The bully pulpit and other political devices.........

Definition: According to Wikipedia, a “bully pulpit” is defined as a position sufficiently conspicuous to provide an opportunity to speak out and be listened to.

   I recently came across an article about Theodore Roosevelt, one of our more colorful American Presidents and remembered that he had coined the phrase “bully pulpit”, using the White House as his 'pulpit' from which he attempted to generate public support for his political policies and agendas. For sure, being President of the United States, today more commonly referred to as POTUS on most television shows, is certainly a position of power and of potentially significant influence. But along with the advantage of having 'the pulpit' comes the responsibility and a respect for the influence it yields. And let's not forget to include ethical behavior. Perhaps local 'state houses'  also become 'mini-bully pulpits' for governors and wanna be's too.

   Before going on, however, let me add that in the days of President Roosevelt, the word 'bully' had a much different meaning than it does today, a more positive meaning. 'Bully' was an adjective meaning wonderful, superb, outstanding. When somewhat shouted “bully for you” it meant “good for you!” The word bully even meant 'to be a lover.' 

   Today, however, the term 'bully' has transitioned to a different meaning. A 'bully' is someone who uses 'negative tactics' as a way to force, intimidate or dominate others, bullying tactics.

   From a bit of my past, at a fairly young age in grade school, Timmy Barrett would  bully me on the playground after school in an attempt to get me to give him my baseball glove. No way! Of course, my first name often contributed to additional taunts and name-calling as well from some of his friends.... until the day I picked up a stick and whacked Timmy across his forehead. From that point on and after a trip to the principal's office, Timmy never bothered me again. (The fact that he and his family soon moved away didn't hurt either.)

   From the days of Teddy Roosevelt to 2015, being a bully has evolved from being “wonderful and superb” to being someone who uses force and coercion to get what they want or wish to influence. Sound familiar?

   Having been on the side of one who has been bullied, at the time I was too young to really understand the motivation and reasons why someone becomes a bully. Yes, I had a nice baseball glove, lived in a home with a mother and father, did not live on the street or was not allegedly abused as a child.

   I had goals and dreams. True. I came from a middle class family, although some thought my family was rich. I wanted to go  to college, become successful at a job and raise a family. I felt an obligation to give back to my country and community. I wasn't angry, didn't carry a chip on my shoulder because I had been forced out of my house to live with the neighbors  nor did I feel the need to make fun of others  who I perceived as better than I was or who I sometimes even feared because of the color of their skin, the way they dressed or the language they spoke.

   Today a person can not walk through any school hallway at any grade level in Maine without seeing the signs and posters about “bullying'. “Just Say No to Bullying.” "This is a Bully-Free Zone"

   But I have come to the understanding, over time and life experiences, that the key to whether someone becomes a bully or remains  one as an adult is rooted in having both positive role models and a feeling of being in control of one's life. The prerequisite for success is a matter of self perceptions. If a person feels there is an imbalance in social or political status then that person will use the behaviors they feel necessary to either level the playing field in their eyes or in some cases, even gain the upper hand. And often those bullying behaviors learned and practiced as a child will continue into adulthood.

   I often wonder what motivates someone to run for a political office, a position of power and influence. Is it a desire to serve, to give back in some way to those who had been a positive impact on a life or is it driven by the need to gain or regain control over something which there had been little or no control. Is it to gain the advantage of having a 'bully pulpit' in order to finally "be heard and listened to?"

   It was easy for me to pick up the stick and hit Timmy in the forehead. At the moment it felt good! And although I was frustrated  with Timmy's constant bullying, standing up to the bully may have turned out to be a good thing. I proved to myself and others at a young age that I could take on the bully and win (although the meeting with the principal and my parents was not fun).
   In its original T.R. definition, a 'bully pulpit ' was a position of conspicuous opportunity to speak out and be listened to. But over time that definition has changed. What happens when one uses a  'bully pulpit' to become nothing more than a present day 'bully'? Is that an effective leadership style? And  when the bully finally realizes that no one is listening or cares any more............then what?

Simple observations.......

   I don't need to remind anyone how challenging the winter of 2015 has been to date. Extreme cold and  endless snow storms have blanketed Central Maine with deep, deep snow that seems like it will never melt. I can't remember the last day we had temperatures in the 30 degree range.

   Many have described this winter as 'a good old Maine winter' but to be honest, I must either be too old or possibly too young to remember what a 'good old Maine winter' was like. But if this winter is an example, then I guess I am glad I don't remember what they were like.

   Current condition, the low temps and the constant snow, can bring out the best and the worst in people and as one who likes to 'people-watch' I only need to look around to see some folks at their finest and others, well.....

   I recently stopped  to pick up a cup of morning coffee and a bite to eat before heading off to work. ( By the way, the early morning temp was -7 degrees) A young girl pulled into the parking spot next to me and raced to the door. Although there were several others waiting at the counter to be served, she jumped to the front of the line, ordering a medium sized coffee and a donut.

   Almost back in her car, she returned complaining that she had not asked for sugar in her coffee and demanded another, without sugar. The clerk obliged, with a smile I might add, and the girl went on her way. As she left, the person in front of me in line shouted out to her .....”Will there be anything else deary or can I place my order now?” But by now she was pulling out of the parking lot.

   With the threat of another potentially large storm looming, grocery stores often become places that bring out more than the worst in people. No shopping carts or those little red baskets to put 'stuff' in, what's a guy to do. Pushing and shoving to get the last package of Ring Dings on the shelf....it's a shopping frenzy.

   And those shopping carts people are pushing around seemed to be filled to the top. I wonder if the size of the storm or the predicted amount of snow influences how much people buy to stock up. Maybe there is a conspiracy with food stores and weather personnel. The bigger the storm the more people will buy.

   The lines at the checkout are long and people become impatient, but it is a good opportunity to observe the latest in winter weather attire. This day, the temp was around 11 degrees. Topping the list of what to wear when one goes shopping were the brightly colored fleece pajama bottoms. There were at least five or six different patterns and designs waiting in the  checkout lines. Oh, there's one with the Boston Red Sox logo.

   Most people were wearing some type or winter shoes or boots on their feet, but right in front of me..... the person was wearing pink flip- flops. Now that's got to be cold. But she also did not have on a jacket or coat either. Maybe she was from Florida or some place warm.

   But sometimes the weather can bring out the good side of people too. An elderly woman was in the next checkout line. When told the amount she owed for her purchases, she realized she did not have enough money to pay the bill. (She was actually paying with cash.) Without skipping a beat, the young family waiting in line behind her paid the balance of her bill. No question she was a bit embarrassed and offered to pay them back, but they told her not to worry and they struck up a friendly conversation as they walked to their cars.

   I have been spending some time in several of the area schools recently. The only group more anxious for the upcoming mid-winter vacation than the kids were the teachers. I am sure that as Friday afternoon rolled around you could hear the countdown to the end of the day begin.

   Interesting, though. In talking with some of the staff members, few, if any, were doing any traveling to warmer climates this vacation. There was one cruise, one trip to Disney World and that was about it. Several were going skiing and snow shoeing.

   As winter drags on you can tell that people are getting 'edgy'. There are very few smiles or people saying 'thank you'. Everyone seems to be in a bit of a rush.

    For me, I am waiting for that first 35 degree day, the day when the snow on my roof begins to melt, the day I can begin to see my driveway again, the day I can take my car to the car wash and not worry about turning it into a block of ice. Surely then, people will begin to smile again.

150 miles can take you into a different world......

   Television and radio news broadcasts will often offer “the week in review” and I had thought about that as a title for this week's blog. It was a busy week and coupled with the cold Maine weather, snow and a bit of extra travel... OK, I'll admit it, I was a bit tired on Friday night. But to give you a report of 'my week in review'? How about just one day?

   A journey of only 150 miles can take you into a different world and sometimes we need those opportunities to help put a bit of perspective back into our life. With all the terrible and horrifying news we hear every day taking place around the world it's nice to know there are places and values that time and people still protect.

   Part of my week's travels took me on a journey to almost the end of the earth, or at least the U.S. Border. It's called Route 201 and in its entirety runs from the coast of Maine to the Canadian border, two very unique and distinct regions of our state. It begins at the Atlantic Ocean near Brunswick and takes you to the woods and mountains that make up the northwest corner of Maine. To some, 150 miles may seem like a long ride, especially on roads covered in snow and ice. But this trip, even in the middle of winter, still offers some beautiful sights and a look at the “hearty stock' of people called 'Mainers'.

   This week, I jumped on Route 201 in Skowhegan to head north but I have traveled the route from Brunswick many times as it passes through a number of what some from away might consider small towns. The route, for the most part, parallels the Kennebec River, a waterway flowing with its own rich history and stories.

   But on this day, a right turn at the large wooden statue in downtown Skowhegan and that was the beginning of my journey. Most of the roads were still well covered in fresh snow and ice, requiring an extra cautious drive and a great deal more attention to the road conditions and surroundings. And perhaps, that turned out to be a good thing. It gave me a bit more time to appreciate what was going on around me.

   A few miles from the center of the town the landscape and surroundings change significantly. There are fewer homes, winding roads and ….look at all the pine trees covered in a jacket of snow. Are those fresh deer tracks along the side of the road? You bet! Real fresh!

   Eventually the road and the Kennebec River meet up side by side again and it is easy, even in winter, to experience the beauty of the area. By the way, at this point Route 201 becomes a National Scenic Highway.

   Small variety stores, aging motels, cabins and camps (old, but well maintained) dot the country side, providing places to stop and rest, to pick up a fresh cup of coffee or spend a few days enjoying what the area has to offer. No large Marriott hotels here. This particular time of year the snowmobiles probably outnumber the cars probably 3 to 1.

   My destination on this day was Jackman and once I got to The Forks, I knew I only had about 25 more miles to go.

   The road from The Forks to Jackman is both hilly and curvy as it cuts through the river valley. But I will say that at the top of the last hill before entering Jackman, with a view of the town below and Canada off in the distance, with a bright, clear blue sky, the view was beautiful. Fresh snow, smoke from the chimneys below....it was worth a picture or two.

   My task for the day in Jackman was to spend a bit of time at the local school. Being a very small town, all the kids in town attend school in a building that houses grades K to 12. It reminded me of my first teaching position in W Va, a small mining town with 128 students in grades K-12. And like the school in W. Va. this school, over the years, not only known for some exceptional graduates and educational programs, also usually has a pretty good basketball team too. Right now they are ranked No. 1 in their division going into the tournament next week.

   After a few hours at the school it was time to head 'down state'. The day turned out to be very successful. The students we met worked hard. They were polite, even said “thank you” at the appropriate times, opened doors for us and pleasantly said “good bye” when we left.

   It was obvious the students were very proud of their school. A small town, a small school, a great deal of pride and almost out of reach from the rest of the world. It was for me, on this day, a brief glimpse of a different world.

   There were very few, it any, students walking around with cell phone or IPads or texting their friends. They didn't need to. Their friends were all right there and their families, just down the street. They carried notebooks and textbooks and  backpacks like other kids in other schools, but there was this strange and eerie sense of freedom in their movement throughout the building and.... the front door was always open to visitors and guest.  Maybe it wasn't so bad living near the edge after all.

   I got back into my car and, as if out of habit, reached for my cell phone to see who had called. But I put the phone back down on the front seat and decided to wait until I was a bit closer to home. There was no rush. It was almost like I was living in a different world.