Category: Granite Views

The stores are full of patriotic paraphernalia right now. I can skip past the metallic flag pinwheels; the red, white and blue wreaths; even the super-fuzzy flag blanket. But anything emblazoned with “America the Beautiful”? I start singing.

Katherine Lee Bates wrote the poem that would become the lyrics of our unofficial national anthem in 1893, inspired by the vista from Pikes Peak in Colorado. Samuel Augustus Ward had composed the melody earlier and in 1910 the words and music were wed. To me as a kid, “America the Beautiful” ranked right up there in holiness with “Silent Night.” Fifty years later at a family reunion I shivered with emotion as we cousins from across the country sang it together. Imagine my delight during this year of division when I stumbled on a new rendition by New Hampshire folk musician Steve Schuch. Weaving together Bates’ words and others inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Schuch and collaborators created a version that seeks to unite all ages, colors, religions and voices, a vision of America for everyone. You can listen and download sheet music at americathedream.org.

Another iteration of “America the Beautiful” is in a recent report recommending how to meet President Biden’s ambitious “30 by 30” environmental goal. Biden’s challenge to Americans is to conserve at least 30 percent of our lands and waters by 2030. Although the report describes principles rather than plans, one step endorsed is creation of a Civilian Climate Corps. Echoing FDR’s Civilian Conservation Corps, Biden’s program would put a new, diverse generation of Americans to work in well-paid jobs that restore the environment and build community resilience to climate extremes. Unlike the original CCC, Biden’s would include women and people of color.

I hiked Mt. Pemigewasset last week. It’s a popular mountain in Franconia Notch, not as rigorous as the towering 4,000-footers but high enough to provide a spectacular vista. Stepping out of pine forest onto bare ledges near the summit sent strains of “America the Beautiful” pulsing through me. According to New Hampshire’s 52 with a View: A Hiker’s Guide, Frank O. Carpenter wrote about this “striking view” and the “rugged shoulders of LaFayette” in his own guidebook in 1898, not long after Bates penned her anthemic poem. In the 1930s, Roosevelt’s CCC cleared hiking and ski trails in this area, enabling generations to appreciate New Hampshire’s beauty.

I’m grateful to those who inspire me with their words and music and to those who have protected some of our lands and waters. I am hopeful that a new generation of much more environment-concerned Americans can lead the way in meeting the 30 percent by 2030 challenge. That’s the Americana I buy.

The stores are full of patriotic paraphernalia right now. I can skip past the metallic flag pinwheels; the red, white and blue wreaths; even the super-fuzzy flag blanket. But anything emblazoned with “America the Beautiful”? I start singing.

Katherine Lee Bates wrote the poem that would become the lyrics of our unofficial national anthem in 1893, inspired by the vista from Pikes Peak in Colorado. Samuel Augustus Ward had composed the melody earlier and in 1910 the words and music were wed. To me as a kid, “America the Beautiful” ranked right up there in holiness with “Silent Night.” Fifty years later at a family reunion I shivered with emotion as we cousins from across the country sang it together. Imagine my delight during this year of division when I stumbled on a new rendition by New Hampshire folk musician Steve Schuch. Weaving together Bates’ words and others inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Schuch and collaborators created a version that seeks to unite all ages, colors, religions and voices, a vision of America for everyone. You can listen and download sheet music at americathedream.org.

Another iteration of “America the Beautiful” is in a recent report recommending how to meet President Biden’s ambitious “30 by 30” environmental goal. Biden’s challenge to Americans is to conserve at least 30 percent of our lands and waters by 2030. Although the report describes principles rather than plans, one step endorsed is creation of a Civilian Climate Corps. Echoing FDR’s Civilian Conservation Corps, Biden’s program would put a new, diverse generation of Americans to work in well-paid jobs that restore the environment and build community resilience to climate extremes. Unlike the original CCC, Biden’s would include women and people of color.

I hiked Mt. Pemigewasset last week. It’s a popular mountain in Franconia Notch, not as rigorous as the towering 4,000-footers but high enough to provide a spectacular vista. Stepping out of pine forest onto bare ledges near the summit sent strains of “America the Beautiful” pulsing through me. According to New Hampshire’s 52 with a View: A Hiker’s Guide, Frank O. Carpenter wrote about this “striking view” and the “rugged shoulders of LaFayette” in his own guidebook in 1898, not long after Bates penned her anthemic poem. In the 1930s, Roosevelt’s CCC cleared hiking and ski trails in this area, enabling generations to appreciate New Hampshire’s beauty.

I’m grateful to those who inspire me with their words and music and to those who have protected some of our lands and waters. I am hopeful that a new generation of much more environment-concerned Americans can lead the way in meeting the 30 percent by 2030 challenge. That’s the Americana I buy.

New Hampshire towns and cities will get a little over $558 million from President Joe Biden’s stimulus legislation passed in March. The question many have been asking — including the towns themselves — is what they should do with the money. In Manchester, the city is asking for suggestions.

There are many needs but since the money is a one-time windfall my hope is that it would be used to invest in areas where we’ll see long-term return. Housing is one of those areas.

Working through nonprofits and for-profit developers, towns could strategically help fund housing with seed money. With rents hitting $2,000 or more for a two-bedroom apartment in southern New Hampshire, it’s clear that more housing is needed. Building and renovating older buildings is very expensive and developers can’t be blamed for building more market-rate rentals. This is where that stimulus money could come into play. Local governments could provide grants to builders to help them finance projects where a portion of the units are rented at below-market rates for a number of years. Similarly local governments could use those funds to help nonprofit housing organizations develop more housing both as rentals and to sell at below-market rates.

Good housing builds communities. People feel vested and look out for each other and the neighborhood. This all helps to deter crime and build safer and stronger cities.

In addition to building or redeveloping more affordable housing, towns could use the money to help folks struggling to find housing with security deposits and temporary rental assistance.

In addition to housing, transportation remains a significant barrier to a better life. Without a car in New Hampshire, it’s very difficult to get a job, to get to medical appointments or to get kids to activities. Though investing in public transportation makes some sense in denser areas, our state’s rural characteristics make public transportation limited in how it can help. Using an existing organization, such as Good News Garage, towns could help families get reliable transportation and that would help more people get back on their feet.

Towns could also use these funds to help expand access to quality day care centers by helping centers expand or offering temporary vouchers to parents who can’t afford the care and who won’t have access to state funds. Let’s make good use of these funds so that they are not a handout but a hand up and will create opportunity and a safer community.

Imagine a world where parents go off to work and then know their kids are well cared for and safe. That’s my world. We’ve been lucky enough to find quality day care and have the means to pay for it. But not everyone is so fortunate.

Child care many times gets shunted aside as an afterthought in trying to build a more competitive country. But it’s critical.

One of the main issues that employers grapple with now is hiring parents who lack good and affordable child care. This is a double whammy. It prevents parents from getting the best jobs they can and prevents companies from hiring them. That’s one of the main problems the economy is facing now. As kids are stuck at home with a parent, that parent can’t go out and work. The labor market needs to expand and for that to happen there needs to be access to good quality childcare.

President Joe Biden’s recently proposed infrastructure plan tackles this child care issue by trying to expand the number of facilities, increasing pay to increase quality and helping parents pay for it with subsidies. Critics of the plan suggest that it should be more targeted to lower-income families and that the market should set the wages for day care providers. They may be right on some of those but at least we’re talking about child care as a key component of our country’s ability to compete internationally and make our economy stronger.

The key to any successful plan will be to use the existing private and nonprofit day care already out there and help them expand and help others enter the market with the necessary licensing. That’s also a key part of easing parents back into the workforce. We should be supporting professional child care providers who can demonstrate that they create a safe environment for our children.

New Hampshire already has a program that provides subsidies to low-income families. The hope is that, if Biden’s plan passes, it can supplement this program and get additional funding out to those who need it most quickly.

Some have complained that Americans aren’t starting enough small businesses. I agree. But it isn’t that people are suddenly not entrepreneurs. Look at all the people who have a side hustle. We’re surrounded by entrepreneurs. The problem is that these people need health insurance and child care and that’s hard to afford when you’re starting a business. Want to increase the number of entrepreneurs? Increase affordable health insurance and child care. That’s the real solution. It doesn’t need to be a hand out. It’s a hand up. And with the cost of health care and child care today, Granite Staters need a hand up to take that chance and be that entrepreneur.

Quality and affordable child care is vital to our national interests.

My father passed away last summer during the midst of the pandemic in Illinois. I am so grateful I was able to be with him for much of the summer despite the challenges of Covid-19. He was extremely hard of hearing, and he had been for several years. He was dead set against getting hearing aids. Any time this was discussed, he would politely inform us that he could hear everything he wanted to hear just fine. When I was sitting with him in the hospital, he kept telling me to take my mask off. “I can’t hear you,” he would say, even though I was doing my best to speak loudly and articulate clearly. I realized then how much he had been relying on lip reading for clues as to what we were saying.

I have always prided myself on having good communication skills and being able to read people’s emotions well. Throw a pandemic in the mix where the world wears masks in public, and that changed relatively quickly. While I didn’t need to read lips, I soon realized how much I relied on facial clues to gain a sense of what somebody was thinking. The smile, the frown, the clenched jaw, the pause, the “but I am about to interrupt you” look. All these things are a piece of a puzzle that is now hidden.

I have retrained myself to look in the eyes for clues. I can see the pain in my mother’s eyes since my dad passed, and I am sure many days it is still evident in mine. I can see beautiful smiles in my grandchildren’s eyes above their little masks when I see them. And on any given day I can see joy, frustration, amusement, annoyance and a whole variety of emotions in my 16-year-old son’s eyes. I see anger in eyes now, and I see compassion. I see hurt, and I see understanding.

My mother says I have my dad’s “snappy brown eyes,” and she can always tell when I am mad. I didn’t realize that, but I am so grateful that I do. While I can’t wait for a time when it is safe to live our lives without masks, I will still be looking in people’s eyes for a piece of the puzzle. I highly recommend you give it a try. Only then do you really get the full picture.

Even as I write these words, some professor at some college is planning a course for the fall semester that will deal with the pandemic. Virtually every academic discipline will have some segment or unit that addresses what we have been (and still are) going through. Literature classes will have their own version of A Journal of a Plague Year. From Art to Zoology, scholars will draw upon the events of these days to develop retrospectives on how the pandemic came about, how it has been handled, who it’s affected, what it’s cost, the statistics of infection, hospitalizations, recoveries and deaths, social, racial and economic injustices, political dimensions, military strategic implications, and economic, psychological and cultural impacts. The list is seemingly endless.

Whatever the courses or programs the professionals develop to parse the significance of this almost unprecedented event, each of us will have our own story. Perhaps, if any of us lives to be old enough, our grandchildren or even great-grandchildren may someday ask, “What was it like back then?” How will we answer? That question occupies me very much these days as I find my longtime practice of daily journal writing has nearly ground to a stop. Quite simply, I do not know what to write now, especially as I imagine one of my descendants someday thumbing through the stack of leather-bound books I’ve been filling up since the early ’60s, noting all my adventures and impressions, and then coming to a blank for most of this year. Will she or he wonder why the hiatus?

In truth, the isolation imposed by the pandemic has meant many of us have been alone with our own thoughts this last year more than ever before. While Zoom and FaceTime can close the loneliness gap somewhat, each of those is a really a kind of planned encounter, an “appointment.” What has been missing is that range of unexpected stimulation that comes from simply being in the presence of other people, whether at the workplace, grocery shopping, dining, or just being out and about. Social distancing has truly made us socially distant and as a result, as David Brooks recently noted, our “extroversion muscles have atrophied while [our] introversion muscles are bulging.”

Early on in the pandemic, there were signs everywhere proclaiming, “Together, we’ll get through this.” We are getting through it. My hope is that now, if we can do it safely, getting vaccinated and wearing our masks as appropriate, we can get back together. Perhaps my journaling will pick up again.