching how we react to unexpected situations. They learn from us – without our ever noticing – that our reactions teach them how they should react.

One of the most difficult challenges I face in my role as a leader of the La Salle community is paying attention to the fact that my every reaction is parsed for its significance to those around me. I don’t always get it right – and my colleagues are there to help me accept that. I can’t imagine how difficult it is for parents to endure a lifetime of scrutiny. I only know that if we aren’t prepared to notice that our reactions to unplanned disruptions to our routine have consequences beyond the momentary annoyance, we run the risk of sending mixed signals to those for whom we have the greatest hope will be able to move our fragmented world closer to embracing the values of respect, tolerance and giving others the benefit of the doubt.

I think we would all benefit from putting the car horn on mute.

             

When everyone is shouting, no one is listening

"May you live in interesting times" is commonly attributed to a traditional Chinese proverb. While seemingly a blessing, the expression is normally used ironically in that “uninteresting” times is generally a preferred situation for most people. Regardless of one’s political persuasion, I think we can all agree that we are definitely living in interesting times. What I want to comment on, however, is not the latest news (fake or otherwise) coming out of the Nation’s Capital (or, indeed, any State Capital) but, rather, the unintended consequences of the shouting, finger-pointing and “holier than thou” attitudes which increasingly characterize conversations in the public square. The recent partial shutdown of the Federal Government is a case in point. Including the one just ended, each of the last four government shutdowns occurred because of ideological challenges that had nothing to do with the issue at hand: enacting a continuing resolution to fund the government until Congress is ready to approve the annual budget. We teach our students that a continuing resolution is a simple tool designed to continue last fiscal year’s authorized spending patterns until disagreements surrounding next year’s budget can be resolved. So, they ask “Why is new stuff put in that doesn’t have anything to do with the continuing resolution?”

Good question.

With this most recent shutdown, both political parties are guilty as charged with “putting stuff in” that shouldn’t be there. The answer, of course, is complicated – beginning with the tired meme “playing to their base” – which while tired, is generally the first problem with this dysfunctional method of funding the Federal Government. The Democrats were “playing to their base” by insisting on addressing immigration issues. During the Obama Administration, a 15 day shutdown was driven by the Republicans desire to limit – or eliminate – the Affordable Care Act. Neither objective should have ever seen the light of day in a continuing resolution. So why do our political parties pursue this strategy? Because (in my opinion), they have lost the ability to manage the art of compromise. One could make the argument that the need to pass a continuing resolution is a function of the failure to compromise with respect to the approval of a full budget. In the words of Country Music Singer, Kenny Rogers,

“you have to know when to hold ‘em and know when to fold ‘em.”

By playing to their bases, our political parties inherently understand that they can’t risk “folding their cards” and angering their base. Compromise is the victim of this short-sided approach. Recently elected Red state (Alabama) Democratic Senator Doug Jones observed that this approach robs the Senate of its most vaunted characteristic as the world’s greatest deliberative body (1a: the act of thinking about or discussing something and deciding carefully: the act of deliberating).

So why comment on this now? Because, as with so many other national, political, social and cultural issues, when our students see social and political dysfunction on television (and increasingly) on Social Media; they are inherently absorbing lessons which are antithetical to the values we seek to promote at school and which you seek to promote at the dinner table. As I’ve commented in this space before: if everyone is shouting, no one is listening. What makes matters worse is the plummeting rates of voter participation in local, state and national elections. When our students witness gridlock in Washington, even the most compelling civics lesson taught by the most charismatic teacher isn’t going to counteract their perception that things are broken, and their inevitable conclusion that elections can’t – or won’t – fix them.

We want our students to listen to each other, their teachers and parents. We want them to respect positions with which they don’t agree and, most importantly, in a world touched by Original Sin, we want them to learn the art of compromise. As a Catholic school, we emphasize that perfection is to be found in Heaven and not on earth. Compromise is the only strategy capable of moving any issue, project or cause closer to perfection. After 30 years as a Catholic school administrator, I know that La Salle is the best school I’ve ever had the privilege to lead. I also know it isn’t perfect and that, without the art of compromise, it will not become even better than it now is. I want our young people to appreciate the art of compromise when it comes time for them to assume leadership roles in business, social institutions or politics. That hope can’t be realized without willing partnerships beyond home and school. However, I don’t see us returning to “uninteresting times” in the near future.

Maybe we should turn the TV off for a while

It's not easy combating bad boy behavior

For quite some time I’ve avoided commenting on the twin scourges of sexual abuse and sexual harassment; the former because of the obvious mishandling of the issue by our own Church over the course of the last three or four decades; the latter because, quite frankly, it has been a head-scratcher for me to learn – particularly lately – of the systemic and pervasive character of this sin against the seventh commandment in American society. I assure you, I am not being naïve. I recognize that men – especially men in positions of power and authority – can succumb to the temptation of using their influence in deleterious ways, particularly with respect to women. People of a certain age don’t need the disgusting behavior of Harvey Weinstein to be reminded that a Hollywood stereotype – the “casting couch” – was rooted in reality. What causes me to scratch my head these days is not only the extent of the scourge of sexual harassment but that it can be (and is) found in pretty much every occupational category one can imagine: entertainment, politics, journalism, sports, transportation and, yes, religion. And, now, we learn (November 17, 2017, National Catholic Reporter) that this scourge can be found in the hospitality industry.[1] Unhappily for Catholics, renowned New Orleans Chef John Besh, the subject of a months-long sexual harassment expose by the New Orleans Times-Picayune, is well known as a Catholic activist, having served on the advisory board of the Center for Ethics and Culture at the University of Notre Dame as well as participating in the Middle East Ecumenical group Chefs4Peace. I suppose it is naïve of me to think that an individual with such a deep commitment to his Catholic faith could lose his way in such a spectacularly calamitous fashion…yet another head scratcher.

This is particularly discouraging for me as one who has spent the last 40 years in Catholic education. After 40 years, I recognize that it is enormously challenging for parents to guide their teenagers safely through the rough and tumble world of adolescence. I have seen these challenges manifest themselves in different ways, whether it was the seventies, eighties, nineties or – especially –the current moment. Not only has Social Media fundamentally altered the landscape teenagers negotiate, but it has also created an environment in which information is shared instantaneously, giving adults little opportunity to shape their children’s understanding of its significance. Shaping how young people understand the world which surrounds them is central to the process of forming a values-based perspective. Those of us of a certain age remember that the dinner table served as a Petri dish for values formation. Discussing the day’s events, its challenges and successes, enabled parents to provide a context for the moral formation of their children's consciences. With the advent of Social Media, it is almost impossible to prepare children for the onslaught of the unmediated information to which they are exposed, let alone to put it in the context of a values-based world view. Which is why the prevalence of sexual harassment is such a head scratcher for me – how do we help teenagers learn how to respect others – especially women – when they are fed a steady diet of #metoo messages? How do they learn to manage their own emerging sexuality when adult celebrities – some of whom they may be inclined to admire – have clearly failed to embrace the messages of respect for the other that we are trying to teach them at home and at school?

As bleak as this appears (to me), I am encouraged by the rapid response trend of different institutions to the charge of sexual harassment: they are quickly severing ties with those individuals who have been credibly accused. While I want our teenagers to learn Respect for all persons (a Lasallian core value) in the classroom and at the dinner table, I recognize that we all need reinforcement of social values through negative consequences (I am not necessarily being an upstanding citizen because I obey the posted speed limit). While our teenagers are being exposed to a steady diet of “bad boy” behavior by adult celebrities, they are also learning that there is a price to be paid for it. I suspect that the scourge of sexual harassment will continue to unfold, but it will be met with an increasingly vigorous “zero tolerance” response. Our young people will observe this dynamic, going forward, and will, inevitably, make the necessary connection to the importance of the values we teach them at home and at school.

It will not be easy. I regularly tell parents that everyone has their individual demons which lurk just below the surface; unfortunately adolescence is that time when the filter hasn’t been fully developed – all the more challenging when they see too many adults who are incapable of maintaining their own filters. We need to double down on this challenge. While I am comforted at the prospect of a healthy student culture at La Salle enabling our teenagers to acquire appropriate pro-social skills when interacting with their peers, I also recognize that high school is a time in an adolescent’s life when the hormones try to throw a party and forget to invite the brain! Together, parents, teachers and administrators must confront the scourge of sexual harassment and equip our young people with the tools to resist the bad boy behavior of celebrities who should have known better.

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[1] Chef’s Catholic connections in spotlight after sexual harassment allegations

A lesson in heroism

Anyone who has spent any time in my native NYC knows that there are three major daily newspapers: The New York Times, the New York Daily News and The New York Post. Journalists call the NYT a “broadsheet”, the News and the Post “tabloids.” Like everything else in NYC, there is a pecking order, and a “broadsheet” is considered more respectable than a “tabloid.” So, imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was the “tabloid” Post that published this headline on October 4^th:

Moms thank MLB prospect who shielded them from Vegas gunman

That MLB prospect is Bowdein (“Bubba”) Derby ’12 and this is what the Post reported:

“Jori Apsit Jellison, a California native, says Milwaukee Brewers prospect Bowdien “Bubba” Derby, 23, saved her and a friend during Sunday’s deadly mass shooting, offering his support and staying with them until the horror was over.”

Not only that, but Bubba and his family shared their hotel suite with the two women until they could be safely reunited with their families.[i]

With the recent spate of mass shootings in public places, there has been a plethora of stories describing personal heroism in the face of outrageous danger. We are encouraged by these stories because they express, for us, the hope that, should we face similar circumstances, we would be similarly inclined towards heroism. It’s easier to feel that way when the heroic act is far removed and performed by a stranger we’ll never encounter. When the heroic act occurs closer to home and is performed by someone well known to us, there’s a certain sense of awe – perhaps fear - with which we greet the possibility that we, too, would be able to respond in a similar fashion. That having been said, we can’t ignore the fact that, when so many were fleeing the rain of bullets, Bubba risked his own life in choosing to care for the safety of two strangers.

As I reflect on Bubba’s act of heroism, I can’t help but think that this moment of spontaneous reaction to the needs of another person is not learned but ingrained in him by his family, his friends and (I hope) his school (both La Salle and Holy Angels).  I am humbled to have been a part of his world since 2008 (and his two sisters since 2000). Watching the three of them grow up at La Salle, I know that his parents, Al and Julie, are the central explanation for Bubba’s behavior as a teenager, a young adult and a hero. Because I have had the privilege of knowing his family for the better part of two decades, I am confident in my belief that Bubba could not not have acted any other way on that fateful night. And yet, he readily acknowledged his own fear:

"I remember looking in [my aunt's] eyes, and it was that look of 'Are we about to die? Is this it for us?'"

That all-too human fear didn’t prevent Bubba from doing what he knew he had to do; which reminds me of Eleanor Roosevelt’s famous comment on heroism:

We do not have to become heroes overnight. Just a step at a time, meeting each thing that comes up ... discovering we have the strength to stare it down.

Bubba has had a lifetime of discovering the strength to stare down obstacles in his path. While I’d like to think La Salle had a part to play in that process, I am convinced now, more than ever, that, in Bubba’s exemplary behavior that awful night, we find the true measure of the School’s success: when our graduates have something to teach us about what is noble and, in the end, heroic.

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[i] For more info - http://nypost.com/2017/10/04/moms-thank-mlb-prospect-who-shielded-them-from-vegas-gunman/

Lessons learned from a broken toe

           

A little over five years ago, I was walking in Manhattan in July when I managed to slam my right foot into a sidewalk that had been elevated by a nearby tree root – a common occurrence in my native NYC. I was wearing sandals at the time (a SoCal affectation that is frowned upon by most New Yorkers) and, wait for it, managed to break the big toe on my right foot. Ignoring the fact that there was blood everywhere, I managed to hobble into the local Walgreens, purchase miles of bandages, cover up the offending injury and move on with my day. Needless to say, being a (stereotypical) middle age male, it never occurred to me that I should see a physician. Fast forward to 2016, my right toe began to take the shape of an angry hump back whale that resulted in a fair amount of skin irritation whenever I wore dress shoes (which, as most of you know, is all the time).  Of course, this was a staph infection waiting to happen and, of course, I ignored it until I ended up in Urgent Care, whereupon emergency surgery was the only treatment of choice. That was 18 months ago. Since that time, I’ve had to endure orthopedic shoes, which redistributes my center of gravity, making me look like Captain Hook hobbling on a bad day. My physician explained that, once my toe stabilized, I could have corrective surgery, which would enable me to return to wearing normal shoes.

              Enter the present moment. Being the work-a-holic that I am, I had hoped to be able to schedule the second surgery during the summer as it required a minimum of two week’s recuperation. That’s when I learned the true meaning of “Managed Care.” As a Kaiser patient (and happily so for the last 25 years), I learned that non-emergency surgery is scheduled based on significance (major vs. minor surgery) and frequency of the procedure. It turns out that podiatric surgeries are not all that frequent and, consequently, I would have to wait until there were enough patients like myself to warrant the allocation of a surgical suite. That’s when I discovered “Managed Care” means “you manage your care.” After weeks of interacting with the automated scheduling system, I finally received a surgical appointment for the middle of September…great…now I would have to miss two weeks of school.

              Happily, the surgery was a success and, as I write this column, I am home learning how to be patient being a patient. As I near the end of my first week of recuperation, I have discovered five lessons concerning the beneficial – albeit unintended – consequences of having to take an unplanned amount of time off from work. Top Five Lessons:

#5 Take the time to think

We all gripe about how little time is available during the workday to just think. We’ve all heard (or been guilty of saying): “If only I had more time to think.” Well, now I have plenty of time to think and here’s what I have discovered: there really isn’t enough time in the workday to think. It is just too easy to fall into the temptation that, if I’m not doing something at work, then I am not being productive. And yet, in my role as President of La Salle, I am expected to see the “big picture” and to chart the trailing effects of any single decision (mine and others) made at any time during the work week. How can I measure up to that expectation if I don’t carve out some time to think? I’ve spent a lot of time this week thinking about the things I didn’t have time to think about last week and I am astonished at how much better I am at crafting solutions to the daily challenges I was previously managing on the fly. Because of my impending enforced solitude, I brought home a handful of big projects that would need my quality attention, and which would not receive it during an ordinary workweek, with a view that I would have plenty of time to think about how to execute them. The latter assumption has proven to be correct; ironically, I’ve made significant progress on only one of them. Which leads me to:

#4 Do not treat recuperation time as if it were “prison” time

A mere 24 hours after the surgery, I was wondering what I was going to do with two weeks’ worth of time at home in which I would have a limited ability to move around (as I write this, but for my patio, I haven’t been outside the house in a week). Surely, I thought, the next two weeks would move at a glacial pace and I would start to behave like Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (a dated reference, if you aren’t a Baby Boomer).  As I look back at the week now ending, I wonder – where did the time go? In point of fact, it was fairly evenly divided between sleeping more than I have in a very long time, reading books that have been piled up next to my desk for years, working on school projects and interacting with friends, colleagues and family; which leads to:

#3 Cheerfully accept the kindness of friends (and family)

My brother-in-law, a retired health care professional, flew in from Wisconsin to act as my personal Florence Nightingale (which was particularly appreciated when he arrived at midnight to administer the pain meds). At first, I felt guilty that I was imposing on his good nature and was reluctant to ask him to do things for me. As time went on, I realized I had to let go of my need to be independent and to give myself permission to accept his kindness – a very humbling moment for this “Type A” personality! In a similar way, I was surprised by the steady stream of visits, phone calls, texts and emails (not to mention the array of flower arrangements that arrived on my doorstep!) from friends and colleagues. Despite the toxic political environment we all face, empathy is alive and well in Pasadena … which leads me to:

#2 Recognize your colleagues need the break, too

Anyone who has worked with me over the last 18 years (employed/volunteer) will roll their eyes when they learn that my time away from the office has helped me to realize that my intense focus on moving the School forward can be exhausting for everyone who gets sucked into my orbit. While I continue to struggle with the notion that I didn’t need a break from work, it has become clear to me that they needed recovery time at least as much as I did. They get to catch up on their “to do” list while I am gone; free from the dreaded “Richard question:” Have you thought about this idea? Which leads me to the #1 lesson I’ve learned while recovering from surgery:

#1 God writes straight with crooked lines

My Sottish-Irish father constantly reminded us of this admonition from the time we could walk. Whatever went right/wrong, he would remind us of this principle: we can’t know the long-term consequences of what is happening to us right now because “God writes straight with crooked lines.” Each zig/zag in our journey is there for a purpose and the straight path those curves feed into is only visible when we look in the “rear view mirror” decades after they happened. Certainly my own journey as a Catholic educator provided enough zigs and zags that, when I started teaching in a Catholic high school on the edge of the South Bronx in the 1970s, I never imagined I’d end up in Southern California 40 years later.  In a similar fashion, I never imagined that, when I arrived at La Salle 18 years ago, I would find myself obsessing about how I would handle two weeks away from work and the necessity of reevaluating how I structure my time to accomplish the tasks necessary to ensure the School’s continued success now and in the future. And yet, that is exactly my “take-away” from this experience. God needed to remind me that I’m not essential to the School’s success without the support and collaboration of my family, friends and colleagues. I needed to take the time to see the “big picture” that I am constantly reminding everyone else to look for; to recognize that this particular zig/zag in my journey at La Salle was necessary to ensure that I become more aware of everyone else’s journey and the crooked lines they – inevitably – must negotiate.

Not a bad lesson to be learned from a five-year old broken toe.

How to have a good day

“Someone ate my summer!” was my answer to a parent’s question about how life was treating me as we both experienced the first day of school. I’ve come to the conclusion that the cliché – the older we get, the faster time speeds by – is also a truism. For most of my administrative life, I’ve had the luxury of using summertime to catch up on work that languished on my desk in the run up to Graduation. So, I was discouraged to see the same piles on my desk as our students returned for the start of a new school year. To be sure, there were plenty of reasons for my lack of administrative progress: an exciting partnership with Kids Klub which brought elementary school children on our campus (it was a delight for me to encounter their cheerful young faces on a daily basis), the long hoped for launch of the renovation of the Blakeslee Library, the opportunity to make a presentation at a Principals Conference in Boston, a gaggle of lunch/dinner encounters with donors and, happily, two quick trips to my favorite island in the Pacific.  Still, I wonder what I could have done differently in order to manage my time better.

              I’m not a big fan of “self-help” literature, but in search of a summer reading project, I stumbled across How to Have a Good Day - Harness the Power of Behavior Science to Transform Your Working Life by Caroline Webb. Its main thesis consists of constructing a “good” day by focusing on three elements:

·       Aim – what matters most today?

·       Attitude – what concerns do I have about today?

·       Attention – what do I want to make sure I notice today?

Upon reflection, I realized that all three elements seek to push me out of my comfort zone of task-oriented behaviors to people-oriented behaviors. As I contemplated how to put more energy into the latter strategy, I realized that my frustration with the long-lasting piles on my desk was really a product of how, over the years, I had come to define success: a neat and clean desktop! My aim has been to move paper; my attitude – efficiency; my attention was to work through a “to do” list. Obviously, efficiency in getting things done is a necessary part of everybody’s work day; but as I looked back at a very fast summer, I realized that the activities I enjoyed the most found me engaged with other people: problem solving, brainstorming, and strategizing. I found in those activities that what matters most is being available to others; my daily concern is to be helpful and what I want to make sure I notice are opportunities to encourage the success of my colleagues.

              In a way, the students entrusted to our care are confronted by the same dynamic I faced this summer: balancing efficiency and productivity with the need to build a community of care and concern. This dynamic is embedded in the Five Core Principles of a Lasallian School:

·       Faith in the presence of God

·       Quality education

·       Social Justice and concern for the poor

·       Inclusive community

·       Respect for all persons

I am fond of summarizing these five principles with this imperative: at La Salle, we produce good students and good people…in other words, we expect our students to be efficient and productive with respect to their classroom responsibilities while also developing a faith-filled appreciation for service to others in a welcoming and supportive community.  They, too, are faced with the daily task of determining their aim, attitude and attention. As teenagers, they are beset with competing claims on how to establish personal priorities. They know – often better than the adults in their lives – how difficult it is to appreciate what’s important at any given point in time. They recognize they need our help, but often don’t know how to ask for it – and we can – sometimes – give them mixed signals as to what ought to be important.

              As we launch another school year at La Salle (my 19^th!), I know that I must remind myself of how important it is to balance my priorities between efficiency and quality interactions with those around me. I need, also, to remind myself of the importance of setting a good example for the students entrusted to my care. I look forward to the challenge!

The making of a Saint

Not long ago, we received a wonderful email from Duke Banks ’64, which was triggered by his receipt of the School’s annual Christmas card. The card featured a portrait of Brother Solomon, our newest Lasallian saint, with an explanation of how his canonization was approved by the Congregation for the Causes of Saints because of a miraculous cure of a young girl in Caracas, Venezuela. It seemed altogether a bizarre connection between an obscure 18^th Century Christian Brother who was martyred in the French Revolution and the Catholic community in Caracas who had been venerating a statue of Brother Solomon over the course of the last fifty years. It turns out Duke’s extended Venezuelan family (he was born in Caracas with Venezuelan heritage on both sides) was intimately connected to educational institutions sponsored by the Christian Brothers in Central America. Somewhere, along the way, a statue of Brother Solomon ended up in a chapel serving residents living on the outskirts of Caracas. The Chaplain, who was educated by the Christian Brothers, gave the statue pride of place in the Sanctuary and, upon its installation, declared:

“We receive Blessed Solomon, and we will yet make him a Saint.”

It only took a mere fifteen years for that to happen.

I dwell on this wonderful story because it seems to me that as the English Romantic Poet, William Wordsworth, penned at the time of the Industrial Revolution:

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers

His critique, back then (and, perhaps, applicable to this modern-day moment) was described by one critic as: “the decadent material cynicism of the time.” The current news cycle is rife with apocalyptic stories of political intrigue, charges of cronyism and a never-ending (and exhausting) Washington battle over how to provide health care for 22 million people who would not, ordinarily, have a reasonable opportunity to access it. It is at times like this that I conclude that “the world is too much with us.”

I suppose it was ever thus. After all Saint Solomon was confronted by the awful choice of denying his vowed commitment to the Church and losing his life – and that was over two hundred years ago! I think we can learn something from Brother Solomon’s steadfast commitment to his vows. We may be fortunate not to have to consider the ultimate sacrifice in defense of our life’s commitments, but we aren’t excused – any more than Saint Solomon was – from living our lives with dignity and integrity. Here is what Brother Robert Schieler, the Superior General of the Christian Brothers had to say about Brother Solomon at the time of his canonization:

“Brother Solomon gives us a lesson of great integrity and loyalty with the options taken, even at the sacrifice of his life. And God only knows how necessary it is today to live with integrity and loyalty in a world where it has become normal to trample rights unscrupulously against our conscience, against others and against God, for mere interest and profit ... Secondly, there is another message that Brother Solomon proposes to Christian teachers and consecrated persons in general: to be witnesses of Christ, whatever the cost.  The world today needs more than ever loyalty, consistency, justice, generosity, altruism even at the cost of your own life. “

This last sentence captures, for me, the essential challenge this Lasallian school in Pasadena must face every day if we are to be faithful to the principles of our founding Brothers as well as those in a long line of Brothers who preceded and followed Saint Solomon: to exercise loyalty, consistency, justice, generosity and altruism even when the world around us appears to have abandoned them.

As we begin a new year at La Salle (my nineteenth!), let’s pray that the courage and integrity that inspired Saint Solomon will enable all of us who are responsible for the students entrusted to our care to demonstrate a similar, quiet heroism in the midst of a world that sometimes seems to have lost its bearings. After 60 years of fidelity to the principles of Saint John Baptist de La Salle, the Founder of the Christian Brothers, I think this Lasallian community is up to the challenge.