The Candidate

A couple of nights ago I wrote about having voted in this month’s election. I really should tell you one part of the story I left out…

As I was filling in the little ovals on the ballot, I realized for the first time that the (Republican) state representative from my (new) district is running unopposed. As I meditated on this little piece of information, I made the decision, somewhat impulsively I admit, to run for public office. I filled in the little oval next to the write-in space and then penciled in my own name.

So, there I was: an ordinary citizen one moment, a candidate for political office the next.

I “announced” my candidacy at work today. And as far as I know now, I’ll have two votes in my column come next Tuesday.

Scary Stuff

So, it’s Halloween ... supposedly the scariest day of the year.

My thought: Ha!

This evening I finished voting in the November election. (For those of you reading this from outside of Oregon, remember that we’re the one state that is exclusively vote-by-mail. I will put my ballot in the mail tomorrow.) As I complete my personal part of this electoral process, I look forward to next Tuesday, November 7th, as the most terrifying day of 2006. The stakes are high for the country. The stakes are high for Oregon. And the stakes are high for me. Let me explain ...

Nationally, we need to elect a congress, both House and Senate, that will stand up to George W. and his failed foreign policy. And bring an end to this fiasco in Iraq. This is an absolute must.

Additionally, the voters of Oregon need to reject the latest of the wildly-insane ballot measures that would lead to catastrophic cuts in state spending and cripple our education sectors and other highly-critical state-funded services.

Finally, and obviously, the outcome of the election is of personal import, because I work in public higher education and we receive a large portion of our support from the state’s general fund. The huge cuts that would result from the passage of Measures 41 and/or 48 would almost certainly dictate eventual job loss for me and perhaps the inability to ever be employed here in my working life again.

Watch out for those Oregon voters. Now they’re scary.

The Election

On November 7th, Oregon voters face a potential twin-towers of ballot measures. My opinion: NO votes on both Measure 41 and Measure 48 are crucial to the future of the state, as the effects could be more devastating to our education systems (and other state services) than was Ballot Measure 5 in 1990. Click on the links above to read what The Oregonian had to say when they weighed in on these matters. And then head on over the Defend Oregon Coalition website.

This is important! Really.

Freedom of Speech

During Thursday and Friday this week, I attended a retreat of UCC faculty as part of our beginning-of-the-school-year inservice activities. The event was held at the Big K Guest Ranch in Elkton, Oregon (about 30 miles from here). The place is truly in the middle of nowhere. After driving about 18 miles north of (I-5 Exit 136) Sutherlin on Highway 138W, you take a right-hand turn onto a gravel road and proceed onward for another four miles…an experience bound to rattle your bones and car frame, even at 15 mph. However, the setting is quite idyllic, and a great spot for a group our size to get away and do some retreat-type work. The organizers constructed a very worthwhile agenda, and I was amazed at the effort and energy expended to make this a wonderfully-successful experience for everybody.

A lot of the time together was spent in small groups, examining topics relevant to both new and returning instructors. Even though I am not an instructor anymore [I was one of two administrators present (the other being the college president)], I found I was able to participate fully. And, the greatest benefit to me was getting to know faculty from my new, large division (as well as the entire campus).

On the final day, yesterday, we held discussions (during both the morning and afternoon sessions) on a variety of hypothetical ethical-dilemma situations. The final scenario involved a student who wore a t-shirt to class that had a (unidentified) racially-offensive message on it. The questions: what to do? How to handle this?

A variety of perspectives were offered. One person offered thoughts about a dress-code. Others provided suggestions aimed at trying to control student behavior and, hence, suppression of the t-shirt’s message.

I could not hold my tongue. At the end of the discussion (and our time together), I raised my hand. I offered the thought that a t-shirt was not offensive in and of itself, and that this was neither a dress code nor a student-conduct issue, but rather a free-speech one. Freedom of expression is one of our most cherished and important constitutional rights, I said, and that, especially in a college environment (where we are presumably devoted to a free exchange of ideas), we cannot stomp on such a fundamental American freedom. I observed that quite a number of campuses over the last couple of decades have attempted to restrict student behavior with speech codes, virtually all of which had been struck down by the courts on constitutional grounds. I tried to convey the message, and personal (legal?) opinion, that we cannot attempt to silence a student merely because his or her message might be offensive to some.

Of course, I likely sounded like an over-the-top civil libertarian. And, I know, I delivered this message with some degree of passion, but hopefully not so extreme as to offend my new colleagues. The ACLU has an excellent summary of this issue on their website, as well as descriptions of many specific cases involving freedom of expression (including t-shirts).

May 4th

On April 30, 1970, President Richard Nixon announced to a national television audience that he was ordering troops into Cambodia. Although the stated purpose of this so-called “incursion” was to hasten an end to the ongoing slaughter in Vietnam, many Americans, myself included, thought this a wholly-unwarranted expansion of the war effort.

I was in the last semester of my undergraduate college days at this time: politically-active and fervently anti-war. I had received a draft notice in June of 1969 and spent 22 days in the Air Force until a chronic knee condition led to a medical discharge. Although I was (because of my discharge) no longer at risk of losing my life to this insane activity, I had spent four long college years with the specter of the military draft – and the prospect of a gruesome, lonely death in a jungle a million miles away from home. For me, the war was personal.

Richard Nixon had been elected, at least in part, on the basis of his “secret plan” to end the war. Yet, here he was, less than two years later, ordering an obvious escalation.

I was pissed. I remember spending the remainder of the evening after Nixon’s speech composing a letter to the editor of my local newspaper. My writing skills were not too finely developed then and my letter was not the most eloquent piece of prose. But what I lacked in style, I hope I made up for in passion: Nixon was wrong. He was a madman. He had to go. The war must end.

Many, many people agreed with me. Unrest on the nation’s campuses, especially, took a dramatic turn. On May 4, 1970, my letter was published in the Eau Claire (WI) Leader-Telegram, the same day that four full-time college students (Allison Krause, Jeffrey Miller, Sandra Scheuer and William Schroeder) at Kent State University were gunned down by Ohio National Guard troops on their own campus. Another nine students (Joseph Lewis, John Cleary, Thomas Grace, Robbie Stamps, Donald Scott MacKenzie, Alan Canfora, Douglas Wrentmore, James Russell and Dean Kahler) were wounded; one was paralyzed for life, the others seriously maimed.

The students of the University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire, in the days immediately following the Kent State massacre, rallied. I, for one, picketed the Science building where I had spent the majority of my time as a chemistry student. On May 6th we held a campus-wide protest, gathering on the lawn right outside the student union building. And we planted four trees in memory of the dead in Ohio. The plaque from that memorial service is still there today, as are three of the four original trees.

May 4, 1970, was thirty-six years ago. On this day, today, let us not forget the madness that can afflict us as a nation.

Let us also not forget that we always have a voice. Let’s remember that protest can lead to change. We must know that when we perceive injustice in the world, we can stand, march, shout and be heard. We can make a difference.

Thought for the day: We have the ability to put an end to the killing. All it takes is the will.

Soundtrack Suggestion

Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,
We’re finally on our own.

This summer I hear the drumming,
Four dead in Ohio.

Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are gunning us down
Should have been done long ago.

What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?

Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are gunning us down
Should have been done long ago.

What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?

Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,
We’re finally on our own.

This summer I hear the drumming,
Four dead in Ohio.

(“Ohio” – Neil Young)