January february 2017 Sydney Biddle Barrows

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Politics . Art . Health . Economics January | February 2017

Sydney Biddle Barrows

Movie starring Candice Bergen about her life story Descendant of Mayflower Colonist Nom de Guerre: Sheila Devin Harvard Business uses book Best selling author TV Personality

METANOIA


METANOIA EXECUTIVE AND STAFF

A NEW WAY OF THINKING

PUBLISHERS

SALME JOHANNES LEIS & ALLISON PATTON

COPY CHIEF

CALEB NG

Assistant copy chief

EXECUTIVE DIRECTORS

Jillian Currie JR LEIS AND HEINO LEIS

EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR OF MARKETING

DAL FLEISCHER

PHOTO ARCHIVIST

GALINA BOGATCH

INTERNATIONAL DISTRIBUTOR

SUZETTE LAQUA

INTERVIEWER/PHOTOGRAPHER

BRITANY SNIDER

VIDEOGRAPHER CONTRIBUTORS

ATTILA KOVARCSIK Dr. Gordon Hogg

Gerald Auger Suzette Laqua Maureen Bader Marilyn Lawrie Alex Barberis Hank Leis Andy Belanger Salme Leis Donald J. Boudreaux Chris MacClure Dr Tim Brown Dunstan Massey Kamala Coughlan Seth Meltzer Brian Croft Thomas Mets Miki Dawson Dr Caleb Ng Cheryl Gauld Janice Oleandros Len Giles Stefan Pabst Kulraj Gurm Dr Allison Patton Carly Hilliard Luis Reyes Marilyn Hurst Cara Roth Dr Arthur Janov Dr Bernard Schissel Randolph Jordan Pepe Serna Richard King IV Lisa Stocks Peter and Maria Kingsley Dr Jack Wadsworth Mark Kingwell Dan Walker Rod LAmirand Harvey White

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METANOIA CONTENTS

A NEW WAY OF THINKING

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY

BY HANK LEIS

THE CHALLENGES OF CHANGE

BY DR. GORDON HOGG

RANT: THE LAST TANGO

BY HANK LEIS

THE MAGIC BANK ACCOUNT MAYOR OF LAS VEGAS CAROLYN GOODMAN WHAT A RIDE

BY LEN GILES

ON SYDNEY BIDDLE BARROWS

BY HANK LEIS

DAN WALKER CHRONICLES

BY DAN WALKER

CANADIAN EDUCATION

BY DR JACK WADSWORTH

A GECKO, AN ALLEGORY, AND A RAT

BY ROD LAMIRAND

MISSIVES

BY DONALD BOUDREAUX

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A magazine is like a movie production company. Behind the story the reader gets to enjoy, is another untold story and on occasion it is even more interesting and compelling. The SYDNEY BIDDLE BARROWS story took over six months to put together. The idea came from watching a movie about the MAYFLOWER and then asking the question, “Whatever happened to .....?� Contact was made, discussions were had, and finally the interview was done. Sydney Barrows, is the kind of person who is composed, classy, and has a presence of mind when the roof caves in. She is the epitome of grace under fire. Not for that reason alone her story is noteworthy. What followed her crises involved courage, resourcefulness, and commitment. What happened to her in a moment in time would define the rest of her life. And at the end of her telling us the story, well dare I say it, we had become friends. GORDON HOGG has been in politics his entire life. It is difficult for all politicians to reveal themselves without concern for their public image. Hogg has taken the risk in telling his compassionate story. It is our hope he will continue to contribute his writings to METANOIA as he moves on from his job as a politician. Over time we have come to know him and like him. He has completed his thesis for a Ph.D. His studies in politics and leadership will contribute to our understanding of how things work from the inside. Rod Lamirand continues to enthral us with stories about his journeys as a teacher. The cultures he immersed himself into were for him both educational and life threatening, and therefore his story is a most worthy read. Boudreaux is a professor of economics at George Mason University, and in this issue for those who care to be people of knowledge, he presents a list of must know economists. A heart attack is not a funny thing, unless it happens to Hank Leis. Read the RANT to get a laugh.

Since the founding of Metanoia Magazine by three Naturopathic Doctors and the Leis family in 2008, we have produced over ninety issues. We have had over one thousand articles written, including interviews of over 100 actors, 100 artists, dozens of politicians, philosophers, psychologists, and experts in other fields. A majority of the writers have post-graduate degrees or have expertise or knowledge of a special nature.


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The Challenges of Change By Dr. Gordon Hogg, MLA, PhD

Dr. Hogg, Minister of State for ActNow BC, is a Member of the British Columbia Legislative Assembly for the Liberal Party. A psychologist, he was a Regional Director in the province’s Corrections Service prior to his election in 1997. ActNow BC is a government initiative that crosses departmental lines to promote healthy living. I listened carefully, sometimes intently, for it was a passionate presentation. I started to understand the kind of experiences, the kind of history that could evoke such emotions.

longer just academic exercises. They were emotions, feelings, hopes and aspirations – they reflected the future of individuals and the future of their countries.

Hundreds of legislators, representing one hundred and seventy Legislatures, were gathered in Abuja, Nigeria, for the 52nd Commonwealth Parliamentary Conference. The Commonwealth Parliamentary Association mission is “enhancing knowledge and understanding of democratic governance”. The disparity in political cultures and approaches that I had read about I was now experiencing in real time with real people. The people and their stories were no

The subject was domestic violence, but the lesson was politics. It was about “democratic governance”. Each of our jurisdictions faces unique, if not monumental, challenges in generating the political will and support for change and each of us can learn from each others’ experiences and from research. In Canada, as in most Western democracies, we are fortunate that economic, social and technological conditions have improved since premodern times. Rates of poverty, disease, illiteracy and inequality – while not eradicated – are nowhere near

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what they were a century ago. Yet these remain serious problems for citizens in developing or newly industrialized countries. Developed nations have many seemingly intransigent problems to overcome. How can we achieve balance between the health needs of our populations with the ever-increasing range of new treatments available, and with dramatically escalating costs challenging our ability to pay? How do we smoothly shift our fossil-fuel based economies to renewable energy sources? How do we gain consensus on the definition and effects of the possibility of global warming? Contemplating issues such as these can make us as legislators feel


insignificant and ineffective. Adding to that sense of futility, in Western democracies we are now finding evidence that economic prosperity does not correlate with subjective measures of well-being: despite increases in economic prosperity, individuals are not feeling better about their lives and their futures. Developed nations are now facing “democratic deficits”, characterized by pervasive apathy (at best) or cynicism (at worst) towards governments, politicians and legislative institutions. Taking all these trends together, we may begin to ask if there is a better way to support the growth of wellbeing and hope for people. One way that shows some promise is found in the notions of social capital. It indicates that we have reason to be hopeful about our ability to identify and respond to the “disconnect” between changing social values and our more traditional assumptions about measuring the effectiveness of governance. Rather than feeling overwhelmed and immobilized by the increasing pace of change, we can be challenged and reinvigorated to reassess our roles as legislators.

The political paradox: What can we learn from listening?

In the 1990’s, social scientists, including economists, sociologists, psychologists and health researchers, began to question the use of economic prosperity as the touchstone measure of well-being in Western industrialized nations. Research indicates that in Western society, increases in the availability, range and consumption of goods and services, once they far outstrip the satisfaction of basic needs, can no longer stand in as general measures of life satisfaction. Researchers in this field compare contemporary Western macro indicators of average family incomes, health and longevity rates, educational attainment levels, available leisure time and consumption of basic and luxury goods with those of previous generations. In every case, current levels are higher than ever before. They contrast those rising rates with the relatively stable levels of happiness

reported over the same periods, finding that self-assessed levels of wellbeing increase with income levels only to middle-class averages. After attaining that level of affluence, its correlation to citizens’ sense of well-being weakens. Ultimately, researchers conclude that the “law of diminishing marginal utility” is at play: after a certain threshold is reached, the consumption of goods and services brings diminishing returns to the consumer. The result is a “discontinuity between prosperity and happiness”, as one researcher has noted. Indeed, while researchers who study happiness find that self-reported levels have remained more or less stable over the last 50 years, health researchers find that rates of depression and anxiety are on the increase. One commonly cited figure claims that in the postwar era, depression has increased tenfold in North America and Europe. Some reasons for this disconnect include “the unsettled character of progress” – although older problems are solved, new ones always emerge, sometimes from the solutions to the old problems. Meanwhile, the progress made in overcoming the original problems is forgotten. Another explanation is that extreme points of view attract voters, donors and viewers, giving an incentive to political organizations, interest groups and the news media to focus on the negative. At the personal level, reasons may include rising standards as to what people want and believe they need, and “anticipation induced anxiety”, in which people cannot imagine that the rate of progress they have seen in their and their parents’ lifetimes can be sustained. Evolutionary psychology suggests that we are simply hardwired to feel ill-at-ease: in the realm of natural selection, contented creatures are more likely to be done away with by those whose competitive drive is fueled by the stress of continuous dissatisfaction. Alternatively, some believe that once our fundamental material needs are met, other needs come to the fore, such as the needs for purpose, relationship and community.

Generating social capital

The latter explanation is supported by researchers who study the condition of civil society and its associate, social capital. Political scientist Robert Putnam, with his book Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community, galvanized contemporary interest in the importance of social capital and the effects of its decline. He finds that since the mid-1960’s, Americans have become increasingly alienated from each another and from their communities, to the detriment of their personal health and to community and national well-being. Although he is speaking of the United States, similar (but not uniform) trends are found in Canada and many other Western nations. Civil society is an elastic concept, the shape of which depends on the definitions various authors use for their specific purposes. Central to most definitions, however, is the notion that civil society excludes relationships between citizens and the state (such as elected representatives and voters, or public service providers and recipients) and relationships among economic actors (such as employers and employees, or corporations and customers). The definition often includes association, political party or union memberships, and relationships associated with recreation and hobbies, volunteering and service, religion or spiritual practice, extended family, neighborhoods and local communities. These relationships may be formal or informal, involving organizations or just personal networks among family, friends, neighbours and acquaintances. In terms of social capital formation, face-to-face connections are more significant than anonymous ones, such as “mailing list memberships” in organizations that have no local chapters. Civil society is important because it is the place that gives rise to social capital, the intangible substance that political scientists, sociologists, and business and management theorists now suspect

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is a currency with which to measure both personal well-being and the wellbeing of communities and other social structures, such as workplaces and schools. Social capital as a concept is as multifaceted as the web of networks in civil society. Definitions commonly include the related notions of trust and reciprocity that give rise to shared norms of behavior. “Specific” reciprocity is based on self-interest: one individual assists a specific other with the expectation of getting a favour in return. However, when it comes to social capital, the gold standard is “generalized” reciprocity, which Putnam says works on the widespread assumption of trust in the community: “I’ll do this for you without expecting anything specific back from you, in the confident expectation that someone else will do something for me down the road.” Social trust, that basic belief in the goodness of “generalized others”, has declined along with social capital and participation in civil society. According to Putnam, “for better or worse, we rely increasingly – we are forced to rely increasingly – on formal institutions, and above all on the law, to accomplish what we used to accomplish through informal networks reinforced by generalized reciprocity – that is, through social capital.”

Assessing and relieving discontent

Researchers caution that the degree of decline and the causal factors are likely to vary depending on which forms of social capital and which jurisdictions we are considering. In the case of the U.S., Putnam believes that an explanation should include some combination of economic pressures, urban sprawl, technological innovation and generational value changes. Financial imperatives (the demands of paid employment) have made most people busier, but especially those women who were traditionally the caretakers of social capital in their local communities. As suburbs sprawl, people spend more time out of their neighbourhoods,

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either commuting or working and shopping in other areas that are designated for those activities. Electronic entertainment has enhanced the formation of long-distance, anonymous networks, but has also “facilitate[d] the withdrawal from civic and social life”. Finally, Putnam argues that individualistic values, which emerged with the post-World-WarTwo baby boom generation and have become entrenched with subsequent generations, have incrementally replaced the community oriented values of what he calls the “civic generation”, roughly speaking, those born between 1910 and 1940. Whatever the cause of its decline, it is thought that a restoration of social capital might go a long way towards alleviating the unease of affluence described above. Somehow, we already know that. “Social capital”, through other terms associated with its enhancement or decline, has quietly entered the legislator’s lexicon. The cluster of ideas associated with the phrases “work-life balance”, “sustainable communities”, “smart growth”, “natural advocacy” and “restorative justice” all recognize the importance of healthy social ties in achieving concrete policy objectives. Policy-makers are also working with researchers, not to simply measure the amount of social capital in any given society, but to see how policy formation can be informed by the positive factors associated with it. One example is the government of Canada’s Policy Research Initiative Project, Social Capital as a Public Policy Tool, which was established in 2003 to investigate the value of social capital concepts for public policy. It has concluded that specific government programmes could be improved by ensuring that they support the development and maintenance of organic social networks in their client populations, including those at risk of social exclusion and those undergoing significant life transitions. Through this and similar initiatives, including the social capital research being done through the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development and the World Bank, legislators and

policy-makers are seeking to adjust old assumptions about the singular importance of economic wellbeing in light of changing values.

Untangling the paradox: Reengaging civil society

The drive in Western democracies to measure outcomes and to become more efficient has led to what Janice Gross Stein calls a “cult of efficiency.” The ideology of this cult ignores those things that truly matter to people, such things as love, family, friends and “comfortable slippers”. None of these things can be measured in terms of efficiency. The principles of social capital may help inform strategies to respond to and inform public demands for greater inclusion in the development of policy – inclusion which results in better policy and better services; again, variables that efficiency cannot measure. At the macro level, societies rich in social capital benefit through enhanced democratic functioning. There is also evidence that democratic governance contributes to well-being. The question of how government structures and policies influence, or are influenced by, the growth or decline of social capital is of particular interest to legislators looking for ways to improve the wellbeing of their constituents. These views on social capital have led me to two conclusions regarding governance. One is that despite the “democratic deficit”, civil society has managed to communicate its changing values, and we have begun to respond. Although traditional forms of political participation may be waning, civil society is still speaking and we are still listening. The first conclusion leads to the second: rather than assuming that a decline of interest in traditional forms of participation means a decline of interest in participating in civic life, we should check to see if other forms of political involvement have emerged or need to emerge. Are our traditional assumptions about what constitutes democratic wellbeing as misplaced


as our traditional assumptions about the sources of personal wellbeing? Some research indicates that may be the case. For example, Canada’s Crossing Boundaries National Council found that while officials have been focused on whether and how to reform our institutions, citizens are saying that when it comes to citizen engagement, “there [is] more opportunity to create change outside of our political institutions than in them.”

New institution

To that end, the government of British Columbia has, in addition to addressing institutional change, begun exploring new deliberative fora. In 2003 it established the Citizens’ Assembly on Electoral Reform, a constituent assembly process to review and make recommendations on electoral reform.

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In 2006, a new, publicly funded Conversation on Health was established to inform and involve citizens in making recommendations regarding health care. Perhaps by re-assessing what it means to engage citizens,we can set the stage for addressing some of the daunting and immobilizing challenges that we face. The four challenges of the extraordinary politician, as seen by Henry Fairlie, are: To reconcile the duplicity of interest and wills that exists in any society,

opinion, eventually producing the common ground that makes action possible, and To be the link between informed opinion and public opinion.

Recent findings linking wellbeing to government policy and strategies for inclusiveness can assist us to become better leaders and better legislators, even extraordinary politicians, and may ultimately result in happier citizens and better government.

To arouse and sustain public interest in politics, To act as a catalyst on public

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Rant Rant The Last Tango

For once I was going to do exactly what I was supposed to do. Not a big deal for most people. But for me an absolute requirement for survival. A flu shot that would prevent my childhood T.B. ravaged lungs from becoming infected and destroy what was left of them. Only my family, some close friends knew of my condition, so every year, sometime in the fall they got on my case and began hounding me to go see the doctor. This year was going to be different. I would go without the incessant nagging and so I did. The nurse who administered the shot warned me that this year the dosage might be different, so she asked me to sit in the waiting room to see if I would experience anything unusual, such as a sore arm or chest pain. I left after fifteen minutes. The rest of my day was filled with phone calls, meetings, sending and reading emails. I went home, had dinner with my wife and watched television. Around 1 A.M., I went to bed. My shoulder had started to swell from the flu shot and there were mild pains in my chest. Not so unusual for a guy with no lungs! I lay on my bed for some time, as the pain spread across my chest and sweat began to pour out. I went into the living room, hoping the pain would subside by sitting up. But it did not. As I sat on the chair I could sense things were getting worse. I yelled for my wife to call 911. I told her I was having a heart attack.

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She was instructed over the phone to have me lie down. Within moments the ambulance arrived and soon later a fire truck. I was writhing in pain. I went into convulsions and started vomiting. I puked all over myself, laying on the floor while the attendants and my wife tried to help with plastic bags and physical assistance. There were so many thoughts that went rushing through my mind in that brief period of time. The excruciating pain was intolerable, but I could not wish it away. I reminded myself of the many discussions I have had with others about courage in the face of death, and this was now my challenge. Life is about death, I thought, and this is about how I face my maker, and nothing else. It was about who I was, in this very special moment where I faced myself. I would do it with dignity, absent of the narcissistic theatrics I had so often witnessed. This was not all about me, but it was also about the people around me that I loved and cared about. And it was all OK because what would happen was out of my hands. I blacked out in that brief moment. The paramedics got me into the ambulance, the firefighters provided oxygen, and I was delivered to the emergency wing of the PEACE ARCH HOSPITAL. Immediately, the blood tests were started. Medicines were provided. In my mind I was trying to diagnose my ailment. Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe all it was was the flu shot. But soon enough it was confirmed, I had had a heart attack. My wife, who was at my side, left briefly to get a coffee. To her surprise, I was no longer there when she returned. The doctor in charge had decided that my life was at risk if


I were not immediately taken to Royal Columbian Hospital, I might expire. The ambulance, with sirens howling, rushed me to the next hospital. It was a bumpy ride, more like being in a bouncy jarring metal container than a vehicle transporting the weak and sick. I was accompanied by a most sweet and seriously professional young nurse (with no apparent sense of humor I could then detect), as well as the jovial and very friendly paramedics. We talked throughout the trip. We were all buds by the time we arrived. They were already waiting for us at the hospital. The comradery among the nurses and attendees was palpable. The sense of confidence was apparent with the demeanor and conversation among the crew. They were all people who wanted to be there, not just to do a job, but to eagerly demonstrate their competence. Going into the operating room was like entering a spaceship. Monitors, robotic arms and assorted technology were everywhere. The doctor in charge was like the captain of the starship Enterprise, totally in charge and admired and respected by his crew. Placing a stent into a clogged artery is an unbelievable trick to the uninitiated. It requires unimaginable skills and is done on a patient who is conscious. After initial preparation, the doctor made a small incision into my artery just above my wrist. A tiny wire was inserted into the artery and manipulated up my arm towards the heart. The wire served as a delivery mechanism for the balloon and stent. The balloon would inflate and expand the stent that would remain to assure complete flow of blood. The doctor of course discovered that there were at least three blockages, and one was located in a twisted artery difficult to access. As I lay on my back watching what was happening on the monitors, I could sense the anxiety in the room from the chatter, and then sudden quiet. As the wire passes the shoulder area, there is a small explosion of heat that encompasses the upper body. However in my case there was another unexpected problem. The nerves years ago on my leg had been cut in another operation, so I had never regained feeling in the area. Until then that is, but only when I was forced to cough as a result of the phlegm accumulating in my throat. It was painful and terrifying. It felt like my right leg was consumed by fire. I contained my coughing. The operation took almost an hour and forty-five minutes. The average, I was told, would have been around forty minutes. They had time to do only one stent out of the three planned. The rest would have to be treated medically or at a later date. As the medical team withdrew I was relieved that it was over for now. The jovial repartee among the nurses and attendants started up again. I had periodically complained that there was a certain dignity that I lost as I was being

A diagram of a stent transferred from the gurney to the beds and vice versa. It was really more my sense of humor about my situation than a complaint. Those wonderful bare bottom gowns left me exposed and on occasions my jewels got entangled with the vast number of wires and tubes like spaghetti that were attached to me. Moreover I could not pee in the presence of my female nurse. As I was standing with a jug in my hand unable to pee, she left and came back with what appeared to be a pair of white silk panties. “Put these on,” she ordered. I thought I detected a hint of a smile on her face. I wondered if she had taken them off herself or had brought along an extra pair. Hours later when we arrived at PEACE ARCH as we were getting out of the ambulance, my nurse who I thought lacked a sense of humour, smiled at me and said, “I can’t wait to get you back in the room to rip those panties off you!” By Hank Leis, author of The Leadership Phenomenon: A Multidimensional Model

11.


Imagine

that you had won the following PRIZE in a contest. Each morning your bank would deposit $86,400 in your private account for your use. However, this prize has rules: •

Everything that you didn't spend during each day would be taken away from you.

You may not simply transfer money into some other account.

You may only spend it.

Each morning upon awakening, the bank opens your account with another $86,400 for that day.

The bank can end the game without warning; at any time, it can say, "Game Over!" It can close the account, and you will not receive a new one.

What would you personally do? You would buy anything and everything you wanted right? Not only for yourself, but for all the people you love and care for. Even for people you don't know, because you couldn't possibly spend it all on yourself - right? You would try to spend every penny, and use it all, because you knew it would be replenished in the morning right? Actually, this game is real. Each of us is already a winner of this prize. We just can't seem to see it. The prize is time. •

Each morning we awaken to receive 86,400 seconds as a gift of life.

And when we go to sleep at night, any remaining time is Not credited to us.

What we haven't used up that day is forever lost.

Yesterday is forever gone.

Each morning the account is refilled, but the bank can dissolve your account at any time without warning.

So, what will you do with your 86,400 seconds? Those seconds are worth so much more than the same amount in dollars. Think about it and remember to enjoy every second of your life, because time races by so much quicker than you think. So take care of yourself, be happy, love deeply and enjoy life! Here's wishing you a wonderful and beautiful day. Start spending. Don’t complain about growing old, some people don’t get the privilege!




MARIO BASNER MEETS WIITH MAYOR OF LAS VEGAS CAROLYN GOODMAN “Archway”

illustration of the importance of art and culture for Las Vegas. Quoting our very own Hank Leis from the last issue of Metanoia Magazine, Carolyn Goodman described Mario Basner:

Mario Basner and Mayor of Las Vegas, Carolyn Goodman, November 2016

O

n November 14th, 2016, Mayor Carolyn Goodman spoke to the Board of the Downtown Arts District about Mario Basner and his work as an

“Basner is one of those unusual people who gets up one morning and completely reinvents himself. His is a magical story, for all those who are tired of how mundane life is – and really want to change it. As a former drummer in a band – one would think that Basner with all the adulation of his fans already had an exciting and rewarding life – but there was something else he desperately wanted to do – and that was to capture the beauty of our past edifices and structures as they faded into the art of dreaming as nature recaptures them in her embrace. To say that the art of Basner is unique is not to give enough

credit. All who cast their eyes on his magic are enraptured by its surreal aura. Photographs of his art do it no justice. Seeing is believing – and more than that, feeling the experience – being there and absorbing the ambiance. His is a truly remarkable art – an art that is spiritual and life changing. Basner will be showing his work at different venues commencing late this year. He welcomes you to visit.”

“Grandeur”


World Heritage Collection - Public Release January 2017

A Limited Edition photographic art collection, celebrating diversity, culture and humanity. The collection is dedicated to inspire by portraying extraordinary sites, accomplishments and ideas in past, present and future.

First Installment: History - Abandoned Tuberculosis Sanatorium / Germany

This highly evocative and critically acclaimed series portrays an extraordinary story of courage and dedication. It shows the best of humanity and inspires by providing a captivating exploration of history, dedication and values which have resulted in an exemplary display of humanitarian care provided to those in need. Built in 1898 as a treatment center for tuberculosis, the hospital complex was the largest of its kind and a world leader in research and treatment. It included 60 buildings over 200ha of park-like grounds amidst a scenic forest located 1hr south of Berlin. Some sections of the hospital still remain in operation as a neurological rehabilitation center and as a center for research and care for victims of Parkinson's disease. The majority of the complex has been abandoned since 1994. Mario’s on-site experience was touching, emotional and very personal. He saw beauty in the unlikeliest of places. He found grandeur; felt the extraordinary passion and dedication applied by the architects. The compassion for those in need and pride in craftsmanship represented in these structures directly relate to core values and their importance in life. The surroundings felt overwhelming and profoundly humbling. The goal of the final manifestation in a large printed piece is to share those captivating impressions and invite the viewer to an engaging journey into history and courage; to open a window and provide not just a glimpse, but rather an emotional, subconscious experience through depth and realism. Restricting the editing process to traditional darkroom techniques and locating the perfect substrate in Lumachrome paper has resulted in a previously unseen viewing experience that is traditional, yet innovative. The extraordinary dimension in the pieces draws the viewer deep into the scene. As of 2016, the site has been re-purposed and the buildings underwent a complete remodel. The images have historic relevance, capturing the final state of decay before all traces of history were painted over and disappeared forever.

Awards:

‘International Photography Awards’, Lucie Foundation / 1st Place, Architecture, 2016 ‘Prix De La Photografie’ Paris (PX3) / Bronze Award, Fine Art - Architecture, 2016 ‘Fine Art Photography Awards’ London, UK / Series Award, Architecture, 2016. ‘ND Awards’ / Bronze Star Award, Architecture, 2016 ‘ND Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Choices”, 2016 ‘ND Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Archway”, 2016 ‘ND Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Beauty Forgotten”, 2016 ‘Moscow International Foto Awards’ / Series Award, Interiors, 2016 ‘Moscow International Foto Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Grandeur”, Architecture, 2016 ‘Moscow International Foto Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Choices”, Architecture, 2016

About the Artist:

Award winning photographer Mario Basner grew up in Hamburg, Germany. After nurturing his artistic abilities in a 25 year music career while using photography as a creative outlet, he perfected his style and in recent years transitioned to the photography medium in order to fully express himself and his own vision. When Mario discovered a historic, abandoned site through an internet article, he had finally found his voice and his purpose, without realizing it at the time. Mario was immediately compelled to travel to Europe and photograph the site. Upon his arrival, it became apparent that he had found something very special, which led to a second visit 7 months later. After a 2 year testing & developing phase, the final images have now been manifested in stunning printed pieces which convey an unparalleled depth, dimension and sense of realism. This powerful, compelling image series constitutes the first installment of Mario’s upcoming “World Heritage Collection”. Mario currently resides in Las Vegas, NV with his wife. For detailed information and sample images, visit www.mariobasner.com/info

Mario Basner Photography LLC

702.513.4112

mario@mariobasner.com

www.mariobasner.com


PROJECT DESCRIPTION Mario Basner World Heritage Collection - A limited edition photographic art collection, celebrating diversity, culture and humanity. The collection is dedicated to inspire by portraying extraordinary sites, accomplishments and ideas in past, present and future. Debut / first installment: History - Abandoned Tuberculosis Sanatorium / Germany Built in 1898 as a treatment center for tuberculosis, the hospital complex was the largest of its kind. It included 60 buildings over 200ha of park-like grounds amidst a scenic forest located 1hr south of Berlin. The site was a self contained village that included a train station, butcher shop, bakery, living quarters and even an innovative cogeneration energy plant. During WWI & WWII it served as a military hospital and found itself Russian occupied due to its East German GDR location from 1945 - 1994. In 1990, Erich Honecker was sheltered by the Russian army at the Sanatorium after being forced to resign as head of the East German government. He later was tipped off about his planned arrest at the Sanatorium and fled to Moscow overnight to avoid prosecution for crimes against humanity. Following the Soviet withdrawal, some sections of the hospital remain in operation as a neurological rehabilitation center and as a center for research and care for victims of Parkinson's disease. The remainder of the complex has been abandoned since 1994. Despite the specific history of the location, Mario’s experience was touching, emotional and very personal. He saw beauty in the unlikeliest of places. He found grandeur; felt the extraordinary passion and dedication applied by the architects. He found sites that directly relate to core values and their importance in life. The surroundings felt overwhelming and profoundly humbling. The goal of the final manifestation in a large printed piece is to share those impressions and invite the viewer to an engaging journey into history; to open a window and provide not just a glimpse, but rather an emotional, subconscious experience through depth and realism. Restricting the editing process to traditional darkroom techniques and locating the perfect substrate in Lumachrome paper has resulted in a previously unseen viewing experience that is traditional, yet innovative. The extraordinary dimension in the pieces draws the viewer deep into the scene. As of 2016, the site has been re-purposed and the buildings underwent a complete remodel. The images have historic relevance, capturing the final state of decay before all traces of history were painted over and disappeared forever. The series is the only comprehensive image collection of its kind and fully sanctioned by the owner of the property for its historical documentary value. Awards: ‘International Photography Awards’, Lucie Foundation / 1st Place, Architecture, 2016 ‘Prix de la Photographie Paris’ / Bronze Award, Fine Art - Architecture, 2016 ‘Fine Art Photography Awards’ London, UK / Series Award, Architecture, 2016. ‘ND Awards’ / Bronze Star Award, Architecture, 2016 ‘ND Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Choices”, 2016 ‘ND Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Archway”, 2016 ‘ND Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Beauty Forgotten”, 2016 ‘Moscow International Foto Awards’ / Series Award, Interiors, 2016 ‘Moscow International Foto Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Grandeur”, Architecture, 2016 ‘Moscow International Foto Awards’ / Honorable Mention for “Choices”, Architecture, 2016 Exhibitions: “Na Kashirke Art Gallery”, Moscow / MIFA Winner Exhibition July 20 - August 07, 2016. “Franco Crimean Republican Scientific Library”, Simferopol City, Crimea. Dec.13, 2016 - Jan.10, 2017 / IPA / MIFA Publications: Luxury Las Vegas Magazine, United States - Cover & Feature Story, December 2016 Metanoia Magazine, Canada - Cover & Feature Story, November 2016 ‘Prix De La Photografie’ annual winners book - Paris, France. January 2017 ‘IPA’ annual winners book - United States. January 2017 Limited Edition - available sizes: 30 x 45 in / 76 x 114 cm 40 x 60 in / 101 x 152 cm 60 x 90 in / 152 x 228 cm


What A Ride

A book by Len Giles

Continued from previous issue

PART II

Life As A Recruit I returned to Edmonton in the first week of January 1960 for my induction into the Force on T h u r s d a y, January 14th. I signed the Oath of Allegiance, Oath of Office and Oath of Secrecy, then was sworn in as a third class constable and accepted The Canadian Mounted Police Force a monthly pay rate of $238.00 per month, plus food and lodging while in training. It was a significant drop for my pay in Halliburton, but I did not care. I signed on at the same time with Hanz Jenzen, from Wetaskiwin, Alberta. Late that afternoon, we boarded a train for Depot Division in Regina, Saskatchewan, the RCMP’s Western training establishment. We arrived in Regina on a typical January morning at about 3:30 a.m. We stepped off the train into the dark freezing cold to frost-caked windows, steam from the train, exhaust vapour from vehicles left running in the parking lot and heard the crunch of snow under foot. This frozen introduction to Regina made me wonder what we were getting into. We were picked up by a recruit duty driver and delivered to the Guard Room to report in, then were taken to our new home in barracks, known as “B” Block. It was dark as we entered the long, narrow barrack room with sixteen beds on each side, a few already occupied. By then it was near 5:00 in the morning. We quietly made our assigned beds in the dim light from outside and got some sleep. The first three days were relaxed and easy going with rounds of introductions on the arrival of each new member. We were among the first to arrive and as “H” Troop started to take shape we were, at that point, nothing more that a gaggle of individuals from across Canada. Once the full compliment of 32 male members- the first female members joined in September 1974- had arrived, things took on a more serious tone very quickly. The gaggle of individuals soon became a unit that had to function as

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one, akin to a “band of brothers.” Individuality was left by the wayside. Unfortunately, two members were discharged within two weeks. One was “back squaded” from a senior troop on medical grounds and was unable to recuperate to the required standard. The second received news that his girlfriend was pregnant. That, at that time, was fatal to a career in the RCMP. The troop was down to thirty members and we had ten months to go. We wondered who might be next to leave. On the first Saturday after we were formed as a troop, the traditional “shower party” was carried out by four senior troops. After lunch, they stormed our dormitory to throw each one of us into the cold showers. All members of the troop had to be present and each was expected to put up strong resistance to the inevitable shower. If one did not, harsh treatment and disrespect from virtually everyone could be anticipated. By standards of today, the shower party tradition would be considered a form of hazing and seen as unacceptable. In defence of the RCMP tradition, it was generally non-violent, although a few bruises, sore muscles and scrapes from resistance were incurred. No alcohol was involved nor was there any vindictive behavior. As recruits, we understood it was a tradition which was unofficially tolerated. The dormitory was left in shambles, beds overturned, drawers emptied and clothes thrown about the room. After the melee, the remainder of the afternoon was spent licking our wounds, bringing our bruised egos in check, sorting out belongings, remaking our beds and laughing about particular incidents. It was a bonding experience for the troop. With the shower party behind us, we settled into our training program. We learned very quickly that discipline and structure was required of us at all times. Kit was issued and we were advised not to take photographs to send home for the first several months, that rationale was sound. Some of us looked comical in our attempts to take on the serious aura of a member of the RCMP. High boots had that “out of the box” look and not that highly polished look of those troops which had been in training for several months. The wearing of spurs was also a new experience. We learned to side step down stairs in order to make room for the long shank spurs; otherwise stumbling was inevitable. Long shank spurs could be a nightmare. For example, if the right foot was turned outwards slightly, then the right spur was turned inwards waiting to inflict a major scar on the toe of the left boot as the spur clawed its way through the highly-polished surface as the left foot attempted to pass by for the next step. A repair to damage of that nature took hours to hide before next inspection. Our days started with the reveille trumpet call at 6 a.m. leaving just enough time to wash, shave and be formed up as a troop in the stables by 6:20 a.m. After roll call, followed by a brief inspection, we watered and groomed the horses, cleaning their stalls and the stables. From time to time, during these duties, blank rounds from a .303 rifle were discharged within the enclosed stable area to teach us how to control horses that were frightened. Stable duties had to be completed by 6:55 a.m. and we were then marched out by 7:00 a.m. Back in barracks, we quickly got out of our “fragrant” stable clothes, showered and changed into our high brown boots, breeches, brown serge jacket with shirt and tie. To have time for


breakfast we had to get to the Mess Hall by 7:30 A.M. Following breakfast, we formed up at 7:55 a.m. beside our barracks to be marched onto the parade square for the morning inspection at 8:00 a.m. By 8:25 a.m. our classes began, which lasted until 4:00 p.m. every day, Monday to Friday. Dinner was from 4:00 to 5:00 p.m., after which we did our cleaning, studying and any other activities that were required of us until lights out at 10:00 p.m. The demands of the day took their toll; most of us were dead to the world by 10:10 p.m. On Saturday mornings we had classes until noon and then if we were lucky, we could enjoy a midnight or 1:30 a.m. pass. That was typical for first-part training during the first six months. Then, equitation training was dropped and we entered second-part training which focused more on the academic aspects of service in the Force. Unity of the troop, to think and act as one was essential. Discipline towards one could affect the troop as a whole. Under those circumstances, the troop enforced its own discipline and the offending member was soon brought to line. Taking steel wool to highly polished boots was an effective measure that resulted in several hours to reconstruct the base for a shine. Some troops went to the extreme of “black balling” which was self-explanatory. That did not happen in our troop. Injuries did happen and the stables accounted for most. One member was kicked squarely in the genitals and ended up laying on his bed for several days with genitals the size of grapefruit. A second fell off his horse and broke his arm in two places. As he held up his arm it looked like a country road correctional line. Disregarding that, the riding instructor yelled, “Who told you to get off your horse?” After meekly replying, “No one Corporal,” the instructors only response was, “How about your horse, is it ok?” He then added, “Get to the post hospital.” Sympathy was not a factor in the training environment. Interestingly, there was a quotation by Winston Churchill in large print at one end of the riding academy which said, “The outside of a horse never hurt the inside of a man.” In this case, that philosophy, did not apply; the impact with the ground did, not the fall from the horse. So, in the eyes of the riding staff the horse had nothing to do with it. On the other hand, one could get hurt, or healed by horses. In my case, my left knee became very painful. It was difficult to participate in the required physical training and I had no idea what was happening. It reached a point where I was in pain most of the time and there was no indication that it was about to let up, despite the “home remedy” treatments I had tried. In my mind, to report it, I might run the risk of a medical discharge as medically unfit. Therefore, I suffered until one morning when I was cleaning stalls a horse kicked me with a glancing blow off my left knee. The blow was quite painful in itself; however shortly thereafter my knee was free of pain and it has never bothered me since. I have heard of remedies known as “snake oil” and “horse medicine” and I can now claim, with some authority, that horse medicine works. When we entered second part training, we were one of the senior troops and were issued with the coveted “red serge” the Force’s dress uniform. Putting on the red serge for the first time induced an overwhelming sense of pride. We all felt that with the hardships we had endured together we deserved the respect of the junior troops that followed. Their envy was evident as we

On Set in “The Canadians” with D. McLeod

had envied the senior troops ahead of us, pondering whether we would ever get our “passing out” ceremony. With that day in sight, it was set back when “H” Troop was called upon to act as “extras” in the movie The Canadians starring Robert Ryan. It was to be filmed in Fort Walsh, the Force’s horse-breeding farm in Southwestern Saskatchewan. We were to be there for seven to ten days filming in a setting that followed the massacre in June, 1876 of General Custer’s 7th Cavalry at the Little Bighorn when the Sioux Indians, being chased by the U.S. Cavalry, entered Canada. The North West Mounted Police were working to establish law and order in Western Canada and made contact with the Sioux to advise they would not encounter problems in Canada as long as the abided by the law. We were issued the appropriate uniforms, carbine rifles and bell tents to set up. Fires were forbidden as they felt this would mar the pristine country setting and therefore make filming more difficult. The late September nights were cold and pails of water left outside the tent froze over by morning. Ice water, for washing and shaving, was not enjoyable. No one had such a thing as an electric shaver and warm water to shave could only be obtained by sneaking into the bush at night and building a small fire. Hot water was pure ecstasy and the only time I have ever shaved secretly. We all endured the cold and the unkempt feeling after a week with no showers or bath. As for the horses, at night they were left in the open tied on a picket line, which is a long rope line with horses tied at intervals on opposite sides. There were three troops assigned to the movie, therefore we had to close to one hundred horses. We each had our turn at night duty on the line to care for and ensure they remained calm. Coyotes roamed the prairies at night and the horses were sensitive to every smell and sound. Also, with the light frost they became very frisky, making our early morning exercise rides more challenging as they were often difficult to control. Several sequences in the movie required us to ride in long columns of two, or half sections, which gave the impressions that the “cavalry” was on

19.


the march, We rode up and down hills, through creeks and the bush; all the time acting as though we were weary troopers on a long trek. In fact, historically, shortly after its inception, the Force completed a trek of approximately 800 hundred miles to establish police posts in Western Canada. As we rode each day, I rode half section with a member from another troop who really was into the scene and the moment. He constantly mumbled to himself, “It happened that way. Moving west.” By the end of the filming I was ready to shoot him if I heard that phrase one more time. Overall, it was a memorable experience supposedly living in an era eighty to eighty-five years earlier. At the end, we were thanked by the production staff for our cooperation and support. We did not expect, nor anticipate any form of payment for our stellar performance. Nevertheless, we each received a Cadbury’s Caramel Milk Chocolate bar. Did that mean we were paid professionals? Was that a taxable benefit? The thought was appreciated; but, the chocolate bars, whilst all devoured, became the joke of the day. Upon return to Regina, we prepared for the final two weeks before our “passing out” ceremony. The pressure was on to ensure that we did well in everything both personally and as a troop. Subsequently, Bill Lee and I found out that we had both been identified to be held back after training as potential swimming instructors. This would be a two-year assignment and neither of us wanted any part of it. To evade this we both made a concentrated effort to fail our swimming final exams. We knew that if we received only a bronze medal, it would not be considered adequate for an instructor. Ralph Canning, the corporal in charge of the swimming program was furious and called us in to tell us so. We faked the flu, which we claimed left us with no strength to do better. He knew damn well that we were lying. We both left his office trying to hold back laughter, while at the same time trying to appear ill. Swimming instructors, we were not to be. Gymnastics and precision foot drill was the major part of our “Passing Out” ceremony which was held in the Drill Hall. We practiced long and hard for that day as family, relatives and friends came to these events. On that day we performed very well and felt good about ourselves. Perhaps we were inspired by the “pep talk” by Drill Sergeant W.G. Stevens who advised us to use the washroom before the parade. His reason, “I don’t want anyone peeing on my parade square.” However, amongst the jubilation and pride in completing our training there was a degree of sadness as we all knew that each of us would be moving on to our assigned Divisions across the country. That meant many of us would never see each other again. I had been assigned to “E” Division, British Columbia and was to report to Chilliwack Sub-Division along with Andy Skinkle. I was very pleased as B.C. had been my first selection and one could never be sure of what to expect in the RCMP. In mid-November 1960, Andy and I drove to British Columbia, arriving at Chilliwack Sub-Division Headquarters late on a Sunday afternoon. Inspector S.E. Reybone, the Officer in Charge, was called and came down to meet us. There, the three of us in jeans and tee shirts, chatted for fifteen minutes or so before the Inspector said, “Skinkle, you go to Hope and Giles, you

20.

go on up to Princeton.” As recruits just out of training, we did not expect that informality. Nevertheless, excited, we left and were on the road again to our respective detachments. At Hope, approximately one hour later, we stopped to say good-bye to each other in front of the Hope Detachment where Andy would begin his career. It was now early evening with a light drizzle mixed with some fog, as I made my way back to the HopePrinceton Highway #3, for the ninety mile drive to Princeton. On my own, away from fellow troopmates for the first time in eleven months, I was overwhelmed with mixed emotions as I reflected on the many months of camaraderie which now blending with excitement and anticipation of my arrival at my first detachment, an hour or so away. It was surreal; I was now a full fledged member of the RCMP assigned to my first detachment. I now knew George’s feelings as he arrived in Banff, fresh from training, over three years earlier. Self-esteem and pride were just two of the adjectives to describe the feeling we had. Many members, before and after me, have or will experience this sense of achievement and honour of becoming a member of Canada’s national police force. For me, the personal gratification that set in was more profound as I drove the rainsoaked highway towards Princeton, than it had been upon graduation from the training establishment in Regina. It was a long journey from the day I made the initial decision to join the RCMP. Although my application was not accepted then, I faced that rejection, overcame it- and the personal humiliation-and I made it happen. Leonard N. Giles joined the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in 1960. When the Canadian Security Intelligence Service was proclaimed in 1984, he crossed over after twenty years in counter-espionage. In his career, Giles had assignments in the United States, Japan, Singapore, Thailand, India, Macau and the Philippines, retiring in 1991.

To be continued in the next issue of Metanoia

Leonard Giles


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Sydney Biddle Barrows

The Mayflower Madame By Hank Leis

Management Consultant, TV personality and best selling author, Sydney Biddle Barrows, gives business advice based on her experience as a Madame for an Elite Escort Agency. Being a descendant of the Mayflower Colonists, the newspapers dubbed her the Mayflower Madame. Despite much controversy, her autobiography, Mayflower Madame: The Secret Life of Sydney Biddle Barrows, found itself on Harvard’s School of Business required reading list and went on to become a movie starring Candice Bergen.

Y

ou have the status of being the progeny of the Mayflower families of William Brewster and John Howland, two of the pilgrim families that landed at Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1620. How conscious of this fact were you in your early life? As a child, what did this mean to you? I had no idea about my heritage until it was time for me to make my debut at the Mayflower Ball. That’s when I first heard of being a descendant of the Mayflower settlers. I didn’t know anything about it, it was never discussed. It was a total surprise to me when I found out at 18.

Education is an outside factor that contributes to our understanding of the world and give us some kind of status as being a player or to be excluded. What went into the choice of schools you attended, and what were the expectations of others who influenced you in the process? How did your choice influence you in later life? Well, for grade school you don’t really have much choice. For boarding school my mother and grandmother went to Farmington aka Miss Porter’s, and that’s where they wanted me to go. We went there and visited the school along with a few others, but I decided that there was just


no way I was going to go to that school. They had a uniform (which didn’t bother me) but they wore these horrible clunky shoes called Abercrombie’s, which were the most hideous things ever made. Additionally, Miss Porter’s was really strict. I had a boyfriend, and if your boyfriend came to visit you, you were only allowed to see him for an hour and it had to be in a specific sitting room, with a chaperone there. When you went into town, you weren’t allowed to go into the drugstore. God forbid you should find something that they didn’t want you to have. It was just way too strict for me. I ended up at Stoneleigh, because when I went up there and visited, everyone was just so friendly and it was just so much more relaxed. They did have uniforms as well, but they also had a big riding program and I liked to ride. As well, I also got accepted into Stoneleigh’s, unlike Miss Porter’s where I was on the wait list, which I was glad of because I didn’t want to go there anyway.

How did that school influence you? I guess you really chose the school. How did your choice influence you in later life? I got a great education. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, because my mother didn’t work, none of my friends’ mothers ever worked. As far as I was concerned the only jobs that were available to women was being a teacher, and I don’t particularly care for children; being a nurse, emptying bedpans and all that stuff didn’t work for me; or being a secretary, and I had to take remedial typing in high school because I was so bad. That was the extent of it. At Stoneleigh it never occurred to anybody, or it wasn’t important, that you have a career or a job, because it was just assumed you were going to get married. What passed for an career advisor’s advice was not about where can you go so that you can learn how to do what you want to do. It was, “What is the best school that we can get you in so that we can tell the parents of respective students, ‘Here’s the list of all the fabulous schools that our girls got into.’” It all had to do with improving the prestige of the school, not what was best for the individual. If you happened to have a drive for acting, or if you wanted to do art, they directed you towards the schools that had good programs for those subjects, but otherwise they just wanted to get you into a good school. I found a school called Elmira, in Elmira, New York. One of the first things I liked about it was that it, like Stoneleigh, was an all-girls school. I definitely wanted boys’ schools nearby, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t want to waste the time to get up every day and have to do my hair and makeup. The second best thing about it was you didn’t have to major in anything, you could have something called a general major. I didn’t know what the hell I wanted, so I enrolled in the general major program. I applied for early admission, got in,

but then at the end of January of my senior year I got kicked out of Stoneleigh, basically for having too much fun. No drugs, no drinking, nothing like that, it was for a lot of little things that piled up. I got kicked out and I was shipped up to Old Lyme, Connecticut to live with my father who himself had gotten kicked out of St. Paul’s, so he wasn’t about to pass judgment on me. Anyway, so I ended up graduating from Old Lyme High. It was one of the best experiences, I wished I’d gotten kicked out earlier, not because I didn’t love Stoneleigh, but I really loved Old Lyme. August rolled around and, of course, I’m expecting to go to Elmira. They send a letter and I get it and it says, “Send money now.” It was like $3000 back then for the tuition and the dorm, room and board, which like seems impossible these days, but was decent money back then. I gave the letter to my father, who looked at the letter, then he looked at me and he said, “You know, you’re a pretty girl. Some rich man will marry you. Why should I spend the money to send you to college?” Well, I didn’t know what to say, so I said, “Where am I supposed to meet this guy? I want to go to college.” Then he said something to the effect, “Well, there just isn’t enough money.” I said, “Well, I happen to know that Granny, his mother, after whom I’m named, has put aside enough money for all of us to go to boarding school and to college.” “Well,” he says, “You know ...,” I don’t remember exactly what he said but it was basically, “No, there’s not enough money for you to do that.” I said, “Let me call her and talk to her.” “Oh, no, no, it will just upset her,”he responded. Well, I find out decades later that what had really happened is he had embezzled the money or absconded with it. I guess you can’t say embezzled because he was the trustee of it. He had taken it to dry out the woman who he left my mother for who was a wicked alcoholic, and he spent so much money sending her to Silver Hillwhich is like the most expensive, ritzy, dry-out place on the East Coast- that he used up all the money. He couldn’t pay for my brother to go to college either. I think the excuse then was that there wouldn’t be any money for his other two kids. All of a sudden college wasn’t an option, unless I paid for it myself. He’d gotten me a summer job at a company he was running, I was a receptionist, working a switchboard where you had to pull the cables in and out. I was terrible at it, I don’t want to tell you how many people I accidentally disconnected. He was paying me fifty dollars a week, which wasn’t very much money. I knew I couldn’t do that for the rest of my life; I had to do something that would afford me the lifestyle that I wanted. I was walking through the mall one day not knowing what the hell I was going to do with my life, because I didn’t want to do anything in particular. I’m walking through the


represented little boutique women’s clothing stores all across the country. However, when the three women who ran the office hired a go-between for the staff and themselves, they hired a woman who told me that I had to place orders for certain items for my stores with vendors I’d never heard of. There’s a word in the garment business for the kind of stuff that she had wanted me to order, and that word is dreck, which means basically junk.

With the popularity of Barrow’s story, a TV movie, Mayflower Madame, was made in 1987 starting Candice Bergen as Barrows

mall looking at clothes, when I decided to do something that had to do with clothes. I ended up in New York City at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT), taking courses in Buying and Merchandising, which was their excuse for a business course. Back Then FIT was only two years, and it was basically a New York State community college. I went for the two years and then I wanted to go on to different schools, but none of my credits were transferable. Well, I couldn’t afford to start all over again. I had graduated first in my class, winning the BergdorfGoodman award, and won the trip to Europe with a Bergdorf-Goodman buyer Candice Bergen as the Mayflower Madam to go to couture showings in Paris in July. So when I got out of FIT, I went into buying clothing for retail chains. I was on the Executive Training Program at Abraham and Straus, which is the late Abraham and Straus, the crown and the jewel of the Federated Department Stores. Anyway, I worked there for several years and then I went to May Company Corporate, and then I ended up at a small residential buying office. The small residential buying office was great. We

24.

I went back to her after a couple days and I had to very diplomatically tell her that my stores just wouldn’t be able to sell dreck of this kind, of course not using that particular word. When I refused to sell my stores the items, I realized she must be receiving bribes for the sale of these products. There’s no other reason she would write the orders for this dreck. Then I thought, “Well, am I supposed to ask for a piece of the action, too?” That was a very fleeting thought. The main thought was, “I can’t do that to my stores. They trust me. If I sell them this stuff, send them this junk, I will lose their trust, and my reputation.” No one is brought up this way anymore, or almost no one is brought up this way, but I was brought up to be very honorable person, being honorable was the most important thing you could be or do. That would not have been an honorable thing to do. I just looked at her and I said, “I’m just really sorry, I can’t do it,” even though I knew she’d fire me which, of course she did. That’s how I ended up on the unemployment line. So popular was her book and movie, that Barrows appeared When I picked up along with Candice Bergen on Saturday Night Live to parody her story. my unemployment cheques, I met Linda who had to report at the same time as I did to pick up her cheque. The money we received from these cheques was enough for a person to have their own apartment and live by themself. It was manageable, but you couldn’t live large. One day I went to Linda’s apartment and when I walked in the door she was unpacking a brand-new stereo. I knew she wasn’t making any more money than I was, so I asked her how she could afford the stereo. After some hemming and hawing about not wanted to tell me she said, “I answer the phones for an escort service.” I said, “Oh, what’s an escort service?” I did not have a clue. She told me what it was and I was fascinated but absolutely horrified. “Ah, prostitutes, oh, my god. I know someone who knows prostitutes.” It was really, it was ... I look back on it and now I have to laugh. To make another long story short, she called me up one day and said, “Hey, Sydney,


one of the girls in the office is leaving. Would you be interested in a job?” It’s one thing to say, “Gee, if they ever have any openings let me know.” It’s another thing to have someone call you up and say, “Gee, there is one.” I was afraid of the police. I was afraid of the Mafia. I didn’t really want to get involved in something so sordid and seedy like that, but I sure could use the $50 a night off the books it was paying. I thought, “You know, it can’t hurt to go over there and talk to the guy.” Plus, I’m a very curious person, a very adventurous person, and this was an adventure. Just to make sure he did not misunderstand the type of job I was applying for, I pulled my hair back in a ponytail, didn’t wear any makeup, wore my glasses and a baggy sweater over a pair pants. I looked horrible, just so that he shouldn’t get the wrong idea. I go over there and I had a chance to meet some of the girls as they came in to pay him after a call, and they were every bit as nice as my girlfriend had told me they were, and clearly no one was holding a gun to anybody’s head or anything. They all wanted to know if they could go out again that night and he had been in business for 20 years. I thought to myself, “You know, the guy’s been in the business 20 years. Clients on the phone want to pay. Barrows success and personality have made her a welcomed guest on shows such as Biography, The Howard Stern Show, The Daily Show, The girls who he’s The Joan Rivers Show, Donahue and The View. sending out want to do it. Who am I hurting? Plus I’m just answering the phone,” so I said, “Okay.” That’s how I got introduced to the business.

Right, okay. You came up with such names as Cachet, Elan, and Finesse, and all of these things. They’re both humorous and brilliant. Can you talk a little bit about that and just the creativity that was involved in that business? Well, the main objective was to target upscale men as our main market. With working for Eddie at Hustler, he insisted that all of the girls dress like hot chicks and hot babes, because that was his and his friends’ tastes. But when some clients would call, I could tell just from talking to them that they would just be horrified if some hoochie mama came prancing through their door. These were guys that were like all my friends’ fathers, all my male relatives, all the guys at the beach clubs, the country clubs, the tennis clubs who for the most part, were not looking for hoochie mamas. So when Linda

and I decided to start our own agency, I said, “Let’s target these guys.” I mean, there was no one in that business. We needed a name that someone would look at and say, “Ah, okay, this sounds classy.” It was important that when they saw the name that they get had a feeling that it was something exclusive and upscale.

Then, in 1984 you got busted. At the time, how did you feel about it. What did you go through? Right. Linda had left the business a couple of years earlier, so at that time it was just me. At first it was, “Oh, shit, why did this have to happen to me.” No one else was getting busted, why me? If anything instead of the whole victim thing, I was really kind of pissed off about it. My first concern, of course, was for the girls. I had four of them, two call girls or ‘young ladies’ as I called them, and two phone girls. My first concern was getting them out of hoosegow. I had everything

“I ran the wrong kind of business, but I did it with integrity.” all planned. I already had a lawyer on retainer who knew that he might be called in the middle of the night, which he was. I had a plan B if this were to happen. That was my first concern. Then, my second concern was obviously not having to go to jail myself, and I had an attorney already for myself for that, too. That was really the main thing. It was mainly like, “How am I going to get out of this?” was really my concern.

You kind of did in a very interesting way. I guess at the time there was so much happening around you that you couldn’t really have a plan, but you’d already set one in motion. Eventually there wasn’t a huge price to pay at all. In fact, you kind of got rewarded for it. Well, I can see how someone who wasn’t me could look at it that way. That is not the way I thought about it at all. I was such a hot potato, no one would give me a job, and the money that I received for the book and the movie, all of it went to the lawyers. I didn’t see a dime of it. I still hadn’t paid them off. I had never had any intention of writing a book, or doing a movie. In fact, I was against it, but there was no other way to make the money to pay them so I had to do it. Then, when the book fortunately became number one, I started to be asked to speak, starting out with colleges. Eventually I got to business groups where afterwards some members of the audience would come up to me and ask if I did consulting. Well, I


should be embarrassed to admit this, I didn’t know what consulting was any more than I’d known what an escort service was. I did not have a clue. The first several times I just blew them off. “I am just too busy to do any consulting right now.”

too. I was very, very lucky, unlike a lot of these other girls who got busted, and they did drugs, and they did all kinds of sleazy things. There was nothing sleazy about the way I did it. That was one thing. I had a huge publicity. The press did me the most enormous favor.

After this happened several times I started thinking to myself, “You know, maybe I should look into this a little more,” because clearly they were going to pay me money to do it and I could really use the money. I started asking, “Well, what is it that you would like me to help you with?” After hearing basically the same thing from everybody I finally thought, “You know, I think maybe I can do that.” I accepted my first consulting assignment and it turned out that I was really good at it. That’s how I sort of got back into that business. I met Dan Kennedy. Actually he found me, and so I got involved in that whole world. That’s how I took my lemons and made them into lemonade.

Then, when it came time to write the book ... You’ll know about my co-author, the one who wrote Iacocca, and a gazillion other books. When you get half a million dollars ... We looked at each other and said, “You know, we’ve really got to put out, pardon the pun, for this kind of money.” We said, “Okay, we’re each gonna ask everyone we know what they want to read from this book.” What was fascinating was just about every single solitary person answered, “Tell us how it worked.” I’m not saying people didn’t want to hear call girl stories and stuff, because of course they did, but what people really wanted to know was how the business itself operated, because no one had ever written about that before.

You did a lot of shows. I’m not sure if you were on the Johnny Carson Show, but I saw you on a few others.

What that book completely, and totally, unintentionally ended up

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I think that was one of the few I was not on. You only would need the fingers on one hand to name the shows that I wasn’t on. I was on everything.

I remember watching you. I guess one of the reasons that I contacted you was because I just saw how dignified you were on these shows and how you held your own. Unlike a lot of other people you didn’t become a joke. It became that people actually wanted to emulate you. You have to remember something. There were two reasons for that. First of all, every time I was on the cover of the New York Post or the Daily News they sold a gazillion papers, which was a lot when they used to put out four of five editions a day. All they did was change the cover and maybe tweak the stories inside, and the same people would buy three, four, five copies a day. They also realized that the reason that it was selling was because of the sort of “blue blood” connection. What they did is they really played that up. They did not do anything sleazy. They made it their business to make this that kind of a story, like “Blue Blood does this wild and crazy thing.” Most of the other papers all around the country, and actually around the world, because they basically got their information from the New York papers, and so most of them wrote about it that way,

“I was naughty. I wasn’t bad. Bad is hurting people, doing evil. Naughty is not hurting anyone. Naughty is being amusing.” being was a business book, and totally unbeknownst to us. Business schools, including Harvard, had it on their class reading lists. I think Fortune Magazine named it one of the 10 Best Business Books of the year. It was considered by colleges as a business book. Actually, if you go back and read it, it was a business book with some great stories in it. I just really lucked out all the way. There was never anything sleazy introduced into it, unless an interviewer had an agenda, which some of them did. A lot of them were very judgmental, especially the women, but other than that there was really no negative publicity. I remember one story in New York Magazine. He interviewed me and my PR people were there, and he wrote this awful story, and my PR person called him up and said, “Where did you get this from? I was sitting there. This is not what she said. This is not how she came across.” You know what the guy said, “I’m just so sick of people always writing really nice things about her.”


Well, that’s kind of an amazing thing really, when you think about it, at least when I thought about it, I thought the fact that you were able to hold your head high afterwards and handle it, you set an example for a lot of people, particularly in business, who run into difficult problems, and then their answer is to run away from it and hide their head in shame and all the rest of it. Oh, yeah, and that’s so silly, like covering your head when you do the perp walk and stuff. You know what, I did it. There was no getting around it. I did do it and to act like I was ashamed, and embarrassed, and I was trying to hide that just did not send a good message, plus this is not who I am. I wasn’t proud of it, but I wasn’t going to crawl under the bed and do the, “Oh, my god, I’m such a victim,” kind of thing either. My attitude was, “If everyone thinks this is a big deal, if everyone thinks this is great, and if everyone’s inviting me on these TV shows because they think I’m so fabulous and what I did was so interesting, well then, “God damn it, that’s how I’m going to look at it, too.”

That’s the great thing about it, because I’ve used your story, what I knew of it anyway, as an example of how to conduct oneself under pressure. The stress and strain of these kinds of things seem to overwhelm most people. Don’t forget, most people have done something wrong. I know a lot of people think what I did was wrong, but compare that to people who manipulated stocks, stole money, or did horrible things like physically hurt other people. What I did didn’t hurt anybody, so what do I have to be ashamed of? There were no drugs. If there had been drugs or under-aged girls or something like that, yes, I would have had something to be ashamed of. There wasn’t any of that. I ran that business so clean and in the girls’ favor. I had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and I think one of the reasons you see all these people not acting the way I did is because they have something to be ashamed of, because they did something that hurt people. They deserve to be ashamed.

Well, the other part of the equation, really, is that there are people who just want to shame you. There are people who take the point of view that you ought to be shamed, and standing up for them. Well, yeah. You know what, screw them. It was upsetting at first because, of course, you always want everyone to like you. Here there were these people who didn’t like me and they didn’t even know me.

They just decided they didn’t. People mistake a lot of times what you did with who you are. Because I did what I did they figured there’s a certain kind of person who would do that and that’s like a horrible person. It was very upsetting to me. I have to say it look me a while to get over realizing that there are just going to be people out there who just plain ol’ don’t like me. The thing that really sent that home was when I was at a party, Leona Helmsley’s, was it Leona Helmsley? Oh, it was Cindy Adams’ party. Leona Helmsley was there. Cindy and Joey were good friends with Imelda and Ferdinand Marcos. He was dead already, but she was there. I just thought that what they did, just like the Duvalier’s in Haiti, what they did was so wrong, raping and ruining an entire country. To me, it doesn’t get too much more wrong than that. However, everyone wanted to introduce us to each other, they wanted pictures. I thought, “I do not want to be associated with that woman. I cannot shake her hand. I’m so repulsed by her I cannot shake her hand. I don’t want a picture taken with her. I don’t want to meet her. I don’t want to have to talk to her.” That’s when I realized there were people who felt like that about me. Look at all those other people who were dying to shake her hand and to talk to her because of who she was. They didn’t think she was reprehensible at all, but I did. That’s when I realized there’s always going to be people who, for whatever reason, don’t like you, just like I didn’t like Imelda Marcos, but there are plenty of other people who did. I had the same thing going for me. There were plenty of people who liked me, but there were some people who looked at me like I looked at Imelda Marcos and, you know what, that’s just the way it is. If I could do anything in the whole world, blue sky, I’d like to get married to a really wonderful, fabulous man who is just about to, or is waiting to, retire till he finds the woman of his dreams and do nothing. That’s what I want. I want to travel. I want to wake up in the morning and read four papers if I feel like it. I want to have a wonderful man that we go and we do things together. We have friends that we get together with. That’s what I want for my life. I’ve had a really hard life. It has not been pleasant, and I’m sick of it. I’m just sick of the constant struggle. I was married once and I loved being a partner. I’m a great partner, and I really want to do it again. If I was younger, obviously, I wouldn’t have this whole, “I don’t want to work again thing in mind,” but the fact of the matter is someone I’m going to end up with is going to be retirement age, and I certainly am, and that’s where I’m at.


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The Dan Walker Chronicles

Mt. Changbai to Qiqihar Our pickup was at 6 AM to catch the train to Qiqihar. The hotel made box lunches, as they were not yet open for breakfast. We said a fond farewell to Hank. Although his English was not great and communications were difficult he certainly more than made up for it with enthusiasm, friendliness and in ensuring we saw some of the best of this marvelous city. The train compartment was three bunks high, with the center one folded so we could sit on the lower bunk. Our compartment mates were four Chinese men. The bunks were hard, so everyone got up and walked around now and then to stretch and relieve numb bums. The countryside is flat with a lot of heavy industry and a huge oil field with loads of pumps and a couple of refineries. There is lots of construction of expressways, elevated high speed train tracks, and buildings. I can't imagine what the highways budget must be for China! The train was slower than the previous one - it took about three hours to arrive at Qiqihar where we were met by a guide who understood no English, although she could speak a little. She is a university teacher of travel (which I take to mean tourism) but did not know the English words tourist or tourism, and we couldn't explain. Qiquihar, a city of 2.4 million, has some wide streets and boulevards, but is not particularly attractive. The rain didn't improve the appearance. Our guide arranged a reasonable lunch where only the two of us were seated in a private dining room at a table for 10

with a place setting on opposite sides of the table! The driver, who is very sharp and helps the guide regularly, then took us to the 21 million hectare (51,870,000 acre) Zhalong Nature Reserve. An electric cart took us to an electric boat for a trip through tall grass and reed lined channels. There are 269 species of birds using this reserve, but the most impressive is the huge, endangered red crowned crane. We witnessed a feeding of these stately birds, so got some close up photos. The birds appear to be up to 5 feet (1 ½ meters) tall. They have a breeding program, and a training program that teaches the young to fly and to fend for themselves in the wild. The hotel is located in an area of car repair shops with no good restaurants, so eating in the hotel was the only option. The hotel manager, who spoke reasonable English, took us under his wing and a really good dinner was produced. We finally had air conditioning that worked so I got some much needed sleep. Tomorrow we fly for Beijing.

Dan Walker is an adventurer, a businessman, and raconteur. He has visited every country in the world. His trusty Rolls Royce has taken him across many continents. He includes his grandchildren in some of his travels allowing them to select the destination. Originally, he hails from Victoria, British Columbia, but now resides in Costa Rica. We are pleased to present the Dan Walker Chronicles.


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The Institute is pleased to publish this exploratory approach to the analysis of Canadian educational policy. Mr. Wadsworth brings to his subject the point of view of an observer outside the organized structure of education. From this vantage point he examines policy in education from three distinct but overlapping viewpoints, which he describes as the rational, the pragmatic, and the research approaches. Such an analysis is of particular consequence today. Education costs have reached the point where the taxpaying public is questioning the entire educational structure, and at the same time, many within the structure have expressed profound discontent. The need for fresh analyses of our schools and school systems is paramount. Mr. Wadsworth’s study is being published in order that his ideas and recommendations may receive attention. R. W. B. Jackson, Director. The Ontario Institute for Studies in Education Toronto, June 1971

Continued from previous issue A Candidate Set of Objectives? Although a student of Lindblom would not be surprised at the difficulty of attempting to derive a complete set of operational goals with relative weights (allocated to the different degrees to which each may be achieved) for Canadian education or the dismal failure to do so exhibited in this note to this stage, the attempt was not completely futile and unproductive. In spite of the naive and superficial nature of the analysis, the attempt at objective derivation has been worthwhile in that it enables a classification of output according to the intractable areas and the uncertainties in Canadian education, and a formulation of the

implied objectives of the ongoing activities within Canadian education. It is felt that such a classification will be a source of material for the identification of the substantive issues of contemporary Canadian education, which will provide a perspective for suggestions for further analysis and for the assessment of pragmatic approaches to current problems.

of control. Not to preclude many minor areas, the major areas, in which control may be difficult, have been identified as the politics of education, professionalism in education, and the indoctrination associated with education. These three areas, of course, determine crucially the political possibility of any innovation or change in Canadian education.

It is cautioned that the classification below should be accepted only in principle, since the verification of the exact letter will require extensive analysis.

The quest for the control over sectors of the educational process, with the political attractiveness of its large size, will inhibit any transfer from regional to central control and any other change

Intractabilities. The use of the word “intractable” here implies difficulty

35.


that would mean perturbation of the existing power structure. The entrenchment of professionalism within educational personnel will curtail the introduction of significant changes within the area of teaching techniques, and especially will hinder the widespread introduction of technological assistance aimed at making the educational process less labor-intensive. The conception of the educational process as merely the pure dissemination of the existing stock of knowledge is somewhat naive, since some form of indoctrination is bound to be a concomitant. This indoctrination, which, in its mildest forms, may lead to the cultivation of unreasonable expectations that the outside world cannot satisfy, is clearly difficult to control since it may be a function of individual teaching personnel within the educational system. Uncertainties. In this context, the use of the word “uncertainty” implies a condition brought about by a lack of knowledge, and unfortunately characterizes most of the contemporary educational process. The significant areas of ignorance are: lack of knowledge of the effect of education (economic, social, political, etc.); lack of knowledge of what contribution the non-formal aspects of education make to the productivity of an “educated” or a “non-educated” individual; lack of knowledge of what contribution technology can make to the productivity of the educational process by rendering it less labor-intensive; and lack of knowledge of what effect selection would have not only on the productivity of the educational process but also on the subsequent utilization of the “educated” products in society and the economy. The derivation of any objectives in the field of education is heavily dependent upon the removal of these uncertain ties, which call only be brought about by research efforts. Although there abounds a plethora of anecdotal material and emotional assumptions, very little empirical evidence exists

36.

that would delineate the effect (economic, social, political, etc.) of the formal educational process (other than the barrier effect) against the very noisy background of the non-formal aspects of education, the family and the environment, the innate ability and motivation of individuals, etc. Turning to the non-formal aspects of education: • Should the educational process concentrate on turning out a product who is educable rather than educated? • Should the educational process turn out a specialist or a generalist? • Should the educational process concentrate on ranking its output according to innate ability and motivation? • Should the educational system be more closely linked with the real world so that a system of early apprenticeship can be established? Answers to these questions can only be attempted if the contribution that the non-formal aspects of education play in an individual’s actual productivity in the socioeconomic system is known. Learning by doing and use of leisure time in reading, etc., are powerful contributors to an individual’s productivity on the job; they not only increase his depth of knowledge but render him more flexible to accept a changing environment. The exciting contribution that technology could make to the productivity of education is in relieving the existing financial constraints of the formal educational process. Indubitably, the selection of individuals according to innate ability and motivation implies a drift towards a meritocracy, but offers the hope of rendering the educational process more efficient by the removal of egalitarian concepts from its practice. An efficacious selective mechanism would deny the concept of the educational process as a means for dispensing equality, since it is considered that there are much more desirable overt methods for redistribution of income. The Implied Objective. Since the superficial analysis at this stage has

served to emphasize the two salient issues - that very little is known about the process of education, and that it has suddenly been practiced on an explosively widespread scale in response to demand - by a process of default, contemporary Canadian education can only be considered as a publicly subsidized consumer good. It is not too extreme to consider the educational system as analogous to the private automobile transportation system. The desire and consequent demand for automobile ownership (initially irrational as a mere expression of personal affluence but subsequently rationalized by the fact that it has diluted urban living and created its own need) amplified the lobby for the building of roads - which have been supplied at public expense. Hence, the personal automobile transportation system is a consumer good that is publicly subsidized, and can be compared to the contemporary educational system. Therefore, the implied objective of the Canadian educational process is to satisfy the demand for the consumer good of education by public subsidy. It is important to appreciate that this implied objective (no matter how distasteful) can be challenged only by resolving the intractabilities of the type that have been identified, or by removing the uncertainties of the type that have been identified. Moreover, the acceptance of this implied objective raises the following concerns (among very many): • Should the mechanisms of the demand be questioned? • ls only the knowledge of the magnitude of the educational demand important? • Should the demand for education be treated any differently from the demand for roads created by the personal automobile? The above and other concerns will be considered in the discussion relating to the pragmatic approach to policy analysis in chapter 3. Whither The Rational Approach? Once the objectives of any endeavor


have been established, the following procedures would ordinarily apply: • Establish a complete inventory of other values and of resources, with relative weights. • Prepare a complete set of the alternative policies open to the policy maker. • Prepare a complete set of valid predictions of the costs and benefits of each alternative, including the extent to which each will achieve the various operational goals, consume resources, and realize or impair other values. • Calculate the expectations for each alternative by multiplying the probability of each benefit and cost for each alternative by the utility of each, and calculating the net benefit (or costs) in utility terms. • Compare the net expectations and identify the alternative (or alternatives, if two or more are equally good) with the highest net expectation. Unfortunately, the failure to establish the objectives of education effectively precludes further development of a purely rational approach to policy analysis.

hope of resolving the intractabilities of educational control and removing the uncertainties of the educational effects. Expediency demands a more pragmatic approach to policy analysis, which will not compromise eventual attempts to resolve the intractabilities or remove the uncertainties but will at least give the policy maker some alternative policies for consideration. Naturally, such constraints dictate some use of the incremental change model of Lindblom. The use of such a concept implies a passive and descriptive stance for the policy analyst and precludes any active or normative approach. Reaction to the above conditions generates three simple approaches for the production of alternative policies: a do-nothing approach; a preservationof-the-status-quo approach; and a making-of-assumptions-regarding-themacro-effects-of-education-approach. These three approaches are discussed below, together with the implications of any subsequently derived policy if implemented.

Do Nothing Chapter 3 THE PRAGMATIC APPROACH TO POLICY ANALYSIS IN CANADIAN EDUCATION Although it can be of academic interest to the policy analyst to demonstrate the problem-revealing rather than the problem-solving nature of a purely rational approach to policy analysis, it is of doubtful value to present the policy maker with its findings: • We do not know how to control the education system. • We do not know what effect the education system has. • We are presently treating education as a consumer good supported by public subsidy. It will not enhance the status of rational policy analysts to plead with the policy makers for time and resources in order to carry out extensive research and further analysis in the

On the one hand, it is possible to regard the do-nothing approach as the result of pushing Lindblom’s incremental change model to the ultimate, where no overt active interference by government takes place (except reaction to extreme pressures from organized lobbies); on the other hand, it may be considered to be nothing more than a naive reliance upon some

“invisible hand” mechanism. Since this is precisely how the education system has been treated to date, to suggest that the government adopt a laissez-faire policy based upon a donothing approach is indeed an implicit recognition that some “invisible hand” mechanism does exist within the educational system. Therefore, the justification for the do-nothing approach is the incredible complexity of the education system and our complete lack of knowledge of how to control it and of what effect it has. Hence, it is necessary to avoid any serious perturbations of the educational system by overt government action, since not only can its influence on the educational system not be anticipated, but also we cannot appreciate whether this influence would be good or bad . There are probably two mechanisms that have allowed the do-nothing approach to work to date. While it is necessary to avoid becoming too enamored of the beauty of a pricing mechanism in the educational system, there is some evidence that a semblance of one exists so far as a market for the taught product is concerned. The other mechanism (which is postulated, since no convincing reading of its functioning has come to hand) is that every important interest or value in the educational system has its watchdog in the form of a lobby, which can become effectively organized should some alleged disequilibrium occur among all of the pressure groups within the educational system. To be continued in the next issue of Metanoia

Left: The late Dr. Jack Wadsworth Centre: Julie Yap Wadsworth with daughter, Jackie Wadsworth Right: Hank Leis and daughter of the late Jack Wadsworth, Jackie Wadsworth Jackie Wadsworth was born on Jack Wadsworth’s birthday, 70 days after Jack Wadsworth’s passing.

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Jakarta, Indonesia.

“A Gecko, an Allegory, and a Rat” “I can gauge student writing simply on penmanship”

By Rod Lamirand It’s a beautiful morning. I sit in my pressed trousers and dress shirt in the first-floor staff room of a large English-language national school. Including myself, the high school English department consists of two Australians, two Canadians, a Brit, and one Dutch woman. I don’t know it at the time, but my hire is due in part to the fact that I am not American. Across the globe a number of schools want the English language, the Western, Caucasian look but prefer not to have actual Americans. As the Call to Prayer concludes on the warm green streets surrounding the school we prepare for our classes. I am in a particularly good mood having reconciled, the previous evening, my misgivings of our new jobs in Indonesia. It isn’t the country. The country is amazing; the people kind; the food and culture intriguing. If you choose the expat life and can’t see the wonder of Indonesia, you are perhaps new to overseas work or just a glass-half-empty traveler. No, the misgivings are due to the school’s archaic educational philosophies, its brilliantly evolved cultural contradictions, its inefficiencies papered over with inanities, and other such macro-structural, organizational failures.

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The night before we two had sat across from each other, husband and wife, teachers together in a strange land,

enjoying the gecko on the wall, while prepared with flipflops for cockroaches on the floor, and once again feeling, as overseas teachers do, that we had perhaps drank the ‘Drink Me’ bottle too quickly and now could not escape the little door. “But as we’ve said,” my wife had continued, “we’re here for the experience.” “Yes, we are,” I’d conceded. “And if we’d wanted what we had, we wouldn’t have left, would we?” “No, we wouldn’t have,” I’d agreed. “So?” she queried. I’d pushed it off, given in, “So, we take the good, ignore the bad, and live large!” “Yes. That’s right.” Then checked again, “Right?” “Absolutely.” “And we’ve got the expats. They are our Jakarta family for now.” “We do,” I’d agreed.


It had been a pleasant evening. The maid prepared Nasi goreng, a Malay/Indonesian fried rice we enjoy, we’d eaten by candle light on the small patio in our backyard beneath banana trees which sometimes launched grasshoppers the size of gherkins alarming and pleasing us at the same time. So, sitting here I am warmly disposed to my expatriate brethren and sister, my surrogate family of new friends, when a conversation occurs around me which becomes the first domino to fall in our eventual decision to leave those beautiful islands - and also the spark for this short composition.

Unpopular in the Staffroom

“The twenty-first,” NearEnough says. “Right.” The voices volleyball overtop Unpopular who feigns absorption in his laptop. ThenAgain comes over. She is looking for something. “Anyone seen my stapler?” “No,” TooMuch replies. “What’s that?” NearEnough asks. She is going through the desk of absent JollyGood but comes up empty handed.

In a land of error and excuse there lived a teacher who was less dysfunctional than the next. His name was Unpopular.

“Have my stapler, by any chance?” she eventually asks NearEnough.

Beside Unpopular sat NearEnough; on his other side sat TooMuch. Neither NearEnough nor TooMuch managed very well but both got along just fine.

“Is that a question?” he says with a smile. She smiles obligingly until he says, “Let me look.”

One day when Unpopular was valiantly attempting to ignore the unending series of events and evidences of incompetence and ineptitude, a voice came into his head. “What if it isn’t them,” it surmised. “What if it is you?” The idea niggled and nagged all the misfit day and into the befungled night until he could ignore it no longer. “Nothing is perfect,” said the voice. “No-one is always getting things right,” it continued. “In fact, everything is always somewhat off if you think about it. This is because Life is Hard and because We Can Only Do What We Can Do.” That seemed reasonable. So the very next day Unpopular arrived at work with a new philosophy, “I will see no error or weakness in any single thing. I will not criticize my fellow humans. I will suspend judgment, wait to see how it all turns out, find humour in events, wear an amused smile, raise a knowing eyebrow, slap backs, understand, accept, abide.” And he did. For a while. Then one morning as he sits trying very hard not to think about the intermittent Wi-Fi and the overdue morning bulletin with its perennial misspellings and various bulletin announcements for upcoming events which are actually two days in the past, a conversation begins between TooMuch and NearEnough. “It’s Wednesday,” TooMuch states. “Monday,” NearEnough corrects. “The twentieth,” TooMuch continues.

“I’ve been going through JollyGood’s drawers…” “You won’t find anything there,” TooMuch says. Unpopular looks up at the innuendo. TooMuch isn’t smiling, neither are the others. TooMuch is drinking from a bottle of water giving his wall calendar a penetrating gaze. NearEnough has found some old papers in his drawer and is reading them with a puzzled expression. ThenAgain is circling nearby. Unpopular takes up his stapler, “Here you go.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” JollyGood enters. NearEnough address JollyGood, “Sir. Your erudition is required.” JollyGood comes over, papers in hand, “At your service.” “Listen to this, and I quote, ‘too, too much for the average persons to stand in the cold night’. What do you think?” “Complete trash. What is it?” “Year Ten poetry,” NearEnough says. “That’s just what I thought.” JollyGood puts out his hand. “Let me see, then.” He studies the poem. NearEnough waits. TooMuch watches. Unpopular can’t help but look. ThenAgain is stapling at her desk, a small smile on her face.

39.


“Well actually,”

NearEnough asks.

JollyGood says looking over the top of his glasses, a wisdom-tingedbonhomie-smile peaking out. “It’s perhaps not the very worst of it.” NearEnough waits for the jest that doesn’t arrive, then joins in, “By a long shot, it certainly is not. Humph, I’ve seen poetry that could rip your heart out, it’s so bad.” Unpopular does an imaginary rolling of his eyes, trying to return his attention to the laptop. “I would have to say, as Department Chair, the repetition of the word ‘too’ is almost too much but not quite.” “Two toos work in very few situations,” NearEnough agrees. “I don’t know about that,” TooMuch interjects. “Strictly speaking there is no limit to the possible repetition in a poem. For example, E.E. Cummings, once wrote a poem which simply repeated the words ‘elephant grass’ over and over again. It was made into a film by Andy Warhol which lasted seven hours.” “I saw it in Helsinki,” ThenAgain throws in between banging the stapler and tossing the student essays into piles she’s organized by their most likely grades. Unpopular would like to point out the extended family of errors but knows they will close ranks against him if he does. “But this,” JollyGood says holding the poem. “This is more than not-the-worst of Year Ten in my humble opinion. This is, in the top twenty-five percent of ‘better than average’, if you ignore the obvious.”

40.

“Yes, the obvious, but sir I think you are being coy. What is the obvious?”

“There is no title! Did you ask the students to use no title?” “I certainly did not. In fact, I asked them to pay attention to the title. Half of a poem is the title, and the motif, of course.” NearEnough says. “More than half,” ThenAgain throws over, “depending on the genre and year level. I taught Year Five once, the title was the whole poem.” From Unpopular’s other side TooMuch adds his two-bits, “The best titles are the ones that sneak up on you and slap you in the face like a drunk grandma, I think.” “What do you think, Unpopular?” NearEnough says. Unpopular knows there is no winning. The best he can do is engage lightly. “Perhaps, ‘persons’ should read ‘person’.” “Ah,” JollyGood says handing the poem to NearEnough, “…read out the line again.” “The line or the whole poem?” “Just the line, we’ve all been around long enough to be able to judge a student’s work from one line.” “I can gauge student writing simply from penmanship,” is heard. “Okay,” NearEnough clears his throat, “it reads: ‘too, too much for the average persons to stand in the cold night’.” Then he adds, “It’s not the worst I find upon hearing it aloud. It’s always best to read poetry aloud, even potential drivel.” JollyGood begins, “I could agree with Unpopular as a grammarian - however, I quite like the turn of phrase and the cacophony it creates by the juxtaposition of a classic syntax and phrasing, a la the Bard’s ‘Oh, this too, too, sullied flesh’, placed beside the bureaucratic and modern ‘average persons’ which sounds institutional to my ears. Actually, now I see, it’s even better

than the top twenty-five percent. I might, on a particularly good day if one ever arrives, award it something like top ten percent of ‘decent to better than average’.” ThenAgain whistles from her desk at the high mark. NearEnough says, “Done. Scored. Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” JollyGood tosses off turning back to his desk. NearEnough sucks air through his teeth, humming an incoherent tune and offering a smile to the clock above the door. ThenAgain scores all the papers in the first pile between four and six without reading them. “I’m pretty sure plagiarized anyway,”

they’re

all

TooMuch says but no one is listening. The petite-theatre dissipates. Irony collapses in a corner then crawls beneath a desk. Unpopular thinks about Winston Smith with the cage strapped to his head, an energetic rat clawing at the small sliding door inches from his face. ******* We gave notice soon after. It was such a shame. And the banana trees were just coming in. Rod Lamirand is a Canadian,high school English teacher who has worked in international schools in the Middle East, Eastern Europe, and S.E. Asia. He is author of The Eyes of the Arab Boy, an adventure novel about overseas teachers who run afoul of Sharia Law. His Life Priorities List is as follows: wife, children, beer, world peace, literature. www.rodlamirand.com


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MISSIVES FROM DONALD J BOUDREAUX Dear Mr. Horvath: Thanks for your e-mail and your challenge for me to list my own “Big 6 modern ideas in economics” that deserve more of economists’ attention today. You don’t specify what you mean by modern, so I’ll interpret you to mean ‘within the past 75 years.’ Here’s my list, in increasing order of importance. (I cheat by having two related ideas tied for #6 and two related ideas tied for #2.)

 6. (i) Milton Friedman’s and Anna Schwartz’s demonstration that the Federal Reserve’s incompetence led to a much greater than necessary contraction of the economy in the early 1930s. (See pages 299-419 of their 1963 book, Monetary History of the United States: 1867-1960.) 6.(ii) Robert Higgs’s theory of regime uncertainty. (See Higgs’s 1997 article “Regime Uncertainty: Why the Great Depression Lasted So Long and Why Prosperity Resumed After the War.”)

 5. Armen Alchian’s proposed reformulation of production and cost theory - a reformulation that would be far more explanatory and much less misleading than are the conventional cost curves still taught today. (See his 1959 article “Costs and Outputs.”)
 
4. James Buchanan’s, Gordon Tullock’s, Mancur Olson’s, Anthony Downs’s (and others) public-choice analysis. Despite Jim winning the 1986 Nobel Prize, to this day it is considered to be scientifically acceptable for economists to treat government officials as not responding to incentives in the same way that individuals in the private sector are known to respond to incentives. (See Buchanan’s and Tullock’s 1962 book, The Calculus of Consent; Olson’s 1965 book, The Logic of Collective Action; and Downs’s 1957 book, An Economic Theory of Democracy.)
 
3. Ronald Coase’s explanation that externalities necessarily are caused by the actions both of the party who is identified as ‘causing’ the harm and of the party who suffers the harm. (See his 1960 article “The Problem of Social Cost.”)

coordinate his or her choices with the actions and choices of others. (See his 1945 article “The Use of Knowledge in Society.”)

 Sincerely, Donald J. Boudreaux Professor of Economics and Martha and Nelson Getchell Chair for the Study of Free Market Capitalism at the Mercatus Center George Mason University Fairfax, VA 22030

2.(i) Julian Simon’s demonstration that human creativity is the ultimate resource. (See his 1996 book, The Ultimate Resource 2.) (ii) Deirdre McCloskey’s explanation that modern prosperity is largely the result of market-tested innovation unleashed by greater dignity accorded to bourgeois pursuits. (See her 2010 volume, Bourgeois Dignity.)

1. F. A. Hayek’s 1945 explanation that market prices convey the information necessary for each of multitudes of economic actors to

43.


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