During the last year or so, all you had to do was mention “gas drilling” or “fracking” to anyone in the Potter, Bradford, or Tioga County region of Pennsylvania, and you’d be sure to get an earful. Everyone in the area has experiences, opinions, ideas, and concerns about the fact that we live smack-dab in the middle of the Marcellus Shale. “Marcellus Shale” refers to the geological formation from which energy companies are aggressively seeking to extract natural gas. The formation extends from the Catskills in New York, south and west through Pennsylvania, into West Virginia and Ohio.
What makes Stephanie Hamel’s experiences with gas drilling any different from yours or mine? In many ways, nothing – except she decided to take hers public. Hamel’s book, Gas Drilling and the Fracking of a Marriage, is a gift to all of us. In honest, thoughtful, bittersweet reflections, Stephanie shares the struggle she and her family went through, from September 2008, when they were offered a gas lease on their family land, until the book went to press in spring of 2011.
In many ways, Stephanie Hamel’s situation is no different from the story of most people living in the Marcellus Shale region. Stephanie is a wife who is concerned about the current threat to her husband’s job, a mother of two young boys, a landowner who would like to be able to put more money into her dreams for the land. Hamel, however, also has the training that gives her a special perspective on the environmental concerns at play here. Stephanie – that is, Dr. Hamel – earned her B.S. in Chemistry from Grove City College; her M.S. in Chemistry from Lehigh University; and a Joint Ph.D. in “Exposure Assessment” from Rutgers University and the Robert Wood Johnson Medical School. She has also done post-graduate research in the Department of Plant Sciences at Rutgers. She is a chemist who loves soil, the land, and people. She has studied extensively about the chemicals we use and the effects they have on our bodies.
Though Hamel’s background as a scientist and a researcher give her a distinctly more academic approach to looking at a problem, she nevertheless decided to write this book from a very personal viewpoint.
As Stephanie explains in her “Notes and Disclaimers” at the beginning of her book, “This is a true story, written first in diary form and in notes taken during telephone conversations… [it] reflects a developing knowledge of the natural gas industry and the legalities associated with land ownership and gas leasing.”
The story opens with Stephanie’s email to her friend, Frank, a colleague from Rutgers who works with the DEP in New Jersey, whose background is hydrogeology. Despite distractions from busy little boys, loads of laundry, this first email outlines the Hamel family’s situation in September 2008 quite succinctly:
“… Two weeks ago, Tom and I were offered $2,500 an acre to lease our natural gas rights up in Wellsboro. The whole of northern PA is singing the Hallelujah Chorus because there is gas under our land, and it is now economically feasible to drill. There is a well within 0.50 miles of my property and I listened to the drilling during my quiet, reflective time – HA! – this summer; there are two more wells within a two mile radius.
"Everyone in the area is seeing dollar signs and is signing up as fast as the lease agreement arrives on the doorstep. Tom Hamel has the unfortunate luck of being married to the only one who regards this windfall as a curse. Frank, it is very easy for me to criticize unrestrained fossil fuel consumption, but it is much more challenging to put my money where my mouth is when a large sum of money is at stake….”
One thing I love about Stephanie is that she doesn’t shirk from discussing the hard truths of our own inherent contradictions, when we strive to be both stewards and consumers; activists with principles, yet humans with wants and needs. Stephanie has both a wry sense of humor and a critical eye on her own hypocrisy. One of my favorite scenes showing Stephanie’s humor is her example of the gas grill she proudly rescued from the landfill. For a few dollars, she fixed the bad burner, pleased to reduce, reuse, recycle – that is, until she walked out on her back porch after writing, and recognized with shock what powered that grill.
Hamel writes with clarity and acute self-awareness about the acronym that all people working in the environmental field learn – NIMBY, “Not In My Backyard”. We all understand the need for finding more energy, having a landfill, building a new highway: we just want it to happen somewhere else.
As the book unfolds, there are times that you, the reader, may be as frustrated with Stephanie’s analyzing as her husband is; where you may be as confused by Stephanie’s circuitous thoughts as Stephanie herself is. There are certainly times when you may want to shout, “Just get on with it! Decide!” You may be tempted to skip to the end to find out what the Hamels ultimately decided. Don’t do it. Life is not lived that way. Hard decisions are made the way Stephanie writes about this. Experience this journey with her, even if you have already experienced it in your own home, on your own land. If you have already struggled with this, you’ll find validation. If you haven’t, you’ll find sympathy and a better understanding for your neighbors who are dealing with.
Let other books about gas drilling be for angry recriminations, for stirring up self-righteousness on one side of the fence or the other, for black-or-white answers. Stephanie’s book is about the struggle to do what is right for oneself, for one’s family, for one’s land, for the community… the earth … the environment … and what to do when those loyalties are at loggerheads. What I love most about Stephanie’s tone is her honesty, her rueful look at her own foibles and contradictions, which definitely hold up a mirror to show us our own. Ultimately, this is not an easy issue, and Stephanie’s book honors that.
Showing posts with label memoir. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memoir. Show all posts
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Sunday, October 25, 2009
A Tasty Memoir
I realize that it’s no longer en vogue to be a Francophile; these days, France is more likely to be the punchline for a joke about military history or about culture snobs than it is to be the focus of an article singing her praises. I, however, will always have a big mushy spot in my heart for the French language, as well as for the food, film, art, poetry, travel…. Okay, I know; you get the point. After the intensity of The Laramie Project, I needed something sweet and light to read. Quelle bonne chance for me, I picked up My Life in France. Published in 2006, this lovely memoir was written near the end of Julia’s life, with the help of her grandnephew Alex Prud’homme (husband Paul’s twin brother was Alex’s grandfather).
Julia Child’s memoir is different from most contemporary memoirs in several ways. First of all, unlike many books published by celebrity personalities, this memoir is truly the reflecting-back-on a long, interesting and celebrated life, in sharp contrast to the narcissistic, voyeuristic “memoirs” of people in their thirties or forties which Hollywood pushes to the bestseller list now. To be honest, I could care less about Jon & Kate or Tori Spelling, and if I really need to know about their lives thus far, magazine articles in People or Entertainment Weekly usually suffice.
That criticism of Hollywood being noted, it is important to recognize it was television that brought Julia Child to America’s attention – first, with the introduction of her cooking show, “The French Chef”, in 1963; and then again, with the film, Julie & Julia, just this past August, 2009. As much as I am often leery of the way a film adaptation may ruin a great book, I’m also grateful to have wonderful books brought to national attention again by the promotion of a film version. Such is the case with Julia Child. I never saw Child on TV; my family, as far as I can remember, did not own a copy of any of her cookbooks, although my dad does have an old copy of Larousse Gastronomique floating around the house, which he occasionally gets down and looks through longingly. The re-introduction of Julia Child to my generation, especially through all the hoopla for this film, was a gift to me, since it encouraged me to pick up a memoir I might otherwise have ignored.
Another tremendous difference between Child’s memoir and so many others which regularly populate bestseller lists and book club choices is Child’s upbeat perspective. Although I really appreciate memoir, a basic fact of the genre – of solid storytelling in general – is that conflict and strife make for interesting reading. Remember that plot structure diagram from English class? Sure, that diagram was mostly to teach us about fiction, but fiction imitates life, and life is certainly full of difficulties. Memoirs don’t need to invent problems for their characters; the problems are part of these people’s true stories.
What continued to strike me as I read My Life in France is the uplifting tone: it’s not as if she and Paul didn’t have problems or stress or sadness, because they did. During their early time in France, especially, they had very little money (a middle-level diplomatic position in France in the late 1940s did NOT pay much). Their apartment had no hot water in the kitchen, no central heating, and bad wiring. Paul Child’s job was full of stressors, as he tried to organize, staff and work out of an office that had few resources, in a France trying to recover from the ravages of World War II. Nevertheless, Julia and Paul were happy, believing that “marriage and advancing age agreed” with them, affirming that they were “giddy about Paris.” Paul Child continued to credit his wife for “his new outlook on life. ‘I am less sour now than I used to be,’ he admitted. ‘It’s because of you, Julie.’” Even in her nineties, as she recalled her life to Alex Prud’homme, it is obvious that the phrase joie de vivre was invented to describe Julia Child. It is marvelous to read the thoughts of someone who loved life so much, when many memoirs are either heartbreaking or insipid.
In the land of the 5-minute lunch instead of the five-course dinner, in the time of the Blackberry instead of blackberry wine sauce, can we still enjoy “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”? Well, I haven’t had had a used copy at the bookstore, of either volume, for months, and ordering a used copy online costs just as much as a new one – if not a great deal more, especially if you want an older edition. I guess I know what to get my dad for Christmas, though; Julia Child embarked on her cookbook in order to bring French food to those who moon over Larousse Gastronomique. “Bon appétit”, America.
Pommes frites or French fries? Hobo doesn’t eat frogs, but he does appreciate his gourmet food as much as the next fat cat. He’ll have you know his book has traveled to France at least twice now! He’s not a culture snob, though; he’s just a wandering Hobo who found a home. Follow Hobo’s home and kitchen tips at his weekly blog at http://frommyshelf.blogspot.com or share yours with him at frommyshelf@epix.net.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
"Surviving" Summer Reading
Kasey Cox
While the kids, parents, and teachers are counting down the last few days of school, bookstores and libraries are getting ready for the influx of questions about books for summer reading. Most kids have summer reading that they’re “supposed to” do, whether by parental encouragement or by teacher mandate. For the lucky kids, this summer reading is not a chore, because they’ve discovered the joy of the reading. For other students, reading is more difficult, but I’m a firm believer that people just need to find a story that interests them. One of the first questions I ask reluctant readers is: “What do you like? What are you most interested in?” I don’t mind if the answer is a game or a TV show, since we can still work with that. I want to know what they like about that story – because there’s the hook.
One book which reigns high on the list of hooks for reluctant readers is Gary Paulsen’s young adult novel, Hatchet. This Newbury Honor book had its 20th birthday in 2007, and at that point, it had sold over 4.5 million copies. Hatchet is the story of Brian, a teen boy whose parents have recently divorced. He’s headed to northern Canada to spend the summer with his father, a mechanical engineer working with oil companies in remote locations. For the last leg of the trip, it’s just Brian and the pilot of the little Cessna. They crash. Brian has next to nothing to use for survival, except a hatchet. It’s a great story, the kind of story many of us find ourselves caught up in, whether it’s Tom Hanks marooned in the movie Castaway, or silly old TV series like Gilligan’s Island, or more gruesome events from history like the Donner Party. We like survival stories – adrift at sea, settling the prairies, captured as a prisoner of war, crashing in the mountains.
We’re lucky, then, to have so many stories like this to read (even if the people in the stories aren’t always so lucky). History itself is filled with such stories, especially American history, as our ancestor immigrants carved out new lives in harsh, strange places. And then there are the people who like to live even closer to the edge, the mountaineers and the extreme sports enthusiasts. In searching for more stories like this, I recently found Norman Ollestad’s memoir, Crazy for the Storm. Norman’s experience at age 11 reads like a version of Paulsen’s Hatchet. The book opens with the crash scene – Norman, 11; his father, 43; Dad’s girlfriend, Sandra, 30; and the pilot of a little Cessna, crash into the San Gabriel Mountains in California during a storm. At 8,600 feet, on steep slopes of almost shear ice, Norman is the only one left uninjured. His father and the pilot are dead. Sandra is gravely injured. It’s snowing. I won’t tell you the details that Norman relays in what people are lauding as beautiful, terse, Hemingway-esque prose, chapter by chapter, as he got down the mountain. I will tell you I couldn’t put the book down. I honestly read it in one sitting, from the middle of a sunny Sunday afternoon until late that night. I had to know how he did it.
Norman attributes his survival to his relationship with his father. In alternating chapters, this well-crafted memoir takes 11 year old Norman down the mountain, and relates growing up with his father who was constantly pushing him to surf, ski, play hockey, and hike remote areas almost as soon as he could walk. I have to admit, at first I was annoyed with the chapters reminiscing about younger life with Dad, living on the infamous Topanga Beach in the 1970’s, a crazy drive through Baja California. I wanted to get back to the mountain survival chapters. As I continued to read, however, I realized that young Norman’s experiences with his father – from being strapped to his father’s back as a toddler while Dad went surfing, to being ferried constantly to black diamond ski slopes for competitions – WERE part of his journey down that mountain.
So, if the kids are clamoring to see the twenty-third reincarnation of “Terminator” this week at the Arcadia, maybe you should let them go. Then you can use that as a segue to read and talk about some great books together. Challenge yourself and your family to have adventures together this summer, both on the page and in the outdoors.
Hobo likes hiking, but spelunking scares him. He’ll be helping kids survive summer reading by making some appearances at the bookstore. Watch for his schedule at his blog: http://frommyshelf.blogspot.com. Surf on by to see him.
While the kids, parents, and teachers are counting down the last few days of school, bookstores and libraries are getting ready for the influx of questions about books for summer reading. Most kids have summer reading that they’re “supposed to” do, whether by parental encouragement or by teacher mandate. For the lucky kids, this summer reading is not a chore, because they’ve discovered the joy of the reading. For other students, reading is more difficult, but I’m a firm believer that people just need to find a story that interests them. One of the first questions I ask reluctant readers is: “What do you like? What are you most interested in?” I don’t mind if the answer is a game or a TV show, since we can still work with that. I want to know what they like about that story – because there’s the hook.
One book which reigns high on the list of hooks for reluctant readers is Gary Paulsen’s young adult novel, Hatchet. This Newbury Honor book had its 20th birthday in 2007, and at that point, it had sold over 4.5 million copies. Hatchet is the story of Brian, a teen boy whose parents have recently divorced. He’s headed to northern Canada to spend the summer with his father, a mechanical engineer working with oil companies in remote locations. For the last leg of the trip, it’s just Brian and the pilot of the little Cessna. They crash. Brian has next to nothing to use for survival, except a hatchet. It’s a great story, the kind of story many of us find ourselves caught up in, whether it’s Tom Hanks marooned in the movie Castaway, or silly old TV series like Gilligan’s Island, or more gruesome events from history like the Donner Party. We like survival stories – adrift at sea, settling the prairies, captured as a prisoner of war, crashing in the mountains.
We’re lucky, then, to have so many stories like this to read (even if the people in the stories aren’t always so lucky). History itself is filled with such stories, especially American history, as our ancestor immigrants carved out new lives in harsh, strange places. And then there are the people who like to live even closer to the edge, the mountaineers and the extreme sports enthusiasts. In searching for more stories like this, I recently found Norman Ollestad’s memoir, Crazy for the Storm. Norman’s experience at age 11 reads like a version of Paulsen’s Hatchet. The book opens with the crash scene – Norman, 11; his father, 43; Dad’s girlfriend, Sandra, 30; and the pilot of a little Cessna, crash into the San Gabriel Mountains in California during a storm. At 8,600 feet, on steep slopes of almost shear ice, Norman is the only one left uninjured. His father and the pilot are dead. Sandra is gravely injured. It’s snowing. I won’t tell you the details that Norman relays in what people are lauding as beautiful, terse, Hemingway-esque prose, chapter by chapter, as he got down the mountain. I will tell you I couldn’t put the book down. I honestly read it in one sitting, from the middle of a sunny Sunday afternoon until late that night. I had to know how he did it.
Norman attributes his survival to his relationship with his father. In alternating chapters, this well-crafted memoir takes 11 year old Norman down the mountain, and relates growing up with his father who was constantly pushing him to surf, ski, play hockey, and hike remote areas almost as soon as he could walk. I have to admit, at first I was annoyed with the chapters reminiscing about younger life with Dad, living on the infamous Topanga Beach in the 1970’s, a crazy drive through Baja California. I wanted to get back to the mountain survival chapters. As I continued to read, however, I realized that young Norman’s experiences with his father – from being strapped to his father’s back as a toddler while Dad went surfing, to being ferried constantly to black diamond ski slopes for competitions – WERE part of his journey down that mountain.
So, if the kids are clamoring to see the twenty-third reincarnation of “Terminator” this week at the Arcadia, maybe you should let them go. Then you can use that as a segue to read and talk about some great books together. Challenge yourself and your family to have adventures together this summer, both on the page and in the outdoors.
Hobo likes hiking, but spelunking scares him. He’ll be helping kids survive summer reading by making some appearances at the bookstore. Watch for his schedule at his blog: http://frommyshelf.blogspot.com. Surf on by to see him.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Relay for Life, Seasons of Life
Kasey Cox
We are coming into the season where local Relay for Life teams start kicking it into high gear, raising money and getting ready for the big event. Mansfield’s Relay for Life is on June 28 this year, and Wellsboro’s follows soon after on July 11. I always keep tabs on the Relay activities, and try to donate as much as I can. I feel a real kinship to cancer patients and their families, although I have never had cancer myself, nor has anyone in my immediate family. Why would I feel so connected to this cause, this journey that people take when they or someone they love is diagnosed with cancer?
Professor, popular lecturer, and recent author Randy Pausch provides an answer. Like the Lance Armstrong yellow plastic bracelets reminding people to “Live Strong”, Pausch’s book “The Last Lecture” focuses his message on LIVING. This most recent of inspirational books to top the bestseller lists, “The Last Lecture” is a true story, unfolding even as you read it, of a young professor, husband, and father, who has written this book as a lasting legacy to those he leaves behind. Pausch has stage four, terminal, pancreatic cancer that has significantly metastasized into his liver. Most likely, by the time most of us are getting out our winter coats again, he will be gone. Unfortunately, as many people involved with the Relay for Life will tell you, Pausch’s story is not unusual. We could read many books that would be variations of what is happening to Randy Pausch and his family. What’s different about “The Last Lecture” is the framework of the book and what Pausch has chosen to say.
The premise for his book, as well as the title, comes from a hypothetical question posed to many professors to be the basis of a lecture: what would you say to this audience if you knew this were your last chance to share your wisdom? For Pausch, this question is no longer an academic exercise, no longer in the realm of “what-if”. The fact that there are many “last lecture” series given on campuses intrigued Pausch, even as he began to plan for the unthinkable – that his youngest child may not remember spending time with her father.
So, the last lecture that Pausch delivered on September 18, 2007, focused on “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams”. A lot of the advice he shared – keeping a childlike wonder in looking at the world, thinking outside the box, accepting constructive criticism, accepting help, being the kind of person people want to help, the importance of persistence – is not new, but boy, does it sound different coming from someone who has achieved as much as Pausch, and who is facing death sooner than he ever thought.
Books like this run the high risk of being too maudlin, or overly trite, coming across like a melodramatic country song or a bad Lifetime Channel movie. I began reading “The Last Lecture” hesitantly, fearing I’d be pulling out the waders or the Kleenex too soon. I was pleasantly surprised at how upbeat Randy Pausch’s perspective is, and how practical his advice. The book itself is a quick read: after the first few chapters which set the stage and give the background to this story, the chapters are short, each one summarizing a lesson he wants to share. It would easy to zip through this book and think, “oh, that’s a sad story, with some good advice from a nice, intelligent man.” I think it’s actually best to let Randy Pausch pull you quickly through the first time you read his last lecture. But then make certain you go back through with the proverbial fine-tooth comb. Read one chapter, ruminate, talk with your family and friends about it, journal about it, apply it to working with your colleagues for a week and see what happens. Then bite into a little more. You’ll find that Pausch’s honed abilities as a professor have allowed him to organize and synthesis a lot of information into small packages, but each package, when opened, has a huge gift inside. Ultimately, there are a ton of gifts packed into this little book.
Why do we cheer for folks with cancer? For that matter, why are those country songs and Lifetime movies so popular, why do the stories about people who are struggling with a terminal illness touch us so much? For me, it’s not to sit down and have a good cry, although that sometimes happens. What’s most important is the reminder to live well, as Pausch says, “with the cards you’ve been dealt.”
We are coming into the season where local Relay for Life teams start kicking it into high gear, raising money and getting ready for the big event. Mansfield’s Relay for Life is on June 28 this year, and Wellsboro’s follows soon after on July 11. I always keep tabs on the Relay activities, and try to donate as much as I can. I feel a real kinship to cancer patients and their families, although I have never had cancer myself, nor has anyone in my immediate family. Why would I feel so connected to this cause, this journey that people take when they or someone they love is diagnosed with cancer?
Professor, popular lecturer, and recent author Randy Pausch provides an answer. Like the Lance Armstrong yellow plastic bracelets reminding people to “Live Strong”, Pausch’s book “The Last Lecture” focuses his message on LIVING. This most recent of inspirational books to top the bestseller lists, “The Last Lecture” is a true story, unfolding even as you read it, of a young professor, husband, and father, who has written this book as a lasting legacy to those he leaves behind. Pausch has stage four, terminal, pancreatic cancer that has significantly metastasized into his liver. Most likely, by the time most of us are getting out our winter coats again, he will be gone. Unfortunately, as many people involved with the Relay for Life will tell you, Pausch’s story is not unusual. We could read many books that would be variations of what is happening to Randy Pausch and his family. What’s different about “The Last Lecture” is the framework of the book and what Pausch has chosen to say.
The premise for his book, as well as the title, comes from a hypothetical question posed to many professors to be the basis of a lecture: what would you say to this audience if you knew this were your last chance to share your wisdom? For Pausch, this question is no longer an academic exercise, no longer in the realm of “what-if”. The fact that there are many “last lecture” series given on campuses intrigued Pausch, even as he began to plan for the unthinkable – that his youngest child may not remember spending time with her father.
So, the last lecture that Pausch delivered on September 18, 2007, focused on “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams”. A lot of the advice he shared – keeping a childlike wonder in looking at the world, thinking outside the box, accepting constructive criticism, accepting help, being the kind of person people want to help, the importance of persistence – is not new, but boy, does it sound different coming from someone who has achieved as much as Pausch, and who is facing death sooner than he ever thought.
Books like this run the high risk of being too maudlin, or overly trite, coming across like a melodramatic country song or a bad Lifetime Channel movie. I began reading “The Last Lecture” hesitantly, fearing I’d be pulling out the waders or the Kleenex too soon. I was pleasantly surprised at how upbeat Randy Pausch’s perspective is, and how practical his advice. The book itself is a quick read: after the first few chapters which set the stage and give the background to this story, the chapters are short, each one summarizing a lesson he wants to share. It would easy to zip through this book and think, “oh, that’s a sad story, with some good advice from a nice, intelligent man.” I think it’s actually best to let Randy Pausch pull you quickly through the first time you read his last lecture. But then make certain you go back through with the proverbial fine-tooth comb. Read one chapter, ruminate, talk with your family and friends about it, journal about it, apply it to working with your colleagues for a week and see what happens. Then bite into a little more. You’ll find that Pausch’s honed abilities as a professor have allowed him to organize and synthesis a lot of information into small packages, but each package, when opened, has a huge gift inside. Ultimately, there are a ton of gifts packed into this little book.
Why do we cheer for folks with cancer? For that matter, why are those country songs and Lifetime movies so popular, why do the stories about people who are struggling with a terminal illness touch us so much? For me, it’s not to sit down and have a good cry, although that sometimes happens. What’s most important is the reminder to live well, as Pausch says, “with the cards you’ve been dealt.”
Relay for Life, Seasons of Life
Kasey Cox
We are coming into the season where local Relay for Life teams start kicking it into high gear, raising money and getting ready for the big event. Mansfield’s Relay for Life is on June 28 this year, and Wellsboro’s follows soon after on July 11. I always keep tabs on the Relay activities, and try to donate as much as I can. I feel a real kinship to cancer patients and their families, although I have never had cancer myself, nor has anyone in my immediate family. Why would I feel so connected to this cause, this journey that people take when they or someone they love is diagnosed with cancer?
Professor, popular lecturer, and recent author Randy Pausch provides an answer. Like the Lance Armstrong yellow plastic bracelets reminding people to “Live Strong”, Pausch’s book “The Last Lecture” focuses his message on LIVING. This most recent of inspirational books to top the bestseller lists, “The Last Lecture” is a true story, unfolding even as you read it, of a young professor, husband, and father, who has written this book as a lasting legacy to those he leaves behind. Pausch has stage four, terminal, pancreatic cancer that has significantly metastasized into his liver. Most likely, by the time most of us are getting out our winter coats again, he will be gone. Unfortunately, as many people involved with the Relay for Life will tell you, Pausch’s story is not unusual. We could read many books that would be variations of what is happening to Randy Pausch and his family. What’s different about “The Last Lecture” is the framework of the book and what Pausch has chosen to say.
The premise for his book, as well as the title, comes from a hypothetical question posed to many professors to be the basis of a lecture: what would you say to this audience if you knew this were your last chance to share your wisdom? For Pausch, this question is no longer an academic exercise, no longer in the realm of “what-if”. The fact that there are many “last lecture” series given on campuses intrigued Pausch, even as he began to plan for the unthinkable – that his youngest child may not remember spending time with her father.
So, the last lecture that Pausch delivered on September 18, 2007, focused on “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams”. A lot of the advice he shared – keeping a childlike wonder in looking at the world, thinking outside the box, accepting constructive criticism, accepting help, being the kind of person people want to help, the importance of persistence – is not new, but boy, does it sound different coming from someone who has achieved as much as Pausch, and who is facing death sooner than he ever thought.
Books like this run the high risk of being too maudlin, or overly trite, coming across like a melodramatic country song or a bad Lifetime Channel movie. I began reading “The Last Lecture” hesitantly, fearing I’d be pulling out the waders or the Kleenex too soon. I was pleasantly surprised at how upbeat Randy Pausch’s perspective is, and how practical his advice. The book itself is a quick read: after the first few chapters which set the stage and give the background to this story, the chapters are short, each one summarizing a lesson he wants to share. It would easy to zip through this book and think, “oh, that’s a sad story, with some good advice from a nice, intelligent man.” I think it’s actually best to let Randy Pausch pull you quickly through the first time you read his last lecture. But then make certain you go back through with the proverbial fine-tooth comb. Read one chapter, ruminate, talk with your family and friends about it, journal about it, apply it to working with your colleagues for a week and see what happens. Then bite into a little more. You’ll find that Pausch’s honed abilities as a professor have allowed him to organize and synthesis a lot of information into small packages, but each package, when opened, has a huge gift inside. Ultimately, there are a ton of gifts packed into this little book.
Why do we cheer for folks with cancer? For that matter, why are those country songs and Lifetime movies so popular, why do the stories about people who are struggling with a terminal illness touch us so much? For me, it’s not to sit down and have a good cry, although that sometimes happens. What’s most important is the reminder to live well, as Pausch says, “with the cards you’ve been dealt.”
We are coming into the season where local Relay for Life teams start kicking it into high gear, raising money and getting ready for the big event. Mansfield’s Relay for Life is on June 28 this year, and Wellsboro’s follows soon after on July 11. I always keep tabs on the Relay activities, and try to donate as much as I can. I feel a real kinship to cancer patients and their families, although I have never had cancer myself, nor has anyone in my immediate family. Why would I feel so connected to this cause, this journey that people take when they or someone they love is diagnosed with cancer?
Professor, popular lecturer, and recent author Randy Pausch provides an answer. Like the Lance Armstrong yellow plastic bracelets reminding people to “Live Strong”, Pausch’s book “The Last Lecture” focuses his message on LIVING. This most recent of inspirational books to top the bestseller lists, “The Last Lecture” is a true story, unfolding even as you read it, of a young professor, husband, and father, who has written this book as a lasting legacy to those he leaves behind. Pausch has stage four, terminal, pancreatic cancer that has significantly metastasized into his liver. Most likely, by the time most of us are getting out our winter coats again, he will be gone. Unfortunately, as many people involved with the Relay for Life will tell you, Pausch’s story is not unusual. We could read many books that would be variations of what is happening to Randy Pausch and his family. What’s different about “The Last Lecture” is the framework of the book and what Pausch has chosen to say.
The premise for his book, as well as the title, comes from a hypothetical question posed to many professors to be the basis of a lecture: what would you say to this audience if you knew this were your last chance to share your wisdom? For Pausch, this question is no longer an academic exercise, no longer in the realm of “what-if”. The fact that there are many “last lecture” series given on campuses intrigued Pausch, even as he began to plan for the unthinkable – that his youngest child may not remember spending time with her father.
So, the last lecture that Pausch delivered on September 18, 2007, focused on “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams”. A lot of the advice he shared – keeping a childlike wonder in looking at the world, thinking outside the box, accepting constructive criticism, accepting help, being the kind of person people want to help, the importance of persistence – is not new, but boy, does it sound different coming from someone who has achieved as much as Pausch, and who is facing death sooner than he ever thought.
Books like this run the high risk of being too maudlin, or overly trite, coming across like a melodramatic country song or a bad Lifetime Channel movie. I began reading “The Last Lecture” hesitantly, fearing I’d be pulling out the waders or the Kleenex too soon. I was pleasantly surprised at how upbeat Randy Pausch’s perspective is, and how practical his advice. The book itself is a quick read: after the first few chapters which set the stage and give the background to this story, the chapters are short, each one summarizing a lesson he wants to share. It would easy to zip through this book and think, “oh, that’s a sad story, with some good advice from a nice, intelligent man.” I think it’s actually best to let Randy Pausch pull you quickly through the first time you read his last lecture. But then make certain you go back through with the proverbial fine-tooth comb. Read one chapter, ruminate, talk with your family and friends about it, journal about it, apply it to working with your colleagues for a week and see what happens. Then bite into a little more. You’ll find that Pausch’s honed abilities as a professor have allowed him to organize and synthesis a lot of information into small packages, but each package, when opened, has a huge gift inside. Ultimately, there are a ton of gifts packed into this little book.
Why do we cheer for folks with cancer? For that matter, why are those country songs and Lifetime movies so popular, why do the stories about people who are struggling with a terminal illness touch us so much? For me, it’s not to sit down and have a good cry, although that sometimes happens. What’s most important is the reminder to live well, as Pausch says, “with the cards you’ve been dealt.”
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