Nancy's Inner Space

 

"From Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit, there came a great unifying life force that flowed in and through all things -- the flowers of the plains, blowing winds, rocks, trees, birds, animals -- and was the same force that had been breathed into the first man. Thus all things were kindred, and were brought together by the same Great Mystery."

-- Luther Standing Bear, Chief of the Oglala, Lakota (1905-1939)

 

While waiting for the bus yesterday, I observed three incipient mass transit riders complaining vociferously to a man in a T uniform about the dangerous bees that were threatening them. "I'm afraid of bees!" "They shouldn't be here!" "You need to do something!" "Just moving the trash can won't help!" "I don't want to get stung!"

 

You get the idea.

 

The "threatening" hoard was two (count 'em) bumble bees that seemed enamored with floating fairly noiselessly on the breeze wafting past the overhang of the bus terminal building. They appeared to be enjoying themselves. They weren't dive-bombing anyone. They had no interest in the trash cans like yellow jackets (wasps) do and had less interest in the people waiting to board busses.

 

My impression is that the average person has no knowledge of the diversity of insect species, nor interest in gathering any, and therefore lumps all flying yellow bugs with a vague buzzing sound into the DANGEROUS KILLER BEE category. I understand someone who is allergic being more circumspect than the rest of us, but this all-out fear and loathing is unsettling. Amid the calls to get an exterminator to kill the bees because they might be nesting in the soffit of the building there was no awareness that this is the bumble bees' territory. We were just standing in it. And the bees weren't being aggressive, mostly not taking note of the humans. One man standing there took a notebook from his briefcase and waved it around, hitting himself in the head, and doing more damage to himself than the bumble bees did.

 

With the recent news of colony collapse disorder plaguing honey bees, might it not make more sense to see the planet we live on as an integrated system? We have a niche in it to be sure, but we are not the only species living here. It has been said that if the bees become extinct, mankind is sure to follow. But I think that people of the ilk of these bus patrons will still be standing with their eyes closed and their spray cans of insecticide blasting away as the planet dies around them. And once the planet dies, are we not doomed as well?

 

Wake up and open your eyes. You are part of the world, as vulnerable as a bee or a manatee. And you have as much potential as any other species to live in harmony with all living things. Unmitigated war on one part of the ecosystem we call Earth is like hitting ourselves in the head.  Leave the bees alone.

Think before you act. You just might be rude.

 

I am continually astonished by the number of incidences of rudeness I have encountered recently. In none of these cases was I antagonizing the person. However, each of the people in my late memory has taken the minuscule amount of power and/or authority they were given and used it as a truncheon against me. And I'm not so naive to think that there's something specifically about me that would engender this kind of behavior, but some days I surely feel an almost magnetic attraction of their disrespectful behavior. My most recent experience was at a school concert during which (between numbers) I felt the necessity to visit the ladies room. On my way back into the makeshift concert hall to my seat near the back of the room I was accosted by a volunteer who ran up behind me, shoved the door closed and admonished me in a strident stage whisper that it was "only right" for me to wait until the piece was over to enter the space. I did an about-face and walked away from her without a word. She hollered (sotto voce of course, because that would be "only right") that she was "following" me. I turned to her and announced, "Oh, grow up."

 

I spent the rest of that piece of music standing around outside the building in the drizzle. I just didn't feel like any more interactions of that calibre. And it doesn't make me want to patronize that music department.

 

So what is it about rudeness these days? My recent experiences have all been interactions with women. Are some women feeling so insecure or, more sinister, more oddly empowered to act with "authority" that they mistakenly behave like foolishly unbelieveable barbarians? I was always taught to treat people with respect, especially people whom one does not know. The thought behind this is that you don't really know who you're talking to unless you know them and thus you know not what their experience level or their position in society. (Please don't delude yourself at this point by trying to tell me that the United States is a country without a class system.) More than that, offering another person dignity instead of the disconnection of crude, disrespectful, primitive discourtesy should be the norm instead of the exception. I fear that this kind of crass behavior is a harbinger or more to come as people become more frightened by the decline of our political and economic place in the world as well as climate change that is inevitable and will be life-changing.

 

But instead of behaving like a savage philistine, we should be culturing respect for each other. In the final analysis, we are all we have on this earth. Our fellow human beings have the potential to be powerful allies in a continued fight for existence and must not be discarded in discordant ways that promote disharmony. That way lies barbarism. And the end of civilization as we know it.

I had the privilege of hearing Captain Alan Bean speak last night. I went supposing that we would hear about his voyages on Apollo 12, when he was the fourth man to walk on the moon, and Skylab III, during which he set records in space. We indeed heard about these accomplishments but more than that, we heard about his love for painting and for his fellow mankind. If he had talked about only his experiences as a Navy pilot or a NASA astronaut I wouldn't have been diappointed. But he went on from this to speak passionately about his painting, a hobby that has become, in additional to speaking engagements, his vocation. And beyond just his experiences, he has a philosophy of life that is applicable to everyone.

 

In one anecdote, he told a story of preparations for the Apollo 12 mission during which he and Pete Conrad received a briefing that could have been more succinct. Bean complained to Commander Conrad that in his opinion, the person doing the briefing might have been a poor choice for their team and perhaps they should consider bumping him. Conrad's response was to say that perhaps Bean wasn't appropriate for the team because he was unwilling to accept the briefing in the form it was given. Conrad, instead of requesting a new LM pilot, gave Bean the advice that he should try to find, in every team member, three things he admired. In that way he would be able to appreciate each person's contribution, whether or not he liked either the person or his presentation of information.

 

It was good advice, seeing as it took upwards of 400,000 people to put our astronauts on the moon. And it's a good practice in everyday life.

 

We were treated to slides of many of his paintings. Captain Bean is an accomplished artist, incorporating texture into his work with moon boots and sliced-up bits of spacesuit patches that contain moon dust. Fantastic! He is able, through his art, to show us his interpretation of many of the moonwalks, even painting a likeness of himself and Pete Conrad posing in front of their LM Intrepid with CM pilot Dick Gordon between them getting the "bunny ears" treatment behind his helmet from Bean.

 

When the talk was over and several questions from the audience answered, it was time to leave and I stood in line for quite a while hoping to shake Capt. Bean's hand. What a thrill! It's not often that meeting a hero from your adolescence has no downside. I told my son about the talk and his reaction was that I had indirectly touched the moon. Even better -- I touched a human being.

Faithful readers, I have been remiss in reporting that I did finally receive a letter from the President and Director of the Museum of Science, Boston, addressing the subpar treatment I received at the hands of one of their employees. Actually I referred to Ms. T. in my latest letter as a "functionary." Ouch.

 

Anyway, I am assured that the individual has been "appropriately dealt with" and that it is unfortunate that I was placed in this inexcusable situation not once, but twice. Well, I think it's more than unfortunate. The word "inexcusable" says it all. The American Heritage Dictionary defines it as an adjective meaning "Impossible to excuse or justify; unpardonable."* With that being said, Dr. M. went on to offer his and the Museum's apologies.  

 

Now, I have made the decision to continue to participate in Museum offerings. After all, I have paid for membership through September and I believe that the actions of one individual shouldn't deter me or my family from enjoying some of the excellence the Museum offers. We have plans to hear astronaut and painter Alan Bean lecture this coming Tuesday as a matter of fact. But I will also admit to you that my good opinion of the Museum has been irreparably tarnished.

 

*inexcusable. Dictionary.com. The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Houghton Mifflin Company, 2004. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/inexcusable (accessed: April 27, 2008).