Churchill High - Seriously?

I heard something yesterday that really ticked me off.

This week we learned of a pair of teachers from Winnipeg (Manitoba, Canada) who engaged in rather raunchy and completely inappropriate dance as a part of a competition being held for the school's Spirit Week.  These teacher's are from Churchill High School.  The dance is being described as one "in which the man appeared to rub against the woman and simulate oral sex — lasted about a minute."  One youth simply said it "looked like sex in the gym."

So this in itself is bad enough.  But this is what riled me; one radio commentator says, "these teacher's should learn in university that this is not acceptable."

Seriously?  They didn't know?  Come on! 

What would cross anyone's mind for even a second that maybe, just maybe, somehow this act would be seen as acceptable?  Have we denigrated our own society this much that we don't have the where with all to know right from wrong?

Student Saigha Vincent recorded the dance on her phone and posted the one minute clip on Youtube.  Her father, Tim Galay, said, "It’s common. There’s dancing stuff going on all the time, on dancing shows and that. I don’t think it’s that big a deal.”  

Come on! I am a dad and this IS a problem!  I don't know how anyone can justify the actions of the teachers.  There is no conceivable way that a student attending a school spirit event at their high school should ever be exposed to such live sexually suggestive dancing by teachers who we trust our children to be with for, get ready for it...education.  Try as they might, this is not, was not and can not be educationally appropriate.

These teachers were wrong.  Their judgement must be questioned.  Parent's must be questioned as well, those who do not see such acts as concerning.  Really?  Put your son or daughter in the role of those teachers and tell me you wouldn't have a problem with their soft porn in the school gym.

Well, there it is.  I had to put it out there.  We are losing any sense of self respect, morality and decency if we fail to see these actions as a problem.

Everyone has a story.  I am sure this one isn't done yet.

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Transient Joys

Late last summer I rode into a local parking lot that is a common ground for motorbikes, and their riders, stopping to take a break.  On this day, there was only one other person there with a bike, but I stopped and we talked.  Bikers will almost invariably take the time to talk with other bikers.

On this particular day, this gentleman, who appeared to have taken the scorn of many years, seemed to be a jovial mood.  I casually asked how he was doing to which he replied “Could be better.”  Further talk revealed that he had cancer.  Well, that’s an easy conversation to engage in, but I figured hey let’s give it a try.

This man went on to explain that he was going to live the last days of his life “drinking, chasing women and getting high smoking pot!”  I said “Wow!  Are you happy?”  The mood changed and he said hesitantly, “No.”

How often do we put on the front for the sake of others?  If I didn’t want to know how you were doing I wouldn’t ask.  Sure I know it’s a habit to ask people, “How are you?” or, “How you doing?”  But if we take the time to actively listen to someone, we would inevitably learn something new.

So here’s a guy, riding his Harley-Davidson, drinking coffee with me, tired and worn out from the ravages of life and cancer, who tries to come across as a party animal who is just looking for a good time, yet, is admittedly unhappy.  

That is sad.

All the years this man has lived, looking for purpose and reason to his life, through parties, exploits, drugs, alcohol and God only knows what else, yet here he stands alone in a parking lot talking to me, a complete stranger, admitting he isn’t happy.

We talked about hope, and the only true source of hope, but he wasn’t ready to hear it.  I sincerely hope that before his time comes up, he takes the time to listen to someone and hear that he has an alternative to his sorrowful life.  An opportunity to experience lasting joy and peace, not the transient nature of the joys of the world.

Everyone has a story.  What’s yours? 

rowleywriter@gmail.com

What Would Jesus Ride?

The Christian Motorcycle Association has a series of small cards on their display at a local bike show that read, “Jesus would ride a Harley”.  A member of an outlaw club said to me this weekend as we were admiring the skill and rare creativity it took to design this particular trike, “I bet they won’t have bikes like this in Heaven”.  I kindly advised that Heaven will have only the best bikes (if there are any at all, and I personally expect them to be there) so I would expect to see it there.

I went online to look up the question of ride choices of God and Jesus.  I am not the first to ponder such questions.  Of course, the majority say He would ride a Harley-Davidson, but there are some claiming he would ride older classic bikes, others saying he would ride something very unassuming and would not stand out in a crowd.  I read one person saying that if Jesus were to ride in India His choice would be a “Cow-asaki.”

The two best answers that I came across were somewhat an overlap of the ideas that others expressed; a Harley-Davidson ‘Road King’ and any make of ‘Triumph’.  Road King, because nothing suits the King of Kings better than a bike named King, and a Triumph as God will be Triumphant.

But really, why do we care?  Or maybe we don’t really care.  We are just filling time talking about pointless and meaningless topics because that’s what we do in our attempts to appear, at least somewhat, intelligent.

There are far more important issues at hand.  Issues facing humanity that far exceed the ramblings of senseless arguments of spiritual bike choices.  Struggles such as child prostitution, human trafficking, starvation, lack of medical treatments, declining morality amongst the new generations, secular humanism and natural disasters.  If we would spend time on such legitimate concerns, possibly we could see that there are aspects of life that we can make a difference in.  

We have all heard, “For little more than the cost of a cup of coffee a day...”  I assure you, though, money isn’t the answer.  It is people with concern.  People with a foundation of morality.  Families who are based on biblical truths, not extremism.  Care and concern is vanishing, especially if the soundtrack of the television fund raiser isn’t playing in the background stirring emotions in the soul that just yesterday had rejected a door to door fund raiser for missing children.  Suddenly we care.

Suddenly.  If it is sudden, is it real?  Charities rely on these sorts of donations.  I am not suggesting that we don’t give or that we don’t reach out and help.  I AM saying, give and help for the right reasons.  Don’t be a hero.  Be a caring and compassionate person who reaches out with sincerity and truth, with understanding and knowledge, and with wisdom and guidance.  These things are only going to develop through education and reflection.  Learn TRUTH and contrast ideas against the truth to determine if is something you should be involved in.

Let’s get back to morality.  Let’s go to a foundation of truth that all things are built upon.

Maybe as time passes, I will have the opportunity to speak with the outlaw biker again.  Maybe we can talk more and continue our banter back and forth between the dark side and the light side.  It is a testament in itself that we can stand beside each other in our colours, almost as though the ends of a spectrum standing side by side.  I wonder what has occurred in his life that caused him to turn to the outlaw clubs?  What is the draw?  What is it that he has accepted as truth?  When that days comes that we talk again, I would love to sit with him and hear his story.  Because everyone has a story.

By the way, Jesus would ride a custom built ride.

Iglesia Espanol

My family and I went to church with friends of ours this morning.  It’s a charming and friendly small church of a different denomination than we are, but coming together is still a precious experience.  We learned that in the evenings the church holds a Spanish service.  This began when Pastor Doug felt a need to provide a place for migrant workers to come and worship when they were in the area for summer work.  Tonight would be a special night.  Everyone was invited to tonight's service and share a meal afterwards.

I had to go back!  After being in Cuba earlier in 2009 I came to appreciate the Spanish language, the hospitality of the people and, of course, good food.  Granted, the Spanish speaking congregates at tonight’s service are not from Cuba, the latin culture was evident in the warmness of our hosts.

My wife and I sat in the service and I was awash with fond memories of sitting and celebrating in the Spanish churches I have previously visited.  I began to miss my friends; Joshua, Soto and Xiomara, as well as many many others.  One young girl I met in Cuba had a smile that radiated pure joy.  She was just twelve years old and actually preached a sermon on our first night.  She spoke barely more English other than “My name is Coosie.  What is your name?”  

It was both mine and my son’s first trip to Cuba.  He was just 11 at the time and took everything in stride.  From immigration searches to repeated immigration questioning, from police stopping our vehicle...repeatedly... to the chickens running over our feet during dinner in out palm leaf dining room, from the guy trying to steal out camera equipment to playing soccer and football with children who have never thrown a foot ball before.  The fresh tropical fruit, cutting coconuts from the tree with a machete, trying new foods and giving our new friends peanut butter for the first time.

If you haven’t embraced cross cultural experiences, you are missing out on what the world has to offer.  You will only get out of an experience what you put into it.  Get out of your comfort zone, visit new places, talk to new people and make new friends because everyone has a story.

You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone...

For the past couple of weeks I have bid farewell to my Macbook as I awaited the arrival of a new power cord.  Instead of my trusting friend, I had to resort to using my wife's (cough) Acer (cough) and hack my way way through (choke) Windows Vista (gag).

If you are an avid Mac user, you understand my pain.  Today I received my new cord and I was reunited with my laptop.

It's so good to have you back my friend.  I missed you.