To a Degree

The issue of exactly who has access to higher education is a thorny one, full of truths, half-truths, and outright lies. Recently, I was reminded of an incident which took place over thirty years ago, before the preponderance of “woke” assertions regarding education became “common knowledge.” Back in 1992, my son (a white male, by the way) was about to graduate from high school. He had his heart set on attending California Institute of Technology, and it looked very promising that he would end up there. However, to explore his options and to prepare for summer employment – possibly even an internship or two – he applied to a certain government agency for an entry-level summer job in mathematics. Now, at this point, I should explain that my son was a top mathematician in his high school, holding a place on the Math Team and the It’s Academic Team. In fact, he graduated as valedictorian, and I proudly listened from the stands as he delivered an excellent exhortation to his fellow stud

 Well, Christmas has come and gone. Today, as I write this, is New Year's Day, and I am tempted to take down my (pink) Christmas tree -- a thing I have never done!! But -- no -- I am leaving it up, because it represents Hope, and that hope has not yet imprinted itself on my heart. Here is a poem I wrote earlier: Hope Is a Tree Hope is a tree           Pink… artificial… silver-clad           Light dims when batteries are spent;           No life… yet life in the heart. Hope is a tree           Sprung from a seed,           Alone in a barrel;           Thirsty… hungry…           Living in moonlight, yet longing for the sun. Hope is a tree           Rough… sharp… bloody           Hands and feet fastened           Life given, with love and passion. Hope is a tree           Bearing everlasting fruit           Near a crystal river;           Come… eat… rest           For hope is a tree and is life.  Shalom, my friends and readers. Talk to you later