Latest UB story: Urban Community School 'attuned' to different learning styles

My latest Catholic Universe Bulletin story ran on Friday. Unfortunately it is not available online. Here's the story:

Urban Community School 'attuned' to different learning styles
By Wendy A. Hoke

Celebrating learning differences fits well with the philosophy at Urban Community School (UCS), an independent Catholic School on Cleveland’s West Side. This past week the entire faculty has been in an intensive instruction designed to help them teach children better.

Susan Barnhart, a first and second grade teacher at UCS, took part in Schools Attuned last year and had the opportunity to put the ideas into practice during the school year.

“I’m taking master’s classes right now and brain research comes up in every class. We’re always talking about how students learn and putting that into the educational strategy,” she said.

Schools Attuned teaches educators about different learning styles, and how those can be tapped in the classroom.

The training, which will be implemented by all teachers this school year, is based on neurodevelopmental research done at the University of North Carolina School of Medicine and our understanding of the constructs that affect learning such as language, spatial ordering, memory and higher order cognition.

“It has always been our philosophy at UCS that students learn in different ways, and to reflect that, our teaching focuses on individualized instruction rather than standardized lessons,” said Sister Maureen Doyle, school director. “The Schools Attuned program expands on that view.”

The training is intense and Barnhart admits she was a bit overwhelmed at first. But the ideas fell into place through the classroom training.

“When we become aware of different learning styles, the children become aware of that also,” explained Principal Pam Delly, who also participated in the training last year. “Students realize that it’s okay for them to do things differently and as a result you have a classroom free of humiliation.”

The idea behind this educational approach is to meet children where they are. Some are good at taking tests, some at making presentations, some need to tell teachers what they learned, and others prefer to use artistic representation.

“It becomes the norm that children are being assessed in different ways,” added Delly.

Barnhart said the result is that teachers feel a sense of freedom and flexibility in how they approach classroom instruction.

That’s why UCS is offering the training to its entire faculty. “It’s helpful if our staff all have the same vocabulary and understanding of what’s happening with our students,” said Delly. “It helps that teachers continue to build on student strengths versus student weaknesses.”

Another important component to the training is the staff-initiated collaboration that has developed. Teachers became interested in reading and discussing workshop creator Dr. Mel Levine’s book, “A Mind at a Time,” and held discussion groups to help familiarize everyone with the concepts.

“We met after hours and had a cross-section of different levels of teachers. It was great because we could take as much time as we needed as opposed to the classroom training time, which moves along quickly,” said Barnhart.

So what does Schools Attuned look like in the classroom?

Delly said that one younger child was proficient in reading, but didn’t enjoy the early reader series. The child was interested in architecture and started reading when presented with books about Cleveland architecture.

“Hopefully we will continue building on children’s interests, acknowledging that everyone learns differently and to appreciate and celebrate those differences,” said Delly.

Hoke is a freelance writer.

SPJ withdraws support of amicus

I'd like to declare unequivocal victory on this front, but unfortunately irreparable damage was done to SPJ's reputation.

Here's how this whole issue began, between four people (president, secretary-treasurer/LDF chair, freelance committee chair and myself) on July 24:

Hello folks,
I was searching for advocacy news to share with some members when I came across the following news brief, which I found disturbing: http://www.spj.org/news.asp?REF=681#681

I would respectively ask that you consider the large and growing number of independent writers in this organization and their position, which may stand in stark contrast to that of a news organization. Please discuss any future issues of this nature with Kerri and members of the freelance committee to get a balanced view and to fairly represent ALL SPJ members.

Thank you,
Wendy Hoke

In response I got this:

I am happy to consult with freelancers anytime -- and I also urge freelancers to take the helm of national leadership so that they are an active part of the discussions and decisions that must be made for SPJ often in very short order. (Bold is mine.)

[And then...]

Any journalist must be careful to protect his or her rights. If people sign contracts, they must be adult enough to accept their terms. If they can't abide by a contract, they shouldn't sign it -- and they should certainly not contribute to that news organization. (Bold is mine.)

[And finally...]
If anyone raises any questions about this, please let me know. I would be happy to speak with them.

C

Kerri and I got this thing rolling, but it was the scores of other freelancers who carried the ball into the end zone. Thank you to all of you who weren't afraid to speak up and take a stand publicly.

To the headquarters staff I would say that I'm deeply sorry for starting this major distraction at such a critical time. You all work so hard on behalf of the organization and it's a shame more members don't have the pleasure of knowing you as I do. But please try to understand that this was something that could not be left unchallenged. It drifted far, far away from SPJ's mission. Once this decision was discovered, it was impossible for me to remove my journalist/member hat and look the other way.

To the other members of the national board, specifically those who fought and challenged and tried to reason on this one — I applaud your efforts and I certainly hope you don't think they were in vain. Damage has been done and it will be a long time—perhaps never—before freelancers will feel welcome again in SPJ. But I hope that doesn't mean you'll give up trying. I hope you are never hesitant to challenge when you feel something is amiss.

To the leadership ladder: Early in this discussion, Kerri and I warned of the potential damage this one decision could do. SPJ was one place where freelancers from all across the country (the world, actually) found common purpose and a voice. I'm sure you never counted on hearing from them so vociferously. But SPJ promised them something and then delivered them to the wolves. They were ready to fight because the stakes were so high--it was about their ability to get paid fairly for the work they do.

I learned very early on as a chapter and national leader that one of the most important skills a good leader should cultivate is the ability to listen. What I found most distressing was the choice to listen to legal counsel over your own members. That was your first and biggest mistake. And it was perpetuated for days on end by non-answers and promises that specifics would come. We are journalists and we would never accept such pat responses from people we cover. More importantly, neither would you.

Membership organizations only succeed when they have equal measures of inclusiveness, diplomacy, advocacy and support. Leadership is informed by guidance of people who have expertise in specific areas. That's what the SPJ committee structure provides—ready access to people who spend their volunteer time focused on one aspect of journalism. Their exclusion in this process was a failure of leadership.

While SPJ's initial decision on this amicus failed due to lack of inclusiveness, the attempt at a rationale failed in diplomacy.

I included the start of this conversation above because it was at this point that all of this could have been avoided. An acknowledgment that due process was not given this issue, that the impacted parties were not consulted and a pledge to review and do better next time was all it would have taken to stop this train wreck.

Instead, leadership took a high-handed, "we-know-best-you-couldn't-possibly-know-all-the-legal-ramifications" approach that disenfranchised an entire segment of membership and permanently tarnished the organization's image.

To date, I am aware of the following collateral damage: loss of one part-time staff member and longtime volunteer; loss of one national committee chair, longtime volunteer and former national board member; loss of one convention panel; loss of one contributor to The Journalist; years of hard work and goodwill on the part of many expended in one badly dealt hand.

For those freelancers who choose to stay and mend fences and find a way forward, I applaud your optimism. Some had suggested to me that this was a plot all along to rid the organization of independents so that it could focus on saving staff jobs.

That may be, but if it is then it would have been nice to know before freelancers started paying dues and paying their way to conventions that our presence was not appreciated nor welcome.

I take leave now of this matter that has so consumed me and many others these past few weeks. I hope we are all wiser and more informed about the repercussions of decisions we make. I know that I am. I continue to believe in the ideals of SPJ, but I cannot expend anymore energy in an organization so concerned with preserving one group that it's willing to sacrifice another.

Superheroes in the freezer

Maybe you need to have boys to appreciate the humor of this piece in Christian Science Monitor. But I laughed out loud, picturing the Office of the Director, Family Intelligence Agency (er, Mom) opening a leftover container to find a headless Han Solo action figure mixed in with the meatloaf. Boys! Sheesh! Reminds me of The supercollider in my basement.

Finding good company

"To read a writer is for me not merely to get an idea of what he says, but to go off with him and travel in his company."

— French writer Andre Gide

Because sometimes we need to be reminded

Three years ago, on the third anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks, Bill Moyers gave a rousing speech to journalists gathered in New York City. It was part scolding, part revival and part call to arms. Here are a few excerpts I wanted to share today:

[Edward] Wasserman acknowledges, as I do, that there is some world-class journalism being done all over the country today, but he went on to speak of "a palpable sense of decline, of rot, of a loss of spine, determination, gutlessness" that pervades our craft. Journalism and the news business, he concludes, aren't playing well together. Media owners have businesses to run, and "these media-owning corporations have enormous interests of their own that impinge on an ever-widening swath of public policy" -hugely important things, ranging from campaign finance reform (who ends up with those millions of dollars spent on advertising?) to broadcast deregulation and antitrust policy, to virtually everything related to the Internet, intellectual property, globalization and free trade, even to minimum wage, affirmative action, and environmental policy. "This doesn't mean media shill mindlessly for their owners, any more than their reporters are stealth operatives for pet causes," but it does mean that in this era when its broader and broader economic entanglements make media more dependent on state largesse, "the news business finds itself at war with journalism."

Methinks we need a reminder of this reality, particularly as the proposed Federal Shield Law moves forward and the language of who is and who is not covered remains too narrowly defined (one colleague this week suggested the test should be whether or not Tom Paine would be covered). Or when we're more concerned with image over substance, branding over values, bottom line over front page. When we're sufficiently blinded by our own comfort and self-righteousness that we actually believe that citizen journalists are to blame for the public perception of big media instead of recognizing its our own failures that are the cause of public distrust. (Who was it this week who said the worst thing to happen to journalism was the mortgage?)

If I ever doubted that my colleagues in newsrooms felt threatened by all this change, the events of the past few weeks have certainly plopped that reality right in my lap. Those outside of newsrooms don't share the same sense of foreboding about the news industry as those inside newsrooms. Spend a little time outside of newsrooms and you see opportunities for good journalism opening up all around. But you have to break out of your preconceived notion of where journalism happens.

[Dan Gillmor] … argues persuasively that Big Media is losing its monopoly on the news, thanks to the Internet - that "citizen journalists" of all stripes, in their independent, unfiltered reports, are transforming the news from a lecture to a conversation. He's on to something. In one sense we are discovering all over again the feisty spirit of our earliest days as a nation when the republic and a free press were growing up together. It took no great amount of capital and credit-just a few hundred dollars-to start a paper then. There were well over a thousand of them by 1840. They were passionate and pugnacious and often deeply prejudiced; some spoke for Indian-haters, immigrant-bashers, bigots, jingoists, and land-grabbers. But some called to the better angels of our nature-Tom Paine, for one, the penniless immigrant from England, who, in 1776, just before joining Washington's army, published the hard-hitting pamphlet, Common Sense, making its uncompromising case for American independence. It became our first best seller because Paine was possessed of an unwavering determination to reach ordinary people-to "make those that can scarcely read understand" and "to put into language as plain as the alphabet" the idea that they mattered and could stand up for their rights.

Maybe we're just waiting for someone to give us permission, maybe we're just waiting for the timing to be better, maybe we're just hoping that if we just stay quiet things will improve. And maybe the world is just waiting for us to finally stand up for our rights, no matter what the context.

I am reminded of the answer the veteran journalist Richard Reeves gave when asked by a college student to define "real news." "Real news," he said,"is the news you and I need to keep our freedoms."

Amen, Brother Moyers, Amen.

Sherman's SPJ bombshell

Erik Sherman weighs in on Kerri's resignation and the SPJ National Geographic saga. Here's his bombshell:

When [Kerri] Fivecoat-Campbell asked the board about what seemed to be a conflict of interest, she was told that the law firm hadn’t done work for National Geographic since the 80s, and so there was no conflict.

Fivecoat-Campbell argued that once there was a financial tie, there is always at least the perception of a conflict. That’s easy enough to understand. The firm might want to woo back business it lost, and could be perceived as thinking of its own interests, or those of a “former” client, rather than the interests of SPJ and its members, which include editors and writers, both staff and freelance, but not, to my knowledge, publishers.

However, there is another complication. Today I called the office of a lawyer, at Baker Hostetler, who is identified on the web site as having represented National Geographic. I heard from the office that the firm still does work for the society. That raises the very large question of whose interest the law firm was supporting, and the equally big issue of why SPJ leadership decided to throw in with National Geographic.

I’ve called SPJ and both the acting executive director and the president elect have referred me to the organization’s president, who is currently on vacation. (I’ll provide an update when I hear something.)

Notice of my resignation

Here is the text of the notice of my resignation from SPJ, which went out on Friday:

I wanted to let you know that on Monday I resigned from my part-time position as Membership Manager of the Society of Professional Journalists. As most of you know, I’ve spent a lot of volunteer time over the years working on behalf of the organization at the local, regional and national level and still believe that its mission—to improve and protect journalism—is a worthy one.

However, it became clear to me last week that SPJ’s current direction is not to fulfill that mission for ALL journalists. Specifically, a small segment of its national leadership (elected, not staff) made what I believe was an uninformed decision that could be detrimental to freelance journalists, one of the few segments of its membership that was actually growing. After spending four years advocating for independent journalists, I found myself unable to sell an organization that says one thing to attract such members and acts in another to potentially cripple those members in their ability to negotiate fairly for rights and compensation, indeed to survive professionally.

The decision to sign on to an amicus brief in support of National Geographic over a freelancer along with other media organizations (not “journalism advocacy organizations” as was originally stated in the press release), made without the input of the national freelance committee, has the appearance (and note I say “appearance”) of a conflict in that it was recommended by SPJ’s legal counsel, which also lists National Geographic as a media client.

More importantly, I see this decision as a fundamental shift in the Society’s advocacy from never weighing in on labor/management issues because it has both in its membership to now weighing in on behalf of publishers (management) over freelancers (labor). SPJ had no reason to take a legal stand either way. We were the lone journalism advocacy organization along with the Time Inc.’s, Conde Nasts, Hearsts, Gannetts and Forbes of the world. In fact, it's not even clear that the case is ongoing.

In my resignation letter I indicated that I would be spending more time on my journalism and less time advocating for journalists. That’s not entirely true. I am spending more time on journalism. But I’m also a firm believer that you get what you give, so of course I will be doing what I can to help other journalists—just not through SPJ.

As most of you also know (some more than others), I have never hesitated to point out when I think the Society has gone astray. I do not regret my doing so on this issue, despite my staff position. I was willing to sacrifice financially and professionally on this point.

As a freelancer, I have to make careful choices about where I invest my money. I thought SPJ had my back, but this decision and the subsequent conversations have proved otherwise.

I do, however, remain hopeful that SPJ will find its way back to its mission through the many wonderful, talented and dedicated people who comprise its membership. I am proud to count so many as friends. In addition, I consider myself fortunate to have worked closely with a fantastic staff who work tirelessly to support the membership. My regret is that I’m no longer able to work with such a talented group of individuals.

Thank you for your support over the years! Keep in touch and perhaps we will one day work together again.

My best,
Wendy Hoke

SPJ loses another gem

Kerri Fivecoat-Campbell, who served for the past year as Freelance Committee Chair, spent time on the national board as a regional director and served the Kansas City Press Club pro chapter, has resigned from her committee position and renounced her membership in SPJ in the wake of the Faulkner v. National Geographic debacle.

Kerri worked tirelessly for freelancers and promoted SPJ to non-members at every turn. She repeatedly made the case for freelancers to join on forums, fighting against the perception that the organization is filled with newspaper staffers and PR flaks. She felt strongly that it was a good place where ALL freelancers could find support and camaraderie without going through a juried process found in other organizations.

As it turns out, the perception that SPJ does not care about freelancers is painfully apparent. Leadership of the organization is now in the hands of people who disdain independent journalists, indeed who are in management themselves. May their organization's ad revenue never fall short and may they never find themselves a freelancer one day as a result, fighting for the very rights they so freely gave away.

Out of commission today

I've got six inches of storm water in my basement this morning, so I'm pretty much out of commission the rest of the day. Ugh! Just waiting for it to stop raining long enough for the water to recede so the long, slow cleanup can begin.

Speak up!

From NY Time's Paper Cuts book blog:

[U.S. Poet Laureate Charles] Simic has also written, in a 1995 essay called “In Praise of Invective,” these ringing words: “There are moments in life when true invective is called for, when there comes an absolute necessity, out of a deep sense of justice, to denounce, mock, vituperate, lash out, rail at in the strongest possible language.” (bold is mine)

Those words could applied to many things today. Been ruminating on how we live in a society that talks about free speech, but does not really hold it as a fundamental value. How many times do we hear the words from well-meaning family members, friends, colleagues: "keep the peace," "hold your tongue," "it is what it is," "you can't change their mind," "it won't matter." Makes me want to scream. Dwight Garner continues:

Simic has, among this country’s poets, a singular kind of moral authority on issues of war and peace.

Born in Belgrade in 1938, he knew war as a child. “Germans and the Allies took turns dropping bombs on my head while I played with my collection of lead soldiers on the floor,” Simic told The Cortland Review. “I would go boom, boom, and then they would go boom, boom.”

And he said in the Times today: “I’m sort of the product of history; Hitler and Stalin were my travel agents.”

War and morality are subjects Simic has spoken about often, and according to a 2005 interview in The Paris Review, they are always on his mind: “The use of murder to improve the world, for instance, is popular in American intellectual circles as if there had never been any historical precedents. I think about these things all the time.”

It would be a shame if he stopped thinking about them now.

Stories hold the universe together

Hat tip to Michelle for sharing this wonderful thought. Michelle found it in Amy Lansky's book, "Impossible Cure," about how her son was cured of autism with homeopathy. I'm sharing it for its beautiful, simple message about humanity and the power of narrative.

"Conventional medicine conveniently dismisses stories as 'anecdotes'-but I recall a wonderful tale about Steven Hawking, the theoretical physicist...Evidently one of his graduate students had just penetrated the notion that all these little subatomical particles didn't have a material presence in the Newtonian billiard-ball sense at all, but were rather transient arrangements of energy...Lost in his disorientation...[he] asked Hawking what held the universe together. Hawking leaned back in his wheelchair and said, 'Stories.'"
-Will Taylor, MD, 1997

James Taylor - Something In the Way She Moves - Live Concert

Oh Dave posted James Taylor singing, "Carolina On My Mind" as a song that's meaningful to him.

Made me thing of "Something the Way She Moves," which has always been a favorite of mine. When JT sings, "i feel fine anytime she's around me now," my heart is filled with bliss.

What song is meaningful to you?

Moving on...

Isn't it easier to go with the flow rather than take an unpopular stand?

It's neater certainly, tidier in many ways. But what if you feel so strongly that you cannot sit back and are willing to sacrifice professionally and financially for something you believe?

Does modern society even value such a position?

These are the questions that have gone through my head as I made the decision to rant here and to resign from my part-time position as Membership Manager for the Society of Professional Journalists.

In a nutshell, top officers decided to join major media companies in an amicus brief supporting National Geographic over a freelance photographer. The photographer was suing to get paid for reuse of his work in an anniversary CD ROM. The work dates back to the 1980s before freelancers even knew what "electronic uses" were. Without ever stating what dog SPJ had in that fight, I discovered that SPJ's legal counsel at Baker Hostetler recommended such action. It also lists National Geographic Society as one of its media clients (along with SPJ). I don't know if that played a part in the decision, but absent any other explanation, it certainly appears to have played a role.

At the very least, this was a decision that was made recklessly and without full input of those most affected by its precedent—freelancers. At worst, it was an ethical breach and a break from SPJ's long history of not weighing in on labor/management issues because it has members from both constituencies. Somehow that position is okay for staffers, but not for independents. I was left scratching my head and clearly the top leaders didn't feel a need to answer my questions about the decision.

In the immediate aftermath, I questioned my reasons for wanting to help other journalists. What was I really hoping to gain? Was it selfishness? Pride? Or was it my own sense that someone had to speak up for others who weren't able or willing to speak up for themselves? I like to think it was the latter, but maybe my ego also was served by my involvement.

Monday night was a sleepless one as I tossed and turned, ran conversations through my head, came up with things I should have said or should have said better. That day and night felt very lonely and isolating, as if the good works I had spent fours years on were suddenly erased by my decision to take a forceful stand.

I was the only one in a position to do so. No one else even knew about the decision until I discovered it by accident. Someone had to shine the light and I was in the unique position to be able to do so.

But did anyone else even care? In the wee hours, I would go to my laptop and with my hands over the keyboard, hesitate to type what was on my mind: How journalists routinely expect sources to blow the whistle, to take a stand, but would never do so themselves. I spoke up and lashed out against my own and that night I felt sealed off.

No doubt there is a certain segment who will seal me out permanently. I have to let them go. But as the week wore on, I received support from good people who were sorry to see me go, but were trying hard to understand my reasoning. Most didn't ask for particulars and I didn't share unless they asked. Many more just figured it must have been something extreme for me to take such a stand.

I've fallen on my SPJ sword, taking such a drastic and dramatic step so that others in the organization may look up and say, "What the heck is going on here?" I hope that's the case, but I'm letting go of the outcome.

Because as the week wore on, I found the constant pain in my left shoulder evaporating. I took a two-hour nap on Tuesday afternoon in which I was practically unconscious. I feel a growing calm and peace with my decision. And I feel a sense of excitement at the future possibilities.

One door closes, another one opens. I'm moving on.

I would never presume to encourage others to make a similar decision as I have. This is personal and it's tough. I made so many friends and had so many opportunities through SPJ. Those things will continue. People will continue to join, renew and volunteer for SPJ. I don't begrudge them their support at all. I only know that for myself, selling and supporting an organization that doesn't speak for me as a freelance journalist became impossible the minute the national officers publicly signed on to a legal decision that supported publishers over freelancers.

In my resignation letter, I mentioned that I would be spending more time on my journalism and less time advocating for other journalists. That isn't entirely true. It's in my nature to help others and so I will continue to advocate for freelance journalists, just not through SPJ.

The fortunate thing in all of this is that I now have 20 hours more per week in which to be a freelance journalist. And that opens up a world of reporting and writing possibilities.

My shingle is back outside my door and I am open for more business.

Story Corps in Cleveland today

I'd love to listen in on some of the stories. What a great opportunity! Get downtown today to share your story with others.

There's a new writer in town...

... and her name is Michelle O'Neil.

If you get a moment today, please stop by Full Soul Ahead written by Michelle O'Neil and check out her magnificent, soulful writing.

She's new to Cleveland, having moved here from Virginia earlier this summer. She found me by Googling Cleveland writers. And she's been kind enough to read and comment regularly here on Creative Ink.

We met for coffee at Dewey's at Shaker Square last week and had a lovely conversation. Originally a journalist, she went to school to try doing something more meaningful like nursing.

Today she combines both aspects of her professional life into some of the richest, most personal writing. Her inspiration comes from her children Riley and Seth.

To get a glimpse at how beautiful a child with special needs can be, check out this entry.

Mostly, I hope you'll take a moment to welcome her to town. She's a beautiful addition to our writing community.

Welcome, Michelle!

Savoring a good read

It's quite possible I will keep coming back to and quoting from Hermione Lee's excellent biography of Edith Wharton. It's simply a terrific mix of research, smart writing, compelling subject and synthesis of material.

That sounds so academic, but what I really mean is that I dig this book.

In the chapter, "Republic of Letters," there are number of fabulous stories about her publishing, including a letter to Scribner's after the publication of her book, The Greater Inclination:

"Gentlemen, Am I not to receive any copies of my book? I have had no notice of its publication, but I see from the New York papers that it appeared last week, and I supposed that by this time the usual allowances of copies would have been sent me. Yours truly, Edith Wharton."

Well-documented throughout is her philosophy on writing novels.

"My last page is always latent in my first." A work of art must make you feel that "it could not have been otherwise." These qualities had to be produced though "a perpetual process of rejection and elision."

Sort of reminds of of the great writing teacher William Zinsser's admonition to select, focus, reduce. Her writing is never gratuitous. She has a point to make.

"No novel worth anything can be anything but a novel 'with a purpose,' & if anyone who cared for the moral issue did not see in my work that I care for it, I should have no one to blame but myself."

There are sections of the book in which Lee demonstrates Wharton's editing style, demonstrating the development of scenes and dialogue to which she paid such careful note.

"In the conversation between Ellen Olenska and Newland Archer in the carriage in The Age of Innocence, for instance, the manuscript develops like this:
1. 'Is it your idea, then, that I should be your'
2. 'Is it your idea, then, that we should go off together'
3. 'Is it your idea, then, that I should be your mistress'
4. 'Is it your idea, then, that I should live with you as your mistress since I can't be your wife?' she asked abruptly.
(This, but without 'abruptly,' was the final printed version.)"

Isn't that cool? Maybe you just have to be a writing freak like me to appreciate such process. But it gives me a glimpse into her head and a chance to learn from her as if she were standing before me.

"In the scene at the end of The House of Mirth when Lily slips out of consciousness, imagining that she is holding Nettie Struther's baby, the manuscript changes read:

1. She settled herself into a position
2. She settled herself into an easier position, pressing the little
3. into an easier position, hollowing her arm to receive the little head, and holding her breath lest a sound should disturb the child's sleep
4. should disturb the sleeping child

"The final version is: 'She settled herself into an easier position, hollowing her arm to pillow the round downy head, and holding her breath lest a sound should disturb the sleeping child.' "

Wharton's stories are often of "a man who has failed to love a remarkable woman." What I found and keep finding as I make my way through her life (again) are the many deliberate things she did as a writer that draw me to her work, whether that is depth of subject matter or snappy dialogue or conflicted, struggling characters. Often it's what she leaves out of the story, the blanks I must fill in, that strike me most deeply.

She rarely wrote happy endings. And she never insulted her readers' intelligence. That is why were are still reading her books and still reading about her.

Today's horoscope

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22) ***** Knowing that all good things have to come to an end sooner or later will help you maximize the moment. Don't try to break down a door, rather walk through open and accessible areas. Maximize your energy. Tonight: Time to kick back and play great music.

Is writing an inherently deviant act?

4. Several of the writers discuss the act of writing as their “bad” behavior. Is writing inherently a deviant act?

"Interestingly, both Joyce Maynard and Erica Jong talk about breaking silences as a way of being bad. So yes, they write to be heard in a world that wants to keep them quiet."

Amen to that, sister!

From Jewess interview with Ellen Sussman, author of "Bad Girls: 26 Writers Misbehave."

Hat tip to Jill, who always seems to know what I need when I need it. A thousand thank yous!

Latest UB story: Mr. Wonderful and Betty Crocker

Here's my latest UB story out today. It's not available online, so I've copied it here.

Sharing their faith and the heritage for 50 years
By Wendy A. Hoke

Geraldine Semproch learned of her husband Ray’s marriage proposal when a sportswriter published it in a newspaper.

Ray was a pitcher in baseball’s minor leagues. When the writer asked him about his success in pitching in an interview after a game, Ray responded that he thought it was because he was getting married to Geraldine.

“The guy asked, ‘When’s the wedding?’ and I just threw out the first date after the playoffs, which was Nov. 16,” he said.

And so it appeared in print the following day. Geraldine learned of the proposal when Ray mailed her the clipping. “I showed it to my father and he said, ‘Well, I guess we’ll be having a baseball player in the family.’ I was an only child, but my father thought he was a good fit for me,” she said.

Geraldine and Ray Semproch met on a blind date. They will celebrate their golden anniversary on Nov. 16, 2007, with a Mass at Corpus Christi Church and a celebration to follow on Nov. 17.

The two, who grew up near Cleveland’s Slavic neighborhood, said they shared many things in common including their Polish ethnicity and the closeness of their family. Their strongest bond, however, is their Catholic faith.

Ray, who was the youngest of eight children, lost his mother at an early age and was taught and influenced by his older sister, his father and the nuns at Sacred Heart School. Geraldine was an only child and the daughter of Bohemian and Polish parents.

Together the Semprochs share the traditions of faith and ethnicity with their three grown children (Debbie, Karen and Raymond, who were all born on Aug. 10 in different years) and their seven grandchildren ages 13 to 19. They celebrate all the holidays together and are proud that their children and grandchildren also are strong in their faith.

“We always go to their parish events, too,” said Geraldine. “We’re a very close-knit family.”

For 46 years they have lived on the same tree-lined, red brick street in Old Brooklyn. Their home is filled with photos and mementos of their life together.

Ray played two years with the Philadelphia Phillies and one year with the Detroit Tigers. Most of his career was spent as bar manager of Broglio’s, a fine Italian restaurant that used to be located in Independence and was owned by Ray’s brother. Geraldine also worked in the family business as an office clerk and later a banquet manager.

Some of their fondest memories were of patrons who used to egg on the “Singing Bartender of Broglio’s” to serenade them with “Jingle Bell’s” in Polish. What most didn’t know, until recently, was that Ray also doubled as the Singing Polish Santa Claus on the “Big Chuck and Little John Show.”

“Big Chuck lived down the street and I grew up playing basketball with him,” explained Ray. “We did this shtick and it was funny. He tried to pay me royalties or something, but I told him to just use it. So every first Saturday in December, my kids would watch. They couldn’t understand how dad could be sitting in the living room with them and be on TV at the same time,” recalled Ray, laughing.

Laughter is one of the qualities that Geraldine and Ray still have in common. They laugh easily together and still enjoy a bit of good-natured teasing.

“We went to a hockey game on our third date and the announcer said, ‘Cleveland icing the puck.’ When she asked what that meant, I told her there was a little refrigerator where they kept the puck…”

“And I believed him!” said Geraldine. “I repeated the story to a couple who came to a hockey game with us 15 years later!”

Both laugh at the memory.

Friends know him as Mr. Wonderful, prone to impersonating Don Ho singing, “Tiny Bubbles” at weddings and parties. She is known as Betty Crocker and makes gift baskets filled with home-baked goodies for First Communions.

Together they share a life that has grown through faith, love and tradition.

Hoke is a freelance writer.

The more things change...

...the more they stay the same.

She had immersed herself in ground-plans, guide-books, architectural treatises, diaries and travellers' accounts, from the fifteenth to the nineteenth centuries, in four languages, and she was bitterly disappointed that the publishers would not let her use as illustrations the historical garden-plans she had laboured to track down (rightly so, as reviewers complained of their absence). And she wanted more money ($2,000 for six articles instead of $1,500), since she was writing "with some sort of system & comprehensiveness on a subject which, hitherto, has been treated in English only in the most amateurish fashion" and "it is sure to have a popular success." ("I receive $500 for a short story, which is much less hard work.")

— Hermione Lee writing about Edith Wharton and her experience in publishing Italian Villas and Their Gardens in the giant biography, Edith Wharton.

Blackballed from the playground

This week has been consumed with one issue that has caused me to question the ethics of a professional organization to which I have belonged off and on for 20 years. Suffice it to say that I have been banned from a certain set of playmates for calling the decision making of our leading body into question. No wait, check that. I've actually been castrated and castigated.

How dare I? I mean, really, what would a person working 20 hours a week on membership—who had spent the previous three years as head of a national committee of this organization, who has attended its leadership training for five years, who led a large chapter for two years and planned two regional conferences—what could this person possibly know about the ethics and values of a decision that harms a significant and growing segment of its membership?

I just can't figure out what would ever make me think I had something valuable to add to that discussion. (Note the dripping sarcasm.)

Remarkably, this is an organization dedicated to strengthening the First Amendment. You know that one about free speech and freedom of the press. Yeah, that. It's also one that is concerned about the free flow of information -- just not when the flow is heading upstream in their direction.

So while the leaders try to circle the wagons and make excuses, I'll hope that my playmates (from whom I'm banned) keep widening the circle.

I'll post more of the fun and mayhem when time permits.

Reporting on religion

This column made my heart ache for many reasons. Take the time to read through spiritual highs and lows of one reporter who tried to hear God's call and share how faith is present in people's lives. William Lobdell probably didn't envision covering clergy sex-abuse and financial/spiritual exploitation as a religion reporter. That isn't God's work.

Unfortunately, it's the nature of news that we never know what atrocities human nature will contrive. The religion beat of the past 10 years was rife with atrocities. While some who left comments would excoriate Lobdell for reporting the bad news, I find it hard to believe that anyone—church-going or otherwise—would believe the Roman Catholic clergy sex-abuse scandal was NOT news.

One point of this commentary is that he thought in lobbying for creation of this job that he would share the good news of religion. Alas, religious institutions are comprised of human beings, capable of many failings. Unfortunately, those failings were not only a problem for his job, but were also too much to sustain his faith.

"I sought solace in another belief: that a church's heart is in the pews, not the pulpits. Certainly the people who were reading my stories would recoil and, in the end, recapture God's house. Instead, I saw parishioners reflexively support priests who had molested children by writing glowing letters to bishops and judges, offering them jobs or even raising their bail while cursing the victims, often to their faces.

On a Sunday morning at a parish in Rancho Santa Margarita, I watched congregants lobby to name their new parish hall after their longtime pastor, who had admitted to molesting a boy and who had been barred that day from the ministry. I felt sick to my stomach that the people of God wanted to honor an admitted child molester. Only one person in the crowd, an Orange County sheriff's deputy, spoke out for the victim.

On Good Friday 2002, I decided I couldn't belong to the Catholic Church. Though I had spent a year preparing for it, I didn't go through with the rite of conversion.

I understood that I was witnessing the failure of humans, not God. But in a way, that was the point. I didn't see these institutions drenched in God's spirit. Shouldn't religious organizations, if they were God-inspired and -driven, reflect higher standards than government, corporations and other groups in society?"

Lobdell shares a number of stories, not all involving the Catholic church. He looked at the financial exploitation of the Trinity Broadcasting Network and the ostracism of former Mormons. But he reported from the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, where just last week, it was announced that the archdiocese will pay a whopping $660 million to more than 500 victims of the priest sex-abuse scandal.

Here he painfully details his tipping point, which did not stem from the child molestation:

"In the summer of 2005, I reported from a Multnomah County, Ore., courtroom on the story of an unemployed mother — impregnated by a seminary student 13 years earlier — who was trying to get increased child support for her sickly 12-year-old son.

The boy's father, Father Arturo Uribe, took the witness stand. The priest had never seen or talked with his son. He even had trouble properly pronouncing the kid's name. Uribe confidently offered the court a simple reason as to why he couldn't pay more than $323 a month in child support.

"The only thing I own are my clothes," he told the judge.

His defense — orchestrated by a razor-sharp attorney paid for by his religious order — boiled down to this: I'm a Roman Catholic priest, I've taken a vow of poverty, and child-support laws can't touch me.

The boy's mother, Stephanie Collopy, couldn't afford a lawyer. She stumbled badly acting as her own attorney. It went on for three hours.

"It didn't look that great," Stephanie said afterward, wiping tears from her eyes. "It didn't sound that great … but at least I stood up for myself."

The judge ruled in the favor of Uribe, then pastor of a large parish in Whittier. After the hearing, when the priest's attorney discovered I had been there, she ran back into the courtroom and unsuccessfully tried to get the judge to seal the case. I could see why the priest's lawyer would try to cover it up. People would be shocked at how callously the church dealt with a priest's illegitimate son who needed money for food and medicine.

My problem was that none of that surprised me anymore.

As I walked into the long twilight of a Portland summer evening, I felt used up and numb.

My soul, for lack of a better term, had lost faith long ago — probably around the time I stopped going to church. My brain, which had been in denial, had finally caught up.

Clearly, I saw now that belief in God, no matter how grounded, requires at some point a leap of faith. Either you have the gift of faith or you don't. It's not a choice. It can't be willed into existence. And there's no faking it if you're honest about the state of your soul.

Sitting in a park across the street from the courthouse, I called my wife on a cellphone. I told her I was putting in for a new beat at the paper.

Colorful turn of phrase

"What we're going to do with them when my parents pop their clogs, I don't know," she said.

From Sacramento Bee article on why people keep National Geographic magazines for decades.

I wasn't gonna comment, but...

I think it's fair to say that objectively speaking country singer Faith Hill is a beautiful woman. That she's 39 (about to turn 40 in September, much like yours truly) and has three children only adds to her beauty. So I wonder how she feels, especially given that she has three daughters, about her likeness being altered so dramatically on the cover of Redbook?

Gawker's Jezebel uncovered this "Photoshop of Horrors" and uses animation and a second numerically annotated version to show us how Faith was airbrushed into being on its July cover.

Of course the editors defend the alterations, and of course she's in an image-conscious industry. But don't you think it's the responsibility of celebrity women to push for a true likeness of themselves (ala Kate Winslet and GQ) and of smart editors to oblige?

Are we that horrified by crow's feet?

A kindred spirit

"The tensions finally took their toll. I consistently put in extra hours; the office consistently scheduled meetings outside my allotted time. Then, one week, I realized that it was taking a full-time mental effort to make the part-time job work, and that I would rather put in longer hours at something I loved — my writing — than shorter hours at something I only liked.

So, I’m leaving the office and returning to a 40-hour-week of self-employment. Because, just like Jack Bauer, I’d really like to save my family and the world — and, at least for me, that’s a full-time gig."

From Christine B. Larson's essay "The Anguish of a Part-Timer" in Sunday's New York Times.

Redesigning The New Yorker

I've long been a huge fan of The New Yorker and so I read with great interest this article in AIGA (American Institute of Graphic Arts) about redesigning The New Yorker.

Designer KT Meany does a great job of respecting its tradition while acknowledging its need to match design with exactitude of its content. She references Bruce McCall's illustrated guide to The New Yorker from the Feb. 19 & 27, 2007 issue and asks:

But where is the Design Department? How about the “No Two Hyphens in a Row Department”? Or the “Avoid Mixing a Caslon Italic with an Irvin Department”? Not to forget the “Adopt the Orphan, Marry the Widow Department.” The lack of a prominent in-house design department could lead to outhouse design. When asked to describe the commonality among all New Yorker writers, Joseph Mitchell divulged: “None of ’em could spell... and really none of us, including Ross, really knew anything about grammar. But each one of them... each one had a kind of wild exactitude of his own.” 12 Editing to a “very high degree of fussiness” 13 is what The New Yorker does best. But it fails to set the same standard for design, which needs some of that wild exactitude. And that’s the key.

Meany goes on to share her design thoughts, most of which sound like tremendous—yet respectful—improvements. One of her best is an inspired redesign mock-up of the TOC (that's table of contents for the non-publishing person), a vast improvement over its current state.

Along the way she points out some of the sloppy design details that, once called to your attention, are impossible to ignore. Having spent eight years as a magazine editor and having worked with some wonderful art directors and graphic designers, it's these little details, executed perfectly, that contribute to a magazine's overall excellence.

The question is: Can The New Yorker break enough from its past to make such improvements?

Summer's luxury of reading time

I did something yesterday that I haven't done for pleasure since I was a teenager. When I was actively reviewing books for The Plain Dealer on a weekly basis, I used to read books in a day or two. But that was work. I was being paid to do so and I found the best way for me to critique a book in 250 words was to read it from start to finish and write about my initial impressions.

Yesterday, however, was different. My friend had given me Jeannette Walls' The Glass Castle: A Memoir on Saturday night. As my coffee was brewing, I opened the book and read through the acknowledgments and then turned to the first chapter. It opens with Walls in a taxi on her way to a swanky Manhattan party. As she looks out the window, she sees a homeless woman rooting through a garbage dumpster. When she realizes it is her mother, she slinks down in the backseat of the cab and asks to be taken home to her Park Avenue apartment.

How her mother came to be homeless in New York and her feelings toward her mother's state are just one piece of this complicated and surprisingly inspiring story about family, alcoholism, dreams and survival. I just couldn't put it down. I drifted from room to room in our house, checked in on laundry throughout the day, dropped kids off here and there. Eventually, I wound up in the shade of our giant maple and read as the sun was setting, the sprinkler was watering my tomatoes and a breeze cooled the hot evening air.

When I was a kid, this was one of my favorite summer activities. I would go about it in much the same way as I did yesterday -- moving from my bedroom, to the sofa and outside to the hammock. Reading was perfectly paired with the chore of laundry and it gave me an excuse to indulge in my most treasured activity while still doing something productive in my mother's eyes.

After fighting off the initial guilt of whiling away the day, I sank into the rhythm of the story and the laziness that a hot summer day imbibes. It was decadent and I'm glad to have spent the day in such a way.

As a result, I didn't read any papers yesterday and was doing a little catch-up early this morning. I found an interesting essay in the New York Times Book Review by Japanese writer Haruki Murakami. He credits his writing style to his love of jazz music and wrote this about notes on the piano:

One of my all-time favorite jazz pianists is Thelonious Monk. Once, when someone asked him how he managed to get a certain special sound out of the piano, Monk pointed to the keyboard and said: “It can’t be any new note. When you look at the keyboard, all the notes are there already. But if you mean a note enough, it will sound different. You got to pick the notes you really mean!”

The same, of course, can be said of words.

Thursday miscellany

What day is it? This mid-week holiday has thrown off my internal calendar.

Tony and Eva got nothing on Big Mike and Steph
That's right, our good friend Big Mike is finally tying the knot this weekend. Most of our friends married the summer of 1994 (when I was pregnant with Patrick) and we had 10 weddings between May 15 and Labor Day weekend. So we've waited a LONG time for this one.

And so has Big Mike. He's found a wonderful woman and we're looking forward to celebrating with them all weekend. My hubby is in the wedding, so we're fumbling around trying to figure out logistics for the day, forgetting all that goes into weddings.

DANNY: "After the church, we'll take the boys home, chill and then head the reception."

ME: "No, you are in the wedding party. You'll have to go for pictures. I'll take the kids home and chill, grab a ride from someone else and meet you at the reception."

MIKEY: "Does this mean Hunter and me will be cousins?"

Hunter is Steph's son from her first marriage who is the same age as Mikey. Mikey seems to think Big Mike is his uncle. I had to explain that while he and dad are close friends, they are not related. Although I believe somewhere down the line, they are like fourth cousins by marriage or something. It's all very confusing, very West Side Irish Catholic. They're all related somehow.

Anyone having Road Runner problems?
Saw a post on a writer's forum recently about problems with Road Runner e-mail service. Is anyone in Northeast Ohio having problems? I've been pitching right and left and I'm concerned that maybe I should resend from Gmail account. For the record, Road Runner service stinks.

Still looking for Web designers
Got a few names, but I'm still looking for possible Web designer for my site. Please send me an e-mail with "Web designer" in subject line if you've got a suggestion.

Small world
SPJ launched another marketing push to editors and freelancers to promote our Freelancer Directory. As the contact person on the release, I had the pleasure of hearing from a few folks I haven't seen or heard from in a dozen or more years.

Great "works" display
Bay Village isn't exactly known for its fireworks display, but last night's show was better than in recent years, lasting 20 minutes from test to finale. But there were some new works, including one that looks like a waterfall in the sky. Very cool.

Roots of writer's block

"Of course, had I been trying for a debilitating case of writers' block, the conditions above Louie the Greek's couldn't have been better—hot, loud, the walls vibrating with every train pulling into and out of the station, the air vibrating with the aroma of pickles, bacon fat, fried potatoes and cheese. But I wouldn't have fared any better at a secluded writer's colony in the woods, because I was the ideal candidate for writer's block. All the classic defects converged in me—inexperience, impatience, perfectionism, confusion, fear. Above all I suffered from a naive view that writing should be easy. I thought words were supposed to come unbidden. The idea that errors were steppingstones to truth never once occurred to me, because I'd absorbed the ethos of the Times, that errors were nasty little things to be avoided, and misapplied that ethos to the novel I was attempting. When I wrote something wrong I always took it to mean that something was wrong with me, and when something was wrong with me I lost my nerve, my focus, and my will."

— from J.R. Moehringer's memoir, "The Tender Bar"

Finding More to read

I made an early morning run to the grocery store yesterday because we were out of coffee. I consider my timing fortuitous (an amazing thing considering my lack of caffeine). The newsstand must have been freshly stocked with July issues so of course I picked up a few for "research."

In my bag was More magazine. Three things attracted me to the combined July/August issue: the magazine's heft or "thunk factor" of 260 pages (signifying healthy ad revenue, hence an advertising-worthy readership); the cover photo of actress Holly Hunter looking positively fabulous at age 49; and the cover blips, which stood in stark contrast to say Glamour:

"Act your age: Over 40 and loving every minute"
"Summer style from classic to cutting edge: Real women test the trends"
"Uncautionary Tales: 18 women prove it's never too late to start a business, take up rock climbing ... or run away to Greece with your hairdresser"
"Hormonal weight gain: How to beat it"
"City of Dreams: The best place on earth to reinvent yourself"
"Beach books with a brain"

Last night I sat on my patio after dinner and read this thing from cover to cover. Cannot even remember the last time I was compelled by a magazine to do that. It was filled with great shorts and meaningful content and, more than anything else, the story of real women.

Positively loved the feature on San Miguel de Allende, Mexico and the women who shed their American burdens to live and thrive there. The piece on women entrepreneurs reminded me of one of the last business pieces I co-wrote as a full-time employee. The More piece even featured Cleveland's own Carol Latham, of Thermagon. There was even more Cleveland with a book excerpt of Connie Schultz's "...and His Lovely Wife: A Memoir from the Woman Beside the Man."

Smartness saturated each page — smart stories, smart women, smart ideas, smart writing, smart design. Love it, now I want to write for it, which is a good thing considering the women I find interesting subjects for stories tend to above the 20-35 age demographic of most women's magazines.

Back to pitching.

Odds and ends

Just a few minutes of breathing room today, so I've got to keep to a few short topics.

Seeking a Web designer
In the interest of ratcheting up my marketing efforts, I'm actively seeking a Web designer for my Web site. I'm looking for a clean, professional site with pages for bio, articles, books, blog, news, contact. Most of the copy is written; however, I'm also looking for suggestions on how best to feature articles (some of which are not available as links).

I would like to be able to update frequently (and cheaply, if possible). If you can help, please contact me at wendyhoke(at)oh(dot)rr(dot)com and reference Web designer in the subject line.

Evaluating new magazine markets
Yesterday's New York Times had an article about a start-up independent magazine called Organize. An interesting idea for a niche audience. The Times referenced Ready Made as an example of another independent pub with a niche market that was eventually purchased last fall by Meredith.

However, as Erik Sherman writes today, there are warning signs that this venture is under-funded and at risk from inexperienced hands. It's also unclear from writer guidelines whether the pub intends to pay for editorial submissions. Not a good sign of quality. Bottom line for writers: Proceed with caution.

I dream of Africa
Whenever I read articles like this, I feel so depressed at my inability to tackle such assignments. I've not yet read The Vanity Fair package, but I'm always amazed by the shortcuts news organizations will take in covering the world. How do you write intelligently about a continent without hearing from the people who live there?

Narrative magazine seeking help
I'm a big fan of Narrative magazine, and have occasionally shared some of its stories here. Today I received an e-mail asking for donations to help keep this independent magazine committed to bringing great literature online going strong. Check it out and then consider making a tax-deductible donation.

What I covet
The iPhone is so dang cool!!! You've got to check out NYT's David Pogue's multimedia piece to see its functionality. Just showed my kids and they agree -- it's a must-have piece of technology.

In one word, what's the story about?

Slapped on the wall above my desk and in direct line of sight when I gaze up from my laptop screen is a golden-yellow Post-It note with the words: Select, Focus, Reduce.

Coming off two big writing deadlines in which I've had to compress a year's worth of reporting into a combined 4,500 words of narrative, these three words have been my guide and my editor—a constant check on my writing.

Any writer worth his or her salt will tell you that it's much harder to write short than long. For this project, it almost seemed impossible. But I took a different approach this year. I first relied on my memory. What were the most important themes to emerge this year? Who were the strongest characters? What scenes were foremost in my mind?

While I could fashion a list and an outline with answers to those questions, an overarching theme eluded me on my first story. But as I started to think about the links between the answers I had in front of me, the theme emerged. Everything about this year and this project involves change. So I decided that I would explore:

-- the struggle to change
-- the power to change
-- one individual's ability to effect change
-- the need to change

This is the first time I've approached a writing assignment this way, to whittle an entire narrative down to one word, or, as Chip Scanlan wrote this week one theme. His Chip on Your Your Shoulder column provided a great example of how one photograph of Mississippi lawmen from the Civil Rights era could lead to an entire book about legacies. The author had a wise editor who came up with the one-word theme. The column was perfectly timed to help in my own work. Here's Scanlan with some writerly food for thought this Friday morning:

The best (themes) resonate. They reflect universal qualities and truths about what it means to be human. They connect the domains journalists spend their time in, such as law enforcement, politics, education, with news audiences. Every domain has its own jargon, mores and rules. A theme lays down a bridge between consumers and the news they need to function as citizens in a democracy.

It's a fortunate writer who gets to work with an editor like Jonathan Segal, one who understands that a single word holds the promise of an entire book. But you can give yourself, or another writer, that same a gift: a compass that points to the north star and helps you navigate journeys that lead to places where the best stories are found. Try it.

Working on a story? What's it really about? In one word.

My favorite animated character...

...is Carl Wheezer from Nickelodeon's, "Jimmy Neutron." While chilling during lunch today, the boys flipped to Nick for a dose of Carl, who was heard to tell his class:

"...And that's why you should never feed llamas pancakes."

I mean seriously, who thinks of this stuff? I love it! If you don't think Carl is a pop culture phenom, then check out his Wiki page. There's way more depth to this character than the lead.

It's not just what Carl says, but his inflection that makes him hilarious.

No truer words...

"I'm more afraid of being in a bubble than I am of wide-open spaces." — Mariane Pearl, wife of slain journalist Daniel Pearl in Newsweek

The Little Sparrow

Here's hoping La Vie En Rose comes to theaters in Cleveland.

Settling into another summer

There's typically such a whirlwind of activity that accompanies the end of a school year that it takes a few weeks to settle into something resembling a routine.

We're getting there ... slowly.

My work schedule has been hectic with several big writing deadlines and lots of pitching. But, as I've done in the past, I hit my desk at 6 a.m. and try to finish up by 1.

Two out of my three boys were grounded for the first weekend. One for being tardy for dinner (I know that's harsh, but I need to lay down the law right out of the gate.), the other for a solo adventure to catch frogs from a retention basin at a nearby park. Although it sounds as if it was a harmless little-boy adventure, I'm afraid I panicked at the thought of him either A) being abducted from a secluded park; or B) falling headfirst into the rather large retention basin.

I'm not anti-park and I do allow him to play at one closer to our house, but this one is isolated and there are always contractor vans parked in the lot with dudes probably (harmlessly) eating lunch. My protective Mama Bear instinct just doesn't want to chance it with my little guy.

So expectations for checking in, arriving home in time for dinner (I'm a huge proponent of family dinner time.) and being responsible for chores and things have been clearly set and, so far, followed.

My older two boys have been hounding me about cell phones. Ryan had one until he was pushed into a friend's pool in early May with his cell in his pocket. Of course it's toast. But I told him I wanted to see his year-end report card before we talked new phone. Plus I was utterly agitated at the teenager expectation that all things, regardless of cost, get instantly replaced.

Report cards arrived this week and everything looks good. Now I can deliver on my promise of a new phone or phones. Patrick is something of a nomad this summer, cruising around with his posse on his bike. He's good about telling me where he's going, but not always about where he will end up. So now I'm thinking I may get him a phone as well.

All of these events — kids being grounded, replacing phones, waiting for good grades, etc. — illustrate the challenges of sticking to your guns as a parent. Dan was out of town the first weekend of summer, so I was flying solo. It is certainly a huge pain the neck for me to have two grounded boys sulking around the house.

It would have been easier for me to un-ground them and let them play. And the cell phone issue? Let's just say Ryan not having the phone is more of a pain for me than it is for him, especially given his sports schedule. But I wanted him to know I was serious about ending the school year academically strong.

Point made.

Now if only I can get them to remember to shut the bathroom door when I'm on the phone in my office across the hall...

Latest UB story: Missionary returns from Cambodia

It's not available online, but here's my latest story from Friday's Catholic Universe Bulletin.

Missioner returns from sharing Christ's light in Cambodia
By Wendy A. Hoke

ROCKY RIVER — Shortly after John Pahls, a computer technician at Rocky River Public Library, returned from a two-year mission in Cambodia last August, he found himself in a Dollar General store near tears.

Among its well-stocked shelves were so many things that were desperately needed yet so expensive and nearly impossible to come by in Cambodia—dental floss, hydrogen peroxide, Epsom salts, laundry detergent—all available for $1.

Although he’s now back to working in the stately yet modern Rocky River Public Library instead of a rudimentary Learning Resource Center in Phnom Penh, Pahls holds both places close to his heart.

A parishioner at St. Patrick Church on Bridge Avenue, it was that church’s work of service to the poor and marginalized people on Cleveland's Near West Side that inspired Pahls to work with Maryknoll lay Missionary.

“I was energized by living in that area and seeing how the church is a witness for Christ in the community," he said. "I was inspired by that witness and foreign missionary work seemed like a natural extension for me."

Originally from Cincinnati, the 44-year-old had traveled extensively in the past, but saw this as the chance to move from tourist to “part of” a foreign community. “I chose Cambodia mostly because the team working in Asia was very dynamic and I liked the projects.”

With his master’s degree in library science and his years spent working at the Rocky River Public Library, Pahls had the opportunity to put his education and work experience to good use.

“We had a small Learning Resource Center to help children living in orphanages and group homes to study,” he said. Although his work was primarily with tutors and teachers, he occasionally stepped into the classroom, teaching math and later English.

Preparation for the two-year assignment included intensive study of the Cambodia language of Khmer.

“The children would tease me about my accent. I found I could understand what people would say and could understand words, but it took much longer to understand concepts,” he said.

Before arriving in Cambodia, Pahls admitted that he had a preconceived idea of working in solidarity with others on an equal footing. Cambodia’s culture, however, is based on hierarchy. To them, he was, “Older Brother.”

“They viewed me more as someone in a position of power who could help them,” he said. “I became more of a caretaker and a provider, which is not the role I had imagined.”

Being a witness for Christ on a grand scale was difficult in Cambodia. The effects of the violent communist-inspired Khmer Rouge still linger 30 years later and churches are typically associated with foreign influences such as the French and Vietnamese.

All missionary orders are registered as non-governmental organizations (NGOs), even though they are also engaged in liturgical ministry.

“The government supports NGOs because we are doing a lot of the social service and education that it is supposed to provide,” Pahls said.

In Battambang, the northwest province and former Khmer Rouge stronghold until as late as 1997, where Pahls also worked, the liturgical work is focused on the youth. By providing scholarships, education and involving a new generation in the work of the church, “There is hope this will set the stage for subsequent generations,” said Pahls.

Learning to live with the threat of constant danger is something to which everyone must adapt, he added. “You go through the inevitable questions of why am I here?” he said.

It takes a concerted effort not to focus on the macro and instead to focus on the people, “the little part where we can be a source of light.”

He smiled and remembered a saying his sister had told him: “It’s easier to wear a slipper then to try and carpet the whole world.” While he was gone, he kept in touch via e-mail with his colleagues at Rocky River Library and welcomed the chance to work with them again upon his return.

Pahls said he misses his Cambodian friends and says he would like to go back to Cambodia and deepen his experience there. For now, he is using his Asian experience to help work with Burmese refugees brought to Cleveland through the diocesan Migration and Refugee Services office.

Hoke is a freelance writer.

Paper Cuts

Kudos to the New York Times for its new book blog Paper Cuts. Dwight Garner, senior editor of The Book Review, has done a great job (in only a week of posting) bringing in a mix of the newsy, the gossipy and the offbeat of the book world.

Friday's post has a great photo of the now old New York Times building and a bit about the book review office's move. He also dredges up some terrific archival stuff, such as original ads promoting specific books and authors.

I'm adding to the link list here. Check it out and let me know what you think.

Transparency also means sharing what we don't know

Great article from Poynter Institute's Butch Ward on journalists' need to share not only what they know, but also what they don't know.

Tom Rosenstiel and Bill Kovach, in their book, "The Elements of Journalism," argue that journalists who are seeking renewed credibility should embrace the concept of transparency -- a willingness to share with the reader more information about how we know what we say we know.

And a willingness to say what we don't know.

"If journalists are truth seekers," the authors write, "it must follow that they be honest and truthful with their audiences, too -- that they be truth presenters. If nothing else, this responsibility requires that journalists be as open and honest with audiences as they can about what they know and what they don't."

Think about it: When you include in a story the questions that remain to be answered, you signal that the search for the truth is unfinished -- and needs to continue. You also reduce the chance that the reader or viewer will come up with their own list of unanswered questions. And you head off any criticism of your work as careless, shallow or biased by acknowledging that it is incomplete.

If our goal is to prove something beyond doubt, we need to keep reporting until we possess that proof -- or we decide to quit trying and kill the story.

But if our goal is to provoke debate, promote serious discussion, shine a light on a situation that deserves further examination, let's tell our readers and viewers about the work that remains to be done.

Odds are, we'll be more credible for it.

Review: "What You Have Left"

Maybe I have this perverted need to read about other people's misery. I'm thinking that's the only reason why I would recommend reading Will Allison's What You Have Left (Free Press; June 5, 2007).

This is not an upbeat story and yet it feels very breezy. It's the kind of dark study of human nature that always pulls me in close.

Using various points of view, it's the story of Holly Greer, her father Wylie and her husband Lyle. Tragically, Wylie's wife, a NASCAR hobby driver, is killed during a water skiing accident. A bereft and drifting Wylie leaves 5-year-old Holly with his father-in-law Cal and promises that he will return soon.

He doesn't and Holly grows up on Cal's farm outside of Columbia, S.C., without her mother or father.

The story quickly shifts from Holly's early loss to her grandfather's Alzheimer's diagnosis and his decision, after watching his own father deteriorate, to take his life when the disease starts to progress.

Holly leaves college to be with Cal, who decides to spend what time he has left renovating the old farmhouse for Holly. He hires Lyle to do the work and forms a quick friendship with the contractor. In a little bit of matchmaking by Cal, Holly and Lyle fall in love.

But just when Holly thinks she's talked Cal out of taking his own life, he swallows a bunch of pills. She is left bereft and alone again and strikes out on a path of near self-destruction as she tries to track down her long-lost father. She gets very close, but Lyle and Wylie see to it that the long-awaited reunion doesn't happen—yet.

While I've not experienced loss to Holly's depths, I do recognize my own loner streak in her. And maybe that's why I turned page after page of her story.

My mother's accident happened on the day after the Fourth of July. The night before, she and my father had hosted their annual cookout, a big bash that involved a bonfire, several coolers of Schlitz, roman candles, and loud music from the eight-track player in my father's Firebird, which he parked near the lake's edge. While the grown-ups drank and danced the shag, I wandered along the moonlit bank until I found myself staring up at a neighbor's tree house. On a sagging platform that jutted out over the water, I sat watching the party, indistinct figures moving in the firelight. It had been maybe ten minutes when my mother noticed I was missing. After she checked the house, she stood at the end of the dock and called my name. There was real fear in her voice, and it sent a shiver through me. I climbed down and ran to her as fast as I could, calling out all the way, I'm coming, I'm coming.

Holly's fears of abandonment cause her to drink too much, smoke too much, drive recklessly, gamble uncontrollably, flee from the one who loves her most and all the while you can't help but feel that she's justified in some of the behavior.

The story drifts off about two-thirds into the book when it details the misery of an ordinary marriage—lack of sexual intimacy, one person working too hard, the other not as much, a mother giving her children her all while neglecting her husband, a husband who can't seem to articulate his needs beyond the sexual, a desperate night in which he comes close to sleeping with a prostitute and a pathetic attempt at two people trying to quit smoking.

It would all be so depressing were it not so ordinary.

While Holly claims to have given up on finding her father, Lyle persists and locates him via the magic of Google racing at a track in Indianapolis. Holly is moved to send him a letter thanking him for the pithy amount of financial support he had sent over the years. She writes to request back payment of child support to the tune of $28,800, which would be placed in a college savings fund for her daughter, Claire.

Wylie is thrilled to hear from her after so many years and invites her and Claire to visit.

That night, against my better judgment, I told Claire to pack a suitcase, we were going to Indianapolis.

Lyle frowned. "Don't take the bait."

"It's not bait," I said. "It's a bluff. And I'm calling it."

Only it's not a bluff or bait. Her father has a disease, brought on by a lifetime of excessive drinking and a wicked seizure, that has impaired his short-term memory. He records everything with a video camera so he doesn't forget. And he doesn't want to forget meeting his daughter and granddaughter for the first time.

The meeting is bittersweet and you can't help feeling as if Wylie is trying to make up for Holly's lost childhood by giving so much love and attention to Claire.

The title's inspiration comes early in the book when Cal recites one of his favorite Hubert Humphrey lines to Holly's eternal exasperation: "My friend, it's not what they take away from you that counts; it's what you do with what you have left."

What they have left is so little, but the story leaves you with the sense that maybe little is all they need to build something bigger—and hopefully better.

__________________________________________________

Author Will Allison will be reading from "What You Have Left" from 3-5 p.m. on Monday, June 25th at Nighttown in Cleveland Heights. His visit is sponsored by Appletree Books.

Allison has Cleveland roots, having moved here when he was a sophomore in high school. One of his early acknowledgments is to writer Mary Grimm, who is also an English professor at Case.

Face in the stars

When You are Old

When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

My favorite poem in honor of the 142nd birthday of Irish poet William Butler Yeats

"My" pet peeve

Several years ago I was talking to a dynamic young student journalist who had this incredibly annoying habit of referring to everyone on her school paper's staff as "my reporters," "my copyeditors" or "my photographers." It was the "my" thing that really grated on my nerves.

I doubt she even realized she was saying this, but I found it patronizing and a not-so-subtle play for power.

The reason I bring this up is that on some of the freelance forums to which I subscribe, there are freelancers who describe "my editor" at various national pubs as if they worked with them exclusively. I see it as their not-so-subtle way of grabbing for power when in reality freelancers have little power in that relationship.

Having spent nine years of my life as a magazine editor working with freelancers, I am keenly aware that the power lies with the editor. If someone was a pain the neck, I just didn't hire them again.

Bearing that lopsided dynamic in mind, I prefer to refer to a magazine editor as "the editor I've worked with" as opposed to "my editor."

The exception to this rule is if you are on staff or have an ongoing contractual arrangement with a specific editor — as in "my" book editor.

SPJ outs secret senator

SPJ leaders have been working tirelessly to bring to light the initiator of a secret hold on legislation that has bipartisan support, was approved by the House and had unanimous support of the Senate Judiciary Committee. Visit the link above to learn how you get speak out on this measure.

I'll let Charles N. Davis, associate professor of Journalism Studies at the Missouri School of Journalism and executive director of the National Freedom of Information Coalition, tell you the story. His op-ed was picked by 165 publications.

Bill seeks to shed light but ends up in the dark
By Charles N. Davis

Congress, apparently content to explore ever new depths in public disapproval, is on the verge of having a single member derail the most meaningful reform in years of the federal Freedom of Information Act.

How, you ask, when overwhelming majorities support the legislation in both the House and Senate?

The secret hold, of course. Ever heard of the secret hold? It's a beauty -- a real relic of the stuffed shirts of yesteryear, smoke-filled rooms and fat cats with stogies guffawing over the latest bamboozle of the taxpaying schmucks.

Members of the Society of Professional Journalists, the nation's largest journalism-advocacy organization, used the power of the blogosphere to find out whose legislative bludgeon was buried in the back of open government. We called every senator, one by one, until at last Sen. Jon Kyl, R-Ariz., came blinking and grimacing into the sunlight and admitted it was he who placed a secret hold . . . on a bill that addresses secrecy in government. You can't make this stuff up.

Sen. Kyl -- this year's Secrecy Champion -- has several as-yet-unstated objections to the Freedom of Information Reform Act, a bill that would improve one of the strongest tools Americans have to supervise the inner workings of government and hold elected officials accountable.

The bill has plenty of bipartisan support. It is the product of tireless work by many open government and press freedom groups and fine legislative craftsmanship by Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman John Cornyn, R-Texas, and Sen. Patrick Leahy, D-Vt. The House in March approved a version of the bill, with 80 Republicans joining 228 Democrats for a 308-117 vote. The Senate Judiciary Committee then unanimously sent the measure to the full Senate.

In your civics book, this would be the moment where our senators hold a public debate on the merits and demerits of the legislation and then vote.

But no, not when senators, using an archaic parliamentarian parlor trick, can stop a bill dead in its tracks merely by telling their party's Senate leader or secretary that they wish to place a hold on the bill. That's when Sen. Kyl, who routinely charts a brave course on the immigration debate and can often be counted on to reason rather than bloviate, slipped in the hold.

The practice of honoring secret holds has no basis in law and has no support in Senate rules. It's a good-ol'-boy creation and another of the seemingly endless perks of the Senate.

Tear down the whole argument in favor of secret holds, and it comes down to cowardice.

Sen. Charles Grassley, R-Iowa, who discloses his holds as a matter of practice, introduced an amendment in 2006 to force all senators to identify themselves when placing a hold on a bill. That proposal has gone nowhere fast. Surprised?

Go Cavs!

Mikey is pulling out all his Cavs jerseys this week. He's got every color except for the old-style orange. Thank God tomorrow is the last day of school because I'd be hard-pressed to get this young fan into bed before the game is over.

Been listening to national media discussion of the finals. Either no one outside of Cleveland and San Antonio will be watching, or else people will be watching LeBron. Either way, I thought this was an interesting statement from NBA commissioner in today's NY Times. A refreshing change after listening to Sir Charles for the past two months.

"LeBron is beyond a highlight reel,” said Commissioner David Stern in acknowledging that there is a certain subtlety to James’s brilliance.

Wild, cool sounds of nature

Today's Christian Science Monitor had this story on bioacoustician Bernie Krause and his 40-year effort to record sounds in nature.

Now you can hear his sounds archived at WildSanctuary.com through a free download from Google Earth. Here's a bit about the California-based nonprofit from its Web site:

Our worldwide collection represents over 3,500 hours of wild soundscapes and nearly 15,000 species. The mission: To help connect people to the wild by preserving, presenting, and protecting the voice of the natural world.

Check it out and show your kids!

Latest UB story: The church and the environment

Here's a link to Friday's Catholic Universe Bulletin with my latest story on Oblate Father Darrell Rupiper and his Eco-Mission at St. Anthony of Padua in Fairport Harbor.

Oblate priest presses on to preserve God's creation
By Wendy A. Hoke

FAIRPORT HARBOR- In the tiny lakeside town of Fairport Harbor, a quiet revolution is taking place.

Parishioners at St. Anthony of Padua Church are engaged in an Eco-Mission led by one of the Catholic Church’s leading voices on environmentalism.

“My hope is that this becomes the primary issue of the church,” said Oblate Father Darrell Rupiper, who travels across the country from his home in Chicago preaching about the threats to Earth. St. Anthony is his 55th Eco-Mission.

A combination of preaching and teaching, Father Rupiper’s Eco-Missions embody both the spiritual and practical. Father Rupiper will preach at St. Anthony’s Masses this weekend, concluding a three-week visit to Lake County.

He preaches about preserving what God has created. His goal for those participating is two-fold—growing individual souls and saving the planet.

Through his homilies, school visits and weeknight lectures, the Oblate priest builds individual awareness of the link between the natural world and individual spiritual well being. Early during his visit parishioners were given a list of 26 practical suggestions for improving the environment and were asked to commit to at least one that they would then share publicly at the offertory.

In this final weekend individuals move together as a parish to make a difference in the environment.

Father Peter Mihalic, St. Anthony’s pastor, said parishioners are sensitive to environmental issues. Fairport Harbor’s history was tied to the Diamond Shamrock plant, which is now a brownfield, an area filled with pollutants. The twin cooling towers of the Perry Nuclear Power Plant are clearly visible from the beach.

But it is also a place of great natural beauty with the Grand River feeding into Lake Erie. “Our parish has always been involved in social justice issues. We want to preserve our gifts here,” Father Mihalic said.

Through the connections of one parishioner, Father Rupiper makes this his first Ohio visit.

Parishioners were prepped in advance of the mission, watching Al Gore’s “An Inconvenient Truth” and other films to increase awareness.

“Nature is first and foremost a place where the human meets the divine,” Father Rupiper said.

But what happens when humans are detached from nature? They lose the sense of the divine and our connection to it through nature, Father Rupiper said. And now humanity is at a point of crisis.

“Al Gore said if you want to go fast, go alone and if you want to go far, go together. Now we have to go fast, together. Politicians are paralyzed by this issue,” he told parishioners on May 21 during an evening program, “so we have to do it.”

The next day, Father Rupiper soaked up the sun on the rectory patio. He acknowledged that he must be careful in the sun because he’s already paid the price, pointing out a scar from cancer. But the weather is warm and beautiful and he’s a child of the outdoors.

“I lived on a farm in Iowa so we were dealing with nature at all times,” he said. He spent several years working in Brazil on behalf of the most marginalized of that society. It filled him with a sense of purpose, of fighting for the “little ones.”

But his ecological epiphany occurred during a visit with Passionist Father Thomas Berry. “He said that the Earth itself is in danger, that we are closing off life systems. The Earth as a living organism is withering. That struck me and got me started.”

In response, Father Rupiper devised the Eco-Mission about three and a half years ago. He said he is the only priest in the United States doing this.

In his 70 years, he has had a colorful history of protests, arrests, negotiations and service. Today he is one of 1,000 people trained in Al Gore’s army of volunteers sharing the message of global climate change and the need for immediate action.

The action goes beyond politics and science, and that is also part of Father Rupiper’s message. “Pope John Paul II said, ‘The idea of an ecological vocation has become an urgent moral responsibility in today’s world,’” he said.

While the church may be slow to react, after visiting 55 parishes, Father Rupiper said the response from parishioners has been positive.

For more information on Eco-Missions, call Father Darrell Rupiper at 773-493-8917 or e-mail drupiper2000@hotmail.com.

Father Rupiper’s 26 practical suggestions for preserving the environment can be found at www.catholicuniversebulletin.org.

Hoke is a freelance writer.