Vox clamantis in deserto
Stephen Chen: How an ancient Chinese philosopher speaks to Americans’ college-rankings obsesssion
The flags of the eight Ivy League universities flying over Wien Stadium, at Columbia University, in New York city.
— Photo by Kenneth C. Zirkel
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From The Conversation (not including image above).
Stephen Chen is an associate professor of psychology at Wellesley College.
Preparation of this essay was supported in part by a grant from the Asian Pacific American Religions Research Initiative.
(Editor’s note; Ivy League universities are about to announce the number of high-school students who applied to them for admission to the Class of 2030.)
WELLESLEY, Mass.
Each March, many of the country’s most selective colleges and universities release their admissions decisions, reviving debates over the roles of race, wealth and privilege – and putting Americans’ cultural obsession with rankings back in the spotlight.
Meanwhile, a more personal set of questions will emerge in many homes and schools. Who got into a “better” school, and why? And for those who didn’t, what to do with a dream school deferred? What’s missing are more fundamental questions about the costs of striving for status and how to know when to stop.
From my former life as a college counselor to my current one as a psychology professor, I’ve spent more than two decades working with Asian-American families, the demographic group that often finds itself at the center of college admissions debates. I listen as they grapple with questions of race, social status and who makes it in the U.S. and why. I’ve also seen firsthand, both inside and outside of the research lab, how some students’ never-ending quest for achievement takes a toll on their mental health.
Americans’ frenzy over college admissions may be a relatively modern affliction, but striving for status is timeless and universal, and it can benefit from the wisdom of ancient texts. This is why, in my team’s research with Asian-American families, we bring the Chinese philosopher Laozi into the conversation. Through the Daodejing, one of the central texts of Daoism, Laozi offers perspectives from a tumultuous period of status-striving in Chinese history – and shifts our focus from comparison and competition to contentment.
The ‘success frame’
In interviews with Asian American parents, children and teens over the past 10 years, I hear echoes of what sociologists Jennifer Lee and Min Zhou call the “Asian American success frame”: success defined by elite educational credentials, graduate degrees and select occupations. Their research shows how the success frame is endorsed by Asian Americans across different ethnic groups, generations and socioeconomic brackets.
My team’s ongoing interviews, in turn, provide a window into how that idea of success is promoted. One mother told her 11-year-old son her wish is for him not to pursue an M.D. or a Ph.D., but both. Another parent of a 16-year-old with college applications on the horizon discouraged her from applying to state schools, because she had heard that some job recruiters consider only Ivy League resumes.
Future graduates wait for the procession to begin for the 2010 commencement ceremony at Yale University in New Haven, Conn. AP Photo/Jessica Hill
These conversations rarely mention the toll of chasing these highly specific, highly ambitious benchmarks of success. Rather, it comes to light when we talk with parents one-on-one about their own experiences. One lamented being a doctor, but not the “right kind” of doctor; another mentioned getting a Ph.D., but not from the best school; yet another described landing the job they sought when they immigrated to the U.S., only to run up against “bamboo ceilings” in their career.
Each of these comparisons involves relative or subjective social status: not how much education, wealth or prestige people actually have, but how much they think they have, relative to others. Decades of research indicate that thinking you have lower relative status takes a unique toll on mental and physical health.
I see this in my lab’s studies, as well: Parents who perceive themselves as being lower in subjective social status report more depressive symptoms, and children who perceive themselves as having low relative status report more loneliness, even when accounting for families’ actual levels of income and education.
Likewise, scholars Zhou and Lee identify similar struggles among Asian-Americans shouldering the weight of these social comparisons. A woman who attended a lower-ranked college than her family members told researchers she “feels like the ‘black sheep’ of the family”; a man rejected from elite Ph.D. programs considers himself a failure for “only having a B.A.”
The unending climb of status comparisons can be a crushing load – and this is where Laozi comes into the conversation.
Dangers of desire
By some accounts, Laozi was a contemporary of Confucius in the sixth century B.C.E. – though the details of his biography are more legendary than factual.
Traditionally, he has been venerated as the author of the Daodejing, a foundational text of Daoism: a Chinese philosophical and religious tradition centered around following the “dao,” or “the way” of nature. The general consensus of modern scholarship, however, is that the Daodejing reflects the work of generations of thinkers and editors, and that even the name “Laozi” embodies ideas developed over centuries.
‘Laozi Riding an Ox,’ by Zhang Lu (15th-16th century). National Palace Museum via Wikimedia Commons
Most scholars date the composition of the Daodejing to China’s Warring States period, from 475-221 B.C.E. It was a time of tremendous technological, economic and political change, when competitions for status played out on the battlefield. Given this historical context, it’s little surprise that much of the text’s musings are devoted to status-chasing and the dark side of human desire.
For example, the Daodejing criticizes the ruling class and its talent-recruitment system for dangling enticing status markers that could never be fully achieved. Dreaming of prestige could feel like a full assault on the senses, as captured in Ken Liu’s luminous translation:
“A profusion of colors blinds the eye.
A cacophony of noises deafens the ear.
A flood of flavors numbs the tongue.
Rushing and chasing, the mind becomes unsettled.
Craving and desiring, the heart loses itself on crooked paths.”
The Daodejing may be an ancient text, but part of its enduring appeal is its timelessness. Through Liu’s prose, we can easily imagine Laozi critiquing today’s profusion of college influencer videos, a cacaphony of Reddit threads trumpeting admissions strategies, and high school students rushing and chasing after a stacked resume.
Laozi sees plainly the Sisyphean nature of achieving: that it inevitably leads to desiring more. He offers a stark warning: “The more you desire, the more it costs. / The more you hoard, the more you’ll waste.”
Critically, as the philosopher Curie Virágargues, Laozi isn’t suggesting that people abandon desire altogether. Rather, our truest desires can only be uncovered when we’ve freed ourselves from those imposed by society. And it’s the satisfaction of these true desires that can lead to contentment.
Deeper questions
In my research team’s ongoing study with Chinese-American parents and adolescents, we present a phrase encapsulating one of the core teachings of the Daodejing: that contentment – knowing or mastering satisfaction – leads to happiness. We then ask parents to explain to their child what they think it means and whether or not they agree.
Most parents are familiar with the phrase. Some endorse it, while others add caveats. Being content is different from being lazy, some emphasize; it’s not an excuse to stop striving. Many struggle to articulate the distinctions between contentment, laziness and healthy ambition – and as a psychologist, I admit that I’m right there with them.
I want Laozi to provide a clear definition for contentment, and even better, a formula for how to find it. But the Daodejing is more descriptive than prescriptive – less how-to and more what is. In Liu’s description, the text is Laozi’s invitation into a conversation, and it allows our deepest questions to come to the surface. Beneath the race for rank and status, what is it that we actually desire, and how do we find it?
These are difficult questions for any parent to answer. But if we’re willing to start the conversation, we can begin by asking them first of ourselves.
Victory!?
Untitled oil on canvas by Sonja Vaccari, in the group show “Reflecting on the Past/Dreaming the Future,’’ at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst Fine Arts Center through May 8.
Google’s new AI training program for Bay Staters — enlightened self-interest
Edited and excerpted from a New England Council report
Google is partnering with Massachusetts’s state government to offer free classes on artificial intelligence for state residents through its “Grow with Google” program. It is a seven-part online program covering AI for brainstorming, research, writing, content creation, and app building, at no cost to the state; and upon completion individual receive the new Google AI Professional Certificate.
The program is aimed at broadening access to AI education across the Bay State, with Gov. Maura Healey emphasizing its value for small businesses, nonprofits, local organizations, and communities historically underrepresented in the tech sector. The courses, normally available for a $49 monthly membership, will be managed by the Massachusetts AI Hub, a division of the Massachusetts Technology Collaborative launched by Healey in 2024, and are available to any resident who provides a Massachusetts address. The initiative also includes access to Google’s broader Career Certificate program, offering credentials in cybersecurity, digital marketing, data analytics, and other fields.
“We want our innovators and companies and talent to know that this is the place to be if you want to be on board with using AI,’’ said Governor Healey at an event at Google’s Cambridge facility.
Indigenous ‘togetherness’
“ mάwαməwak” (acrylic on canvas), by James Eric Francis Sr., in the show “Mawte: Bound Together,” at the Colby College Museum of Art, Waterville, Maine, through April 13,
The museum says:
The show “connects contemporary Wabanaki artists in an exhibition initiated by guest curator and Penobscot basketmaker Sarah Sockbeson. The Penobscot word mαwte (mαw tteh) means ‘it is together.’ Ideas of togetherness and interconnection guide both the artworks themselves and the curatorial process.
“Sockbeson and a core group of invited artists reimagine exhibition making by modeling collective storytelling, while challenging simplified views of Indigenous aesthetics. Through shared conversations, the artists shaped the exhibition around binding and rebinding, environment and place, and Indigenous-led expression.’’
We could use some About now
“Gentle Weather,’’ painting by Laura Fayer, in her show of recent work, at Lanoue Gallery, Boston, through April 25.
She says:
“I make large-scale abstract paintings. Combining traditional painting techniques with an experimental relief printmaking process, I build layered paintings on canvas using acrylic and hand-printed Japanese paper collage elements, where fields of color meet gestural, woodblock-inspired marks.
“My work is shaped by formative years in Japan, particularly the wabi-sabi principle that honors imperfection and impermanence. I'm interested in compositional elements caught on the cusp of coalescing, where the eye moves between atmosphere and form, clarity and ambiguity, leaving room for possibility.”
“My work is shaped by formative years in Japan, particularly the wabi-sabi principle that honors imperfection and impermanence. I'm interested in compositional elements caught on the cusp of coalescing, where the eye moves between atmosphere and form, clarity and ambiguity, leaving room for possibility.”
Chris Powell: About those droning committee meetings
“The Land of Cockaigne,’’ by Pieter Bruegel the Elder (1567)
MANCHESTER, Conn.
Small but feisty, the Republican minority in the Connecticut General Assembly made a big stink the other day about the Democratic majority's deciding to terminate at midnight a public hearing on vaccine legislation. Hundreds of people who wanted to speak at the hearing lost their opportunity.
It didn't look good and the Republicans probably would have been foolish not to complain about it. But there really wasn't much substance to their complaint.
For even with the most controversial issues, public hearings before the legislature are almost always needlessly exhausting. The relevant arguments are always made within the first couple of hours and what follows is mainly repetition and sometimes impotent venting. Meanwhile legislators duck out to attend other hearings, converse with constituents or lobbyists, get something to eat or drink, or use the bathroom.
Seldom are all committee members present during a hearing. As it drags on, only a few committee members may remain at their desks, sometimes only two or three. Even when many committee members are present, as testimony becomes redundant some will immerse themselves in their laptop computers, and they don't miss much.
So it's hard to blame them.
Besides, people can express their views to the legislature without chewing up the clock at three minutes per speaker. For everyone can submit written testimony of nearly any length. That testimony is made available to all committee members and may reach more of them than spoken testimony does. Individual constituent contact with legislators outside of hearings may be far more effective than anything said at a hearing.
Yes, as the Republicans complain, the legislature's Democratic majority has become more arrogant as it has increased. But limits on the public's speaking time aren't the worst of that arrogance. The Democrats' recent use of the "emergency certification" procedure to call urgent votes on disparate legislation about which there was no emergency was far more objectionable -- and a little ridiculous.
The Democrats noted fairly that some of their "emergency" bills were old ones and already had hearings last year, so no one was sneaking something through -- at least not this time. But by invoking a bogus "emergency" the Democrats were really confessing their inability to manage the session well enough to get its work done before this year's earlier adjournment date.
The legislature's tradition of unlimited debate even during the last days of the session does allow a minority to filibuster fatally much legislation that has ample support to pass. But such time pressures could be greatly reduced if not eliminated if the majority didn't let legislators clutter the agenda with so much trivial legislation.
A state like Connecticut -- where public education is collapsing amid its refusal to enforce standards; where poverty, homelessness, and mental illness are exploding as times get harder; and where state employee salaries and pensions are cannibalizing the government -- really doesn't need to consider legislation directing the state's flagship public university to undertake a study of unidentified flying objects. A study of those serious unaddressed issues might be helpful, if much scarier than UFOs.
Nor does Connecticut need the trivial legislation approved the other day by the Government Administration and Elections Committee to allow municipalities to experiment with ranked-choice voting.
Ranked-choice voting -- or "instant runoff" voting -- enables voters to transfer their votes to second-choice candidates if their first choices don't achieve a majority. In recent decades Connecticut has elected a U.S. senator (Lowell P. Weicker Jr.) and three governors (Weicker, John G. Rowland, and Ned Lamont) with less than a majority vote, even as ranked-choice voting might have produced different winners.
Since ranked-choice voting may be complicated, it is worth trying only for the most important offices, not for municipal offices, where few are important, voter participation is low, and understaffed municipal election officials are unlikely to volunteer for the extra work.
Only the secretary of the state's office might be competent to experiment with ranked-choice voting, and only elections for president, governor, and Congress are important enough to require decision by majority rather than mere plurality vote.
Chris Powell has written about Connecticut government and politics for many years (CPowell@cox.net)
America at 250, warts and All
“Young Washington” (lithograph on paper), by Alex Katz, in the show “Framing American Democracy: Contemporary Artists Reflect,’’ at the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, through Sept. 13.
The museum says (this is slightly edited):
“Artists of the past 50 years have played an active role in shaping and critiquing American society and politics. Mostly drawn from The Wadsworth’s permanent collection of contemporary art, the works in this exhibition project an image of the United States that shows it both audacious and flawed, in which principles of self-governance and individual rights—such as those outlined in the Fundamental Orders of Connecticut (1639) and the Declaration of Independence (1776)—are both revolutionary forces and works in progress.
“Some artists reexamine American democratic ideals through a subversive lens, while others seek to expand national narratives to include people whose rights were excluded by the Founding Fathers, such as women and descendants of enslaved Africans. Many artists represent protest or even use their art as a form of activism, particularly during such watershed moments as the Civil Rights Era, the Vietnam War, and the AIDS crisis, while others ambivalently reflect on darker aspects of American culture, from consumerism to militarism.’’
They’re doing all right
From The Boston Guardian (but not image above)
(Robert Whitcomb, New England Diary’s editor, is chairman of The Boston Guardian.)
There are only two billionaires who reside in Boston, according to a recently published list of world’s richest people by Forbes.
Both Amos Hostetter Jr. and Noubar Afeyan live on Beacon Hill. Hostetter founded Continental Cablevision and created the Barr Foundation. He is worth $3.9 billion. Afeyan cofounded Moderna and is worth $1.9 billion.
Forbes lists 25 billionaires living in Massachusetts or who have significant business interests in the state.
The wealthiest is Abigail Johnson, the CEO of Fidelity ($33.2 billion) followed by Patriots owner Robert Kraft ($13.8 billion).
Red Sox owner John Henry ($5.7 billion) is a Florida resident.
The Forbes list includes:
1. Abigail Johnson, CEO of Fidelity Investments: $33.2 billion
2. Robert Kraft, owner of the New England Patriots: $13.8 billion
3. Edward Johnson IV, president of Pembroke Real Estate: $13.6 billion
4. Elizabeth Johnson, $11.6 billion
5. Jim Davis, chairman of New Balance: $6.3 billion
6. Robert Hale Jr., CEO of Granite Telecommunications: $6.0 billion
7. John Henry, owner of the Boston Red Sox $5.7 billion
8. Patrizio Vinciarelli, Vicor CEO: $4.3 billion
9. 9. Amos Hostetter Jr.: $3.9 billion.
10. John Fish, CEO of Suffolk Construction: $3.6 billion
11. Ted Alfond, heir of Dexter Shoe Company fortune: $3.5 billion
12. Bill Alfond, heir of Dexter Shoe Company fortune: $3.5 billion
13. Alan Trefler, CEO of Pegasystems: $3.5 billion
14. William “Bill” Chisholm, Boston Celtics owner: $3.2 billion
15. 15. Phillip T. (Terry) Ragon, founder of InterSystems: $3.2 billion
16. Herb Chambers, a former New England auto retailer: $2.8 billion
17. Liesel Pritzker Simmons, Hyatt Hotel heiress: $2.1 billion
18. 18. Noubar Afeyan, chairman and co-founder of Moderna: $1.9 billion
19. Larry Culp, GE Aerospace chairman and CEO: $1.8 billion
20. Frank Laukien, CEO of Bruker Corp.: $1.5 billion
21. Andrew Bialecki, co-founder and CEO of Klaviyo, headquartered in Boston: $1.5 billion
22. Seth Klarman, CEO and president of Baupost Group: $1.5 billion
23. Paul Fireman, former chairman of Reebok: $1.5 billion
24. Jim Koch, chairman of the Boston Beer Company: $1.4 billion
25. Timothy Springer, founding investor of Moderna: $1.1 billion
Art across a continent
“Beaded Crown” (before 1986) (seed beads, basketry, leather, cotton, woven raffia), by a Yoruba artist, in Nigeria, in the show “Festival: A Celebration of African Art,’’ at the Fitchburg (Mass.) Art Museum, through Dec. 3.
The museum says:
“Drawing upon universal themes of life, death, power, love, and celebration, the show presents highlights of the museum’s African Art collection organized around the concepts of Masquerades, Ceremonial Life, Ritual Life, and Domestic Life. From first millennium CE terracottas, to contemporary sculptures, the show spans time and space, demonstrating both the breadth of FAM’s collection and the diversity of cultures and contexts across the African continent.’’
Ghost gear imperils marine Animals
Dall’s porpoise entangled in fishing net.
Excerpted from an ecoRI.org article by Frank Carini (not including images above)
““Commercial fishing for shellfish, lobster, and finfish is an economic driver for many coastal communities along the Atlantic Coast, including ports in southern New England. Much of the gear now used in these fisheries is made of plastic, and lots of it is lost at sea every year….
“It has been estimated, for example, that 5 to 15 percent of lobster gear is lost annually to storms, propellers, and accidents. Since commercial fishing gear is used in harsh conditions it requires frequent replacement and is expensive to dispose of, some of it is deliberately dumped. Either way, all the fisheries are represented in the world’s stock of derelict fishing gear, more commonly called ghost gear….
“This lost gear ranges from monofilament and braided fishing lines to ropes and nets to pots and traps. This jumble of commercial fishing equipment can be catastrophic for ocean life, ensnaring fish and marine mammals and endangering sea turtles.’’
Hyper-experential
From “to give what is due,’’Ena Kantardžić’s experiential exhibition at Montserrat College of Art’s (in Beverly, Mass.)FRAME 301 Gallery, through March 20. The gallery says: “The show features UAV (unmanned aircraft vehicle) documentary footage of Kantardžić’s ongoing land work echo 2 as a 2-channel laser projection, as well as new material created from harvested narcissi (daffodils).’’
Lucky and shrewd
"Connecticut. Aren’t we lucky? We have wonderful wildflowers—parks—hills—lovely old houses. We have a pace that we like—sometimes slow—sometimes fast. Rivers—reservoirs—Long Island Sound. A wonderful climate—trees—gardens—snow—rain. And it's a good size—not huge—not small."
— Katherine Hepburn (1907-2003), American movie star and Connecticut native. She lived for many years in Old Saybrook, on Long Island Sound.
xxx
"The sobriquet, the Nutmeg State, is applied to Connecticut because its early inhabitants had the reputation of being so ingenious and shrewd that they were able to make and sell wooden nutmegs."
— Connecticut State Library
Vacant vacation
“Ventura” (print from ektachrome slide) by Jennifer Liston Munson, in her show “The Camera Sees,’’ at Kingston Gallery, Boston, April 30-May 31.
The gallery says:
“In 1973, Susan Sontag wrote that ‘it is the camera that sees.’ Jennifer Liston Munson’s new work explores the notion that the watchful eye of the camera holds personal narratives not as a memory-keeper but as a foreteller of histories yet to happen.
‘In 2025, Liston Munson opened a garbage bag of family ektachrome slides slotted to be discarded and sifted through the tiny transparent images to view the intensely colored images from her 1960s and 70s past. Some images were vaguely familiar, some were completely unknown but proved her presence on family vacations in Florida—and in Los Angeles where her family moved in 1973. This re-seeing experience presented complexities of reconstructing an unresolved past that includes the deaths of her sister and brother. This new work juxtaposes large-scale translucent prints suspended in space in which the artist allowed AI to erase figures as it interpreted the image to reveal what the camera has held over time.’’
‘In the womb of the storm’
“Gathering Storm,’’ by Albert Bierstadt (1830-1902).
Blue through the window burns the twilight;
Heavy, through trees, blows the warm south wind.
Glistening, against the chill, gray sky light,
Wet, black branches are barred and entwined.
Sodden and spongy, the scarce-green grass plot
Dents into pools where a foot has been.
Puddles lie spilt in the road a mass, not
Of water, but steel, with its cold, hard sheen.
Faint fades the fire on the hearth, its embers
Scattering wide at a stronger gust.
Above, the old weathercock groans, but remembers
Creaking, to turn, in its centuried rust.
Dying, forlorn, in dreary sorrow,
Wrapping the mists round her withering form,
Day sinks down; and in darkness to-morrow
Travails to birth in the womb of the storm.
— “March Evening,” by Amy Lowell (1874-1925), Boston poet
Landscape at its Essence
“Abstract Tuscan Landscape #5” (oil on wood panel), by Greg Gorman, in his show “Abstracting the Landscape: In Search of the Essence,’’ at AVA Gallery and Art Center, Lebanon, N.H., through April 25.
The gallery says:
“The concept of this exhibition is to explore the process of abstracting landscape, using the Tuscan countryside as a point of departure. The works presented trace progression from relatively representational interpretations of the landscape through successive stages of deconstruction and abstraction, gradually reducing each scene to its essential elements and offering a new way of seeing the familiar.’’
Philip K. Howard: How to Try to Rebuild Trust in a Troubled world
“The more I read the papers, the less I comprehend. The world with all its capers, and how it all will end.” These are Ira Gershwin’s opening lyrics to Our Love Is Here to Stay, with music by his brother George, written in 1937, the year in which George died.
(Hit this link to hear Ella Fitzgerald sing the song.)
Now as well, the world order seems to be unraveling as we sit down for morning coffee.
My fear is not that America and other free nations lack the power to contain totalitarian threats. What scares me is that America is weakened by distrust. The strength of any culture and coalition comes not just from aligned interests, but mutual trust. Take away trust, and commitment becomes tentative. To be strong, any group must be bonded by belief in each other.
The bad guys know this. They like it if the U.S. acts like a bully, because that fractures alliances and undermines our moral authority. China, Russia and others also sow division within America, hacking our culture using social media. America can’t be strong abroad, they know, if we’re weak at home.
Our focus at Common Good is to re-empower Americans to take responsibility—to modernize infrastructure, fix poor schools, and regain ownership of our values in daily interactions. The impediment is a flawed governing philosophy, introduced after the 1960s, that strains daily choices through a legal sieve. Instead of using common sense, Americans go through the day listening to a little lawyer on our shoulders.
The harm of law everywhere is not just government paralysis, but growing social distrust. A recent Pew survey found that social distrust in America is higher than in any surveyed country. In his farewell New York Times column, David Brooks explained how “four decades of hyperindividualism” have led to growing distrust, which in turn dampens ambition and hope for the future. But Brooks does not explain why selfish individualism infected the culture.
In “The Need for Judgment,” published by Law & Liberty, I argue that distrust grows when people are not accountable for selfish behavior. Today, Americans are taught to avoid being “judgmental.” We’ve been told that almost any adverse decision about someone might be a violation of their rights. You must be prepared to prove by objective evidence that, say, the teacher has lost her spark, or that a co-worker selfishly games the system. Who are you to judge?
Distrust can arise from many sources, including the inability of governing authorities to deal with endemic social problems. But there’s hardly any more corrosive cause than letting people get away with selfish behavior. Instead, in a well-meaning effort to avoid bias, modern law encourages a mindset of self-interested entitlement: Give Me My Rights!
Both the paralysis of American government and the rise of hyperindividualism are largely caused by one flaw in modern governing structure—the disempowerment of human judgment.
A spring cleaning of the red-tape state is long overdue. The proper role of law is to provide a framework for freedom and for official authority—not to micromanage choices within that framework. Reviving trust will be hard until Americans feel free to act on their best judgment.
Philip K. Howard, a New York-based lawyer, author, civic leader and photographer, is chairman of Common Good, a nonprofit legal-and-regulatory-reform group. His books include The Death of Common Sense.
In search of nonsalt ice melters
Storing road salt.
Salt corrodes exposed metal on cars, bridges, etc.
Thester11 photo
Adapted from Robert Whitcomb’s “Digital Diary,’’ in GoLocal24.com
I hope that we get lots of rain in the next few weeks to quickly wash away the snow-and-ice-melting road salt that threatens to lay waste to plants along the roads. But maybe that’s not a good idea? Much of this salt will end up in bodies of fresh and salt water, whose ecosystems it will damage. Pray for the development of new environmentally friendlier melters that cost no more than salty ones. Made from plants?
Snow, however beautiful it can be when fresh-fallen, is a powerful dirt and pollution collector.
The Rhode Island Department of the Environment warns:
“As snow melts, road salt, sand, litter, and other pollutants are transported into surface water or through the soil where they may eventually reach the groundwater. Road salt and other pollutants can contaminate water supplies and are toxic to aquatic life at certain levels. Sand washed into waterbodies can create sand bars or fill in wetlands and ponds, impacting aquatic life, causing flooding, and affecting our use of these resources.’’
People are supposed to alert the agency if they want/need to dump snow in public waterways.
Given the gargantuan snowstorm of Feb. 22-24, Spring will be particularly polluted this year hereabouts as all this stuff melts and is dumped, often with little care.
‘Crosscurrents of color, light and Imagination’
Left “Savage and Holy Light” (acrylic on canvas) and right, “Night Visitor” (acrylic on canvas) by Pamela Granbery, in her show “Radiant States,’’ at the Newport Art Museum, through May 31.
The museum says:
“Pamela Granbery (American, born 1948) paints at the crosscurrents of color, light, and imagination. Working in watercolor and mixed media, she creates luminous, atmospheric fields where color behaves like light itself, energetic, shifting, and alive. Born of both accident and intention, her process recalls the spiritual experimentation of John La Farge’s stained glass and the dreamlike surrealism of Salvador Dalí’s landscapes.’’
Llewellyn King: Loving Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day, with all its contradictions
A St. Patrick's Day procession in Downpatrick, Northern Ireland, where St. Patrick is said to be buried.
The Chicago River dyed green for S. Patrick’s Day.
— Photo by Scott M. Liebenson
WEST WARWICK, R.I.
St. Patrick’s Day is Tuessday, and I won’t let it pass without wearing something green and reaching for a glass of something that has been produced through fermentation or distillation. It is the least I can do for all the ways the Irish have enriched the world, but especially the English language, and me.
When it comes to writing, the Irish have what might be termed an ethnic advantage, from the literary game-changers in the last century — George Bernard Shaw, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett and Brendan Behan — to two of the top practitioners of novel-writing today, Sally Rooney, who is only 35, and the prolific and so-readable John Banville.
When it comes to poets, William Butler Yeats is, to my mind, seated among the immortals.
Yet, as I enjoy my St. Patrick’s Day libation, I shall reflect on the contradictions that are Ireland. These are summed up in a personal experience.
I was, for over 20 years, the American organizer of the Humbert Summer School in Ballina, Co. Mayo. One of my missions was to take Americans — often Irish Americans who had never been to their ancestral land — to Ireland and the school.
Summer schools in Ireland are akin to Renaissance weekends or Aspen Institute meetings in America. Some are literary, like the Yeats Summer School in Sligo, or political, like the Parnell Summer School in Co. Wicklow, or musical, like the Willy Clancy Summer School in Co. Clare.
Mine, alas, is defunct, but it was named after the French General Jean Joseph Humbert who landed in Killala Bay to help the United Irishmen’s rebellion against the British in 1798, which was celebrated in Thomas Flanagan’s novel “The Year of the French,” and the movie based on it.
The Humbert School was the creation of its director, John Cooney, a distinguished journalist and major historian. Its mission was to discuss Ireland’s future at home and abroad.
Before the start of one year’s summer school, I briefed my Irish American charge, Ray Connolly, on just how awfully the British, my people, had behaved in the northwest of Ireland, from colonization in 1611 to the 1798 rebellion, to the famine of 1846, when so many perished or fled in the great diaspora, to the notorious Black and Tans after World War I. They were a paramilitary force formed in 1920 to reinforce police posts, act as escorts, and conduct counter-insurgency operations. But their cruelty caused many Irish people to join the Irish Republican Army.
I spared nothing in the telling of Albion’s perfidy in Ireland.
After the weeklong summer school, on our drive to Dublin Airport and our flight back to Washington, we stopped in a pub. When the publican heard my English accent, he asked, ”How’s the weather over there?” I knew he meant in England. I had to explain that I was now an American and had been for years.
The publican threw his arms around me and declared, “God bless you. You never lost your accent.”
Our exchange confused Ray. He reminded me that I had recounted the full litany of English horror in the northwest of Ireland including, after the 1798 rebellion, how Gen. Charles Cornwallis, chagrined after his defeat in America, hanged 20 Irish rebels per day.
“That,” I said of the enthusiastic publican, “is part of the wonder of Ireland: its contradictions.”
Ireland’s relationship with Britain is a fine example of those.
Britain is a prime destination for work and for career opportunities for the Irish. They talk of London with affection, although they may still sing rebel songs with gusto, and mention the horrors of the past as though they were last week.
Under a treaty, the Common Travel Agreement (CTA), Irish citizens have the right of abode in England. For them, there is no frontier; although, I learn, that may change as people who have acquired Irish citizenship, but aren’t Irish-born, are abusing it, adding to the immigration woes in Britain.
If the CTA should end, Britain will lose much, just as America is set to lose Irish talent because of immigration restrictions.
When talking about the impact of Ireland on America – 23 presidents were of at least some Irish descent — it should be noted that America has also had an impact on Ireland.
On the downside, there is fast food. When I asked a cab driver in Dublin about where to get good fish and chips, he said he preferred Kentucky Fried Chicken.
On the upside, there is the celebration of St. Patrick’s Day, which started in America.
But before Americans went crazy for all things Irish on March 17, it was a quiet religious day in Ireland. Now it is more of a celebration there, as it is here and much of the world. Sláinte!
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Llewellyn King is executive producer and host of White House Chronicle, on PBS.