I had vowed after a post-Christmas excursion to New York City last year that I would be cautious where I traveled in winter. I ended up in NYC the last week in December, surrounded by several inches of snow, stuck in the middle of a Nor’easter, the locals’ appellation for such a winter storm. I walked through more piles of frozen white piles and stepped into more puddles of water from curb to curb than I can count from memory.

So this year for spring break, I decided to digress from plans I had already unofficially made involving a road trek through the Northeast and back. The forecasted temperatures did not look promising for the week, despite the impending commencement of spring.

I have never seen the desert Southwest, so I settled on that route as my road trip of choice for spring break. Surely, New Mexico and Arizona would be sunny and warm near the end of March, I thought.

After one night in Amarillo, Tex., and a long car ride along a desolate interstate, we reached Flagstaff, Ariz. We arrived in town late but decided to do a bit of exploring downtown. Flagstaff is an artsy, quirky, charming little town and didn’t feel touristy at all.

The next morning, as we slept in the dark sanctuary of the hotel room, a surprise awaited us outside. Although a couple of inches had already fallen, based on the accumulation on cars, most of it melted when it hit the ground. I was bound and determined, despite a southwestern blizzard, to see one of the most famous natural wonders in the United States.

The journey commenced. We headed west on the interstate for about 40 miles, at which time we reached Williams, Ariz., our exit to head north. We stopped for gasoline, and I went to use the restroom. I noticed the snow was growing so deep on the pavement that it piled outside the door of the restroom on the side of the gas station building. The gas station attendant suggestion we not continue our route, advising that roads would like be closed soon, and even if we could make it to the Canyon, lack of visibility would likely prevent us from seeing much of the landscape anyway.

So since it was lunch time, we settled in at a local restaurant in the quaint town of Williams called the Pizza Factory. We enjoyed our sundried tomato pesto white pie and watched the snow blow sideways in the Arizona air. In my years of growing up in the South, I had never seen snow blow quite that way. We decided by the end of the meal that we should probably discontinue our trip and return south toward Sedona where we would be spending the next two nights.

The weather seemed to be mocking us. When I checked the weather status back in west Tennessee, the sun was brightly shining and temperatures soared to the 70s. Our thermometer in Arizona was stuck at a permanent 30 degrees, it seemed.

Finally, we reached Flagstaff again after heading back east and then turned south on Arizona State Route 89A toward Sedona. We could have gone south on the interstate, but we would have had to go past Sedona and then return north to reach the town.

The winding two-lane mountain road from Flagstaff to Sedona was covered in frozen precipitation. Fortunately, it was a bit slushy but still seemed treacherous as we slid and curved down the slopes like downhill skiers in our automobile. One particular stretch curved back and forth so much that it looked like a mass of intestines or bundle of snakes on the map.

Finally, we descended the mountain, and the snow seemed to be halting. Just ahead, though, a sheriff’s deputy blocked the road ahead with his patrol car. He informed us that we would have to pull over there at the Slide Rock State Park beside where he had stopped, or turn around, return up the mountain, go down the interstate past Sedona, and then turn back north to get into town.

We didn’t really want to lose four whole hours just sitting in the car in the cold, so we began our ascent back up the mountain. The road was more heavily covered on the second attempt. At least it felt a little safer ascending those steep slopes as opposed to descending them.

Nevertheless, I never got to see the Grand Canyon on the trip, but I still experienced some breathtaking vistas. Next time, however, if I have to vacation where snow is common, I think I will choose New York City again. At least there the streets are flat and the subway makes transportation much easier than sliding up and down a snowy mountain road.

One of the most important investments in life is a solid education. This axiom is so often touted that it has become cliché, but much truth still resides in the idea. Even in today’s highly technical, specialized society, the best route is still a broad-based liberal arts education, which can then be followed by specialized technical study, if one so desires.

Liberal arts, or “humanities,” hearken back to the questions Socrates posed to the ancient Athenians. His questions pertain to definitions of “humanness” and the age-old conflict between good and evil. A liberal arts education that is strong, for instance, in the study of such general areas as logic, grammar, rhetoric, literature, mathematics, the arts, social sciences, and philosophy offer a background not explicitly for making a living but in learning how to live well.

Making a living is important, no doubt. However, acquiring the technical skill or craft knowledge sans the ethical background is not a viable approach. Every technical skill, or techne, as the Greeks called it, may be used in the service of good or detriment to society. To churn out technically-skilled graduates, or technocrats, without the foundational liberal arts knowledge seems Machiavellian: looking, in other words, toward the end without due consideration of the means. A computer programmer, lawyer, doctor, or business manager needs to possess a broad-based knowledge of the humanities.

History bears out the argument. Consider Nazi Germany, where skilled, technically advanced citizens—including doctors, nurses, psychologists, engineers, and scientists—were devoted in using their skills to exterminate a race of people at the rate of approximately 12,000 a day at Auschwitz , among other death camps. Winston Churchill is quoted in a biography as having called this episode of genocide “probably the greatest and most horrible crime ever committed in the whole history of the world, and it has been done by scientific machinery by nominally civilized men.”

While the Holocaust remains the most prominent example of scientific savagery, other instances abound in the name of political progress and scientific human experimentation, ranging from the Cambodian “killing fields” to a host of chemical warfare testing and disease infliction in the United States dating back to the early 19^th century. As one of many examples, in 1943, University of Cincinnati researchers placed 16 mentally disabled patients in refrigerated compartments at 30 degrees Fahrenheit for 120 hours, in order to “study the effect of frigid temperature on mental disorders.” 

Beyond virtue and ethics, post secondary education should also be a time devoted to discovery, a seeking of knowledge to help one discern what it is exactly that he or she wishes to do in life. In turn, the array of knowledge gained should be of service over the course of a lifetime.

Devoting too much, after all, to the acquisition of specific skills also seems a bit obsolete, considering the rapidly evolving pace of technological and social change. Those bent, for instance, on mastering one particular programming language today may tomorrow have to adapt and learn a new language as technological advancements occur daily.

While competition in the marketplace may be fierce and lead us to believe that a specialized, technical path is best, a liberal arts education does not mutually exclude a specialized career, and, according to research, employers are not necessarily looking at majors as a primary criterion. A recent National Association of Colleges and Employers bears out the rationale for broader education. In the survey, employers overwhelmingly stated that they look for “the right skills,” not necessarily “the right major.” In other words, the major is not actually as important as the candidate’s ability. Further, skills can be easily learned, even self-taught, while good thinking, on the other hand, cannot. A liberal arts education affords the ability for transformation, for self-expression, for that moral compass the Greeks so highly valued.

Albert Einstein, who may be deemed as having been highly technically specialized, once said, “The value of an education in a liberal arts college is not the learning of many facts but the training of the mind to think something that cannot be learned from textbooks." Indeed, whether we read Shakespeare, decipher a poem, look into the mysteries of the human body, consider psychological theories throughout history, or gaze into a microscope at a sample of bacteria, we are doing much more than merely learning facts: we are expanding horizons and learning how to think independently. Those valuable facets of learning have changed the lives of individuals and the world.

As a child of the 1980s, I felt left out, as if I had been born at the wrong time. When I discovered Edwin Arlington Robinson’s poem “Miniver Cheevy” in high school, I finally could identify. Cheevy, a disheartened romantic, laments his anachronistic existence, wishing he could return to the medieval romance of Camelot.

When I viewed media footage from the 1960s, everything seemed so interesting; unrest and uprising seemed to denote the tenor of the day. From the Freedom Riders to Woodstock, from Kent State to the radical protests of Buddhist monks, the world appeared embroiled in social activism. My tween and teen life, imbued with vapid pop culture figures and kitschy fads, paled by contrast. I wanted to march or participate in a sit-in, darn it.

I hadn’t thought about these feelings for a long time until the last few weeks. Egypt seems to have started the proverbial ball rolling, and since then a chain reaction has been set in motion.

Apparently, citizens of dictatorial regimes are no longer content to live in this way. Moreover, they aren’t willing to do so in the “global village” of an increasingly technologically rich era where they are made cognizant of conditions in the rest of the world and able to voice their own concerns. I told someone this week that it would be much less likely for the Holocaust to happen in these times because of Internet exposure. Indeed, one of the tactics Egypt employed to attempt to silence its people involved the shutdown of the Internet, especially those bothersome, powerful social media.

As a child, what I didn’t realize, however, was the great tragedy that marks many protests. The Freedom Riders, for instance, faced savage attacks and arrests. Those idealistic young massacred Kent State students originally had the potential for longevity. Those Buddhist monks must have been brave and unwavering in their convictions in order to ignite their flesh.

Accordingly, as the protests of late are starting to chip away at the chains of despotism, we see that the stakes are often high in the procurement of freedom, a valuable and worthy prize. As of Thursday, February 24, according to Associated Press (AP) reports, 365 people were dead and 5,500 injured in Egypt’s riots. That same day another AP report indicated that Ghadafi forces had taken action against the revolt in Libya, killing 17 people. Ploys to retain fascist control and bloodshed seem mutually inclusive.

At home, protestors are fighting their own battles. Wisconsin public workers are battling the government to retain benefits and collective bargaining rights. “We are the people and our voices must be heard!” one female protestor said, according to a Washington Post report. Similar protests are being echoed across America, including Tennessee, where teachers and other citizens are rallying in Nashville in a show of solidarity for education.

Our American history chronicles decades of protest movements, including the Labor Movement, Civil Rights, Suffrage, Peace, and Globalization. All of these protests are sanctioned, of course, by the one short clause in the 1^st Amendment that affords “the right of the people peaceably to assemble.” According to law, governments may impose “time, place, and manner regulations” but may not restrict the content of protests. Further, the government cannot impose regulation "substantially broader than necessary to achieve the government's interest."

Sometimes, though, one must be willing to concede in order to make substantial gains in protests, as Andrew Young, aide to Dr. Martin Luther King, said: “I learned from Martin Luther King that you have to do what you think is right and accept the consequences as they come. You can't do things to stay safe.”

Ultimately, what is just is not always safe, and those willing to acknowledge that fact and take those risks emerge daily in the battle. So, I come to find, despite what I once thought, I do live in exciting times after all.

This week I got an experiential, firsthand taste of Tennessee government. Early Wednesday morning a colleague of mine and I, along with scores of other Tennessee educators, packed the state capitol to make our presence known as advocates of true education reform—not the pseudo reform some of our state legislators are proposing.

The Tennessee Senate Education Committee, headed by Chairman Dolores Gresham (R-Somerville) was slated to meet at 10 a.m. to address one of the bills involving education reform. Although we arrived at 8 a.m., the small Senate chamber was already filled over capacity.

We stood outside in the crowded hallway as lawmakers set out to decide the future of one of several bills. This particular bill, SB 113, eliminates mandatory collective bargaining between teachers’ professional organizations and school boards regarding contract items such as salary, insurance, before and after school duties; along with other classroom-oriented issues such as class size, resources, and the like. School boards would have the ultimate say in whether or not to negotiate with employees.

Of the nine committee members, Senator Andy Berke (D-Chattanooga) was the most outspoken opponent of the bill. He suggested that such proposed legislation had little to do with education per se and more to do with opposition to unions. He held up a copy of The New York Times, pointing out the irony of the publication that same morning of an article which stressed the significance of teachers having a representative voice in the operation of the classroom in terms of student improvement and progress.

After some discussion on the bill, government relations director for the Tennessee Education Association (TEA), Jerry Winters, was allowed to speak. His comments were both logical and heartfelt. He refused to get embroiled in a debate over semantics regarding TEA as a union but suggested that the group is a professional organization consisting of teachers themselves, not an uninvolved middleman.

Winters urged legislators to avoid approving this bill, arguing that it skirts real demands teachers face in the classroom and the true obstacles to education reform. He pointed out the idealistic flaw in the logic of making the negotiations process a choice and the necessity of a collective voice by offering a true story regarding educators being forced to negotiate simply to obtain textbooks.

In the end, the committee’s vote on the bill passed, with six Republican senators voting in favor and three Democrats opposing. Of course, now the bill moves to a vote on the Senate floor and then on to the House of Representatives.

By lunchtime, as I sat with other educators, I felt overwhelmed and disheartened. It appears as if legislators are targeting teachers, and while I agree that not every person has the ability to be an outstanding teacher, I do not think that education woes plaguing our states and our nation are linked solely to teachers, the implication of some of the proposed legislation.

I love education—and have since I was a student—and want to see it flourish. I believe whole-heartedly that education can be the single biggest factor in the potential to change individuals’ lives.

I love my students. I want them to succeed. However, if we as a society and a government do not respect and support teachers and education in both word and deed, our educational system and its products are negatively impacted. By contrast, President Obama’s comments during his recent State of the Union address reveal a very telling aspect of Korea’s educational views: the Korean word for “teacher” means “nation-builder.” Until our lack of esteem for educators changes, we will continue as a nation to meet low, self-imposed expectations.

Most importantly, I believe in the power of public education. Everyone is invited to the table to partake, and those who are ravenous for learning may devour as much as they can hold. Knowledge and literacy and enlightenment are not relegated to an aristocratic sector of the population, an upper echelon, as they once were historically. What an amazing, democratic idea. I would like to see that it remains that way.

 Tennessee educators are under attack. Recent bills sponsored by a number of legislators seek to “reform” education in the state by removing the voice of educators in issues that impact them. The Senate Education Committee is set to take a stance Wednesday, February 16.

In short, these bills affect retirement benefits, the due process of tenure, and professional negotiations. Overall, they negatively impact education in Tennessee because they restrict the educator's role in representation and have a strong potential to limit the attraction of highly qualified candidates to the profession.

HB 130/SB 113 is the first of such bills. This legislation, sponsored by Rep. Debra Maggart (R-Hendersonville) and Sen. Jack Johnson (R-College Grove) would repeal the Professional Negotiations Law. Teachers in many counties and districts have historically had a voice when it came to aspects of governance that impacted them and their students, including safety, class size, planning time, access to resources and materials, to name a few.

This bill would remove teachers from that process and also eliminate contractual grievance procedures. The right to bargain is important, as it facilitates resolution without costly legal remediation. It also poses no problem whatsoever to education; thus, such a bill amounts to little more than a regression of employee rights.

HB 367, sponsored by Bill Dunn (R-Knoxville) changes the tenure process for Tennessee’s teachers. Teachers who are currently granted tenure and afforded the right of due process after three years of quality service would be, under this bill, granted tenure between the third and tenth years of service. Furthermore, as the bill reads, it “eliminates judicial review of decision to suspend or dismiss a teacher for incompetence, inefficiency, neglect of duty, unprofessional conduct or insubordination.”

In essence, this legislation would strip the current due process of tenure, which serves not to guarantee a teacher’s job, but to protect a teacher from dismissal based on mere personal agenda by ensuring that established protocol be followed before dismissal. This elimination in judicial review only serves to weaken job stability and therefore cripples the prospect of attracting exceptional candidates for the teaching profession in Tennessee.

And, finally—the third most crucial of five total scheduled items--SB 102, sponsored by Dolores Gresham (R-Somerville) would remove from the Tennessee Education Association and the Tennessee Retired Teachers Association, respectively, the right to elect teacher representatives on the Board of Trustees of the Tennessee Consolidated Retirement System (TCRS) representing teachers and retired teachers. As a result, TCRS representatives would be appointed by speakers of the Tennessee Senate and House of Representatives. This shift in representation is unfair to teachers, who contribute a 5% of gross salary, an amount fixed by law, to TCRS. To exclude teachers from this representation eradicates their voice in the administration of retirement benefits and makes TCRS Board of Trustees political appointments.

It is integral for educators to retain a voice in the decision-making process regarding Tennessee teacher retirement benefits, as discussion has surfaced regarding a shift from a Defined Benefit plan—TCRS takes the risk for investment, invests conservatively, and retirement benefits are guaranteed for life, regardless of investment gains or losses—to a Defined Contribution plan—retirement benefits are structured like a 401(k) plan and fluctuate based on stock market gains and losses. Tennessee’s retirement system, one of the top 10 retirement systems in the nation, is actuarialy sound, but if teachers lose representation on the TCRS Board, the future of their retirement benefits may be at risk as well.

Of course, these proposed legislative items directly impact teachers—both financially and professionally, but they also do absolutely nothing to enhance the state of education in Tennessee. In turn, how can they be labeled “reform”? If there are real problems in Tennessee’s education system, they reside elsewhere. Legislators have yet to target some of the real problems: lack of domestic support, limited resources, and the insistent but mistaken belief that test scores are summarily the best indicators of student progress, among others. Add to that the lack of real knowledge of what occurs in a live classroom, or how it functions, by those who are in charge of such legislation.

Therefore, I encourage anyone who can lend a voice to this discussion to contact your respective legislators to inform them what you think about this proposed legislation as soon as possible. The future of Tennessee education—in terms of attracting and retaining the best possible educators—depends upon it.

I have always enjoyed pithy quotations. Perhaps the fascination derives from a love of language and thought at an early age.

Even by early adolescence, one of my favorite books came from a flea market find. I don’t recall the exact purchase, but I probably obtained the scrubby copy of Elbert Hubbard’s Scrap Book for no more than a dollar.

Inside the front of the book, its purpose is explained: “Elbert Hubbard's Scrap Book Containing the Inspired and Inspiring Selections Gathered During a Life Time of Discriminating Reading For His Own Use -- Printed and Made Into a Book by the American Book-Stratford Press at Their Shops in New York City -- The Roycrofters – 1923.”

Hubbard’s book is full of not only quotes, but poems and sketches as well. One of the short pieces I recall includes an excerpt from Mark Twain’s posthumously published Letters from the Earth. Embittered and sarcastic in his final years, Twain lets his wit shine through. In this text of a few paragraphs, he literally play’s devil’s advocate by arguing a case for Satan’s lack of acceptance among humankind. Some of the best quotations in the book—and in general—often come from Mark Twain.

I often remember or seek out quotations, which I use in the signature line of e-mails I send. Last week, a friend complimented me on my use of quotations and inquired about their source, prompting me to ponder my preoccupation with them. Others apparently share this fascination. In fact, my boss, the principal at the high school where I teach English, strolls into my classroom occasionally to share some of his favorite quotations which he has happened to find by searching the Internet, in order to share them with me, and I always enjoy hearing them.

I never get tired of seeking out the terse but meaning-filled ideas composed and shared by others. As British Romantic poet John Keats once wrote in a letter, “Let him on a certain day read a certain page of full Poesy or distilled Prose, and let him wander upon it, and bring home to it, and prophesy upon it, and dream upon it: until it becomes stale—But when will it do so? Never—When Man has arrived at a certain ripeness in intellect any one grand and spiritual passage serves him as a starting-post towards all 'the two-and-thirty Palaces.' How happy is such a voyage of concentration, what delicious diligent Indolence!”

The following are a few of my favorite quotes:

• "Education consists mainly in what we have unlearned." — Mark  Twain 
• "Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper." — Robert Frost 
• "The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn." — Alvin  Toffler 
• "Art teaches nothing, except the significance of life." — Henry Miller 
• "To be an artist means never to avert your eyes." — Kurosawa 
• “You begin saving the world by saving one person at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.” — Charles Bukowski 
• "Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." — William Butler Yeats 
• "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." — Albert Einstein
• “The blues is an autobiographical chronicle of personal catastrophe expressed lyrically.” — Ralph Ellison 
• “I don't want to achieve immortality through my work... I want to achieve it through not dying." — Woody Allen 

Of course, my favorite quotations change as I read more and encounter different ideas and knowledge. Every so often I glean new insights, and thus, like exploring, like traveling, I get introduced to new places, new ideas, broader horizons.

Consequently, one of my very favorite quotes hails from one of my favorite writers, the aforementioned Mark Twain. Twain writes in his 1869 book Innocents Abroad, detailing his travels through Europe and the East, which I studied once in a graduate English seminar: "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”

Twain’s comment is excruciatingly truthful, and, so, along with seeking out worthwhile quotations, I also plan to take to heart his advice and travel as much as I can. I recommend both to anyone who has a mind and the means. 

The first time I visited New York City two years ago, I was instantly enamored. I agree with Woody Allen. In the opening montage of his classic film Manhattan, he incorporates Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” in the background, claiming that the city seems to pulsate to the sharp, staccato notes of the song.

Having visited, I concur. New York provides newness around every corner, much of it disjointed and incongruent—but pleasing all the same. In fact, much of it is pleasing because of its incongruity.

Stepping on a subway train to jaunt around Manhattan, for instance, is sometimes akin to stepping into a microcosm of the greater world outside. The ethnicities, the nationalities, are multiple. Even the language is surprising and interesting. Yes, one overhears a great deal of both English and Spanish, but there are many exceptions. Not only does the city host its share of immigrants, but it witnesses a constant influx of visitors who offer variety and flavor.

The cultural activities New York offers are numerous. It boasts over 500 art galleries, some of the most recognized theatre productions in the nation, and a dining experience that can itself be considered an art—with delights ranging from a savory street vendor hot dog to some of the best-ranked restaurants in the world.

A visit to just one art museum, which will take at least half a day, is worth the time. Traversing the Guggenheim’s spiral walkway to the top and back down is a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. Likewise, standing in front of a Warhol, Pollock, or Picasso at the Metropolitan or the Museum of Modern Art is breathtaking. Examining some of the works closely can reveal brush hairs remaining in the oils, as I saw in Picasso’s canvases.

Above all, one of my favorite portions of any vacation is the cuisine, and New York is one of the best places to eat. I tend to start at the bottom of the ranks and work my way up, so I have yet to dine in its finest restaurants, but I have consumed some of the best pizza that can be had. In fact, I would argue that it is difficult to purchase “bad” pizza in NYC. One of the best, Lombardi’s in downtown Soho, bills itself as the oldest pizzeria in America, started in 1897 by an Italian immigrant. I will vouch for the classic Italian margherita they serve. Even the free brick-oven personal pie offered with each drink purchase at the Gramercy neighborhood’s Crocodile Lounge, although plain, is not bad.

New York, of course, is famous for its delis. The best I have tasted I obtained from Katz’s Deli. Some might recognize its bustling atmosphere packed with diners seated at tables in the open area in front of the counter, as featured prominently in the famous “I’ll have what she’s having” scene from the 1989 movie “When Harry Met Sally.” I will say that if she’s having the scrumptious, oversized Reuben, stuffed full of kraut and cheese and melt-in-your-mouth corned beef piled high between two slices of toasted rye, count me in. Despite the slightly hefty $15 price tag, I’ll have what she’s having, too.

My greatest disappointment, however, was New Year’s Eve. On television, the event appears festive and uncomplicated, but as more than one New Yorker revealed, it is mostly attended by tourists. With good reason, New Yorkers have the good sense to remain home. In order to witness the official ball drop, there are one of two requirements: observers must either arrive in Times Square in the afternoon and remain there in a single spot, packed tightly without leaving for any reason whatsoever; or pay a few hundred dollars to attend a Times Square venue party that affords a view of the famed midnight event. Otherwise, it is impossible after a certain time to make it past police barricades along the streets into the Square to enter the gathered throng.

Nevertheless, the Big Apple is like no other. I plan to return during a time of year not so steeped with fellow tourists, perhaps spend a summer month sometime in the future. I feel akin to Allen’s protagonist as he describes him in the opening montage of the film “Manhattan: “New York was his town, and it always would be..." It is mine, too.