Last week, however, I had an entirely different experience with a banking operation in Nicaragua.  I visited again with The Nicaraguan Association for Sustainable Development (ANIDES) and its visionary leader, Gloria Elena Ordoñez Vargas.  This is an individual and an organization that understands what banking is supposed to be like, and it puts to shame most of the other organizations I know that go by the name “bank.”

Winds of Peace has funded ANIDES previously, in an effort to assist the organization with the establishment of five communal banks.  These are small, local banking offices to promote the economic and organizational autonomy of more than 200 women who live in extreme poverty in very rural locations.  Indeed, the offices more often than not are simply the homes of the local leaders.  But what these banks have been able to do, what they have represented for the women members is nothing short of remarkable.

With a very modest funding by Winds of Peace, in a little more than a year ANIDES has been able to establish a revolving credit fund for the 220+ members, establish two business groups to coordinate independent “home” businesses, provide training in the creation of a savings culture, nurture a positive capital growth in each of the small banks established, offer education and assistance to women victims of domestic violence, enhance the access to basic food needs and boost the local economies of the communities served.  This is banking in its most holistic form, integrating elements that are social, organizational, cultural, economic, human, spiritual and environmental in scope.  When was the last time your bank inquired about your social, human or spiritual needs?

What is even more remarkable about this initiative’s success is that it is being achieved with women members who have almost noprevious economic experience or training.  Meeting with the women for the first time last September, I was struck by their shyness and humility, but also with their tenacity (many came from miles away on foot) and their outright success: only one of the small community banks was showing deficits by its neophyte members.  Members themselves were providing the tracking, the follow-up and the solidarity with one another to make sure that their borrowing was matched by their repayments.  In other words, the bank existed to facilitate both the needs and the strengths of its members, not to impose onerous conditions that would encourage failure.  What a novel concept for banking.  What an amazing impact on the lives of some very poor people.

The intended extension of this banking project is that the women, who now have softened some of their previous fears about borrowing money, might be encouraged to invest in the improvement of their rudimentary homes and living conditions, including the installation of ecological toilets.  This amenity- sounding so essential to so many of us- has been considered an absolute luxury by many rural residents.  With the presence of the communal banks to accompany them, such an amenity now seems within reach, and along with it rises the self-esteem of the women who can provide it.  The existence of a small bank can allow these women to take control of their lives in ways they previously could not.

What can a bank do?  Merely channel the empowerment of its members, provide access to credit and tools for investment, facilitate education to recognize and respond to gender oppression, encourage healthy habitat conditions, grow self-esteem, foster economic autonomy and teach people how to take more control of their own lives.  In a world where the future for many banking institutions seems to include implosion, we could learn a great many lessons from these communal banks in Nicaragua.  It might even beg the question, “Who really is the more developed….?”

At the close of her story which chronicled the ups and downs of the candidates and the apparent indecisiveness of Iowa voters, she concluded that, in the end, the process has been right, that this is democracy at the grassroots, and that “this is the best of America.”  I looked up from the material I was reading at that last phrase, in surprise at the characterization.  What she might have been trying to say is that democracy is good and we therefore should revere it.  But after giving it some thought, I had to conclude that what I have been experiencing in the run-up to the caucuses is among the worst of America.  Let me explain.

For all of the disinterest which he generated, former Republican candidate Tim Pawlenty of Minnesota might have captured it best when, in reply to the question of whether he would ever run again, he replied, “No, because you have to become too cartoonish.”   The so-called “debates” in which the candidates have engaged have been far less like a true exposition of candidate positions and far more like a poorly-scripted reality TV show.  Delivery of platitudes and punchlines is the objective for the candidates, with a healthy dose of avoiding anything that could be considered substantive and therefore open to challenge.  If I hear one more candidate say that he/she “believes in America,” I shall have a breakdown.  I’m still waiting to hear from that candidate- any candidate- who states that he/ she does not believe in America.  I have cheered true debates- as in high school- where the participants took stands and defended their positions with conviction and clarity.  But I have jeered at the sorry presentations made by Republican and Democrat candidates alike as they have endeavored to become darlings of their fickle followers.  As I recall, personal attacks and mudslinging were never condoned in true debate contests.

This is the first occasion wherein the newly-bestowed power to the PACS has operated without constraints, thanks to last year’s Supreme Court ruling.  What that has provided us is an even more despicable, non-stop string of character assassinations and out-of-context representations designed to shock us away from a particular candidate.  And when appropriately offended at such accusations, we are reminded at the end of the commercial that the words are not the responsibility of the opposing candidate, but rather the sole responsibility of the PAC.  What a clever way for candidates to further dodge responsibility for their campaigns and allow corporate donors to buy access.

These past several holiday weeks have brought a surfeit of re-runs to television, but they are far preferable to the nauseating candidate messages stuffed into the commercial breaks.  For instance, it is an out-and-out falsehood for a candidate to state that he/she created so many million jobs; no one can claim it, not even a successful business owner or politician.  Jobs come about as the result of a lot of hard work by a lot of people who happen to find themselves in a particular economic cycle not of our own making.  Taking credit for one’s good fortune is disingenuous and a lie; how can we feel good about someone who is straight-out dishonest?

In the past six days, our telephone has rung more than twenty-six times- eight times just today- with unwelcome messages of support for one candidate or another, and often from people I have never even heard of.  If a telemarketer called that many times and in such a short span of time, we would likely summon the police to make it stop.  But the messages and the intrusions just keep on happening, as they will until this evening’s caucuses are concluded.  And I have to wonder whether voters truly reach a conclusion about exercising their voting franchise on the basis of anonymous calls.  If so, then I understand why our government has functioned as poorly as it has in recent years.

The coup de gras for this season of discontent is that, as the eyes of the nation focus momentarily on beautiful little Iowa, there are a good many of us in the state who are really disenfranchised from the process, this “best of America.”  Our national politics is comprised of two parties which have systematically prevented any other party or individual from having any opportunity for election.  (Read Ralph Nader’s experience in, Grand Illusion, by Theresa Amato).  Instead of inviting greater debate and participation from a wider (and perhaps better) pool of potential leaders and thinkers, the Republican and Democrat parties have effectively engineered all the necessary roadblocks to prevent such intrusion.  The nation is the poorer for that.   Here in Iowa, unless I am willing to identify with either the Republican or Democrat ideology (which I am not), the option is to go home and watch the caucuses on TV.

As I have observed the growing dysfunction of our government over the past several years and now experience the limiting process of deliberation in this year’s early campaigns, I begin to understand more clearly why we are in the mess in which we find ourselves these days as a country.  We have created a political game to be played that forces its participants into becoming cartoon characters instead of leaders, money-led instead of integrity-led, captives to ideology instead of governance.  Believing in the United States requires more than simply saying it.

I love almost everything about Iowa.  I love living in these United States.  I love the privilege of casting my vote for candidates I can trust to do their best in discerning what is right for the country as a whole.  But as of late I have certainly not witnessed “the best of America”….

One of my usual running routes in the summer takes me along the banks of the Upper Iowa River as it flows through the Luther College campus.  It’s a stretch of river that meanders, and the trail which mimics it is part of the college’s cross-country route.  Trees line both sides of the trail, with the river just below the bank to the left.  I entered the trail at full plodding (my version of running), undoubtedly making enough noise with my heavy strides to alert any wildlife there of my approach.  And as I rounded the first curve, an enormous flutter stopped me in my tracks.  Directly in front of me, perhaps ten feet from where I now stood, a magnificent, adult bald eagle rose powerfully from a limb overhanging the river.  If you have never been in the close presence of a fully-matured bald eagle, words will not adequately convey the tangible sense of awe and majesty which it conveys.  If you have been in such proximity, you will readily recognize how the sight actually took my breath away.  That sight alone was worth the price of my run!  The white-crowned mammoth glided across the river and downstream, soon perched high up in an adjacent tree, all the while screeching its eagle call in response to my intrusion or as a triumphant call of escape or…

…or as a warning cry to someone else.  I have heard that screeching parental cry many times as I have watched Decorah’s famous eaglets on the “eagle cam” each summer.  So I instinctively turned back to the tree from which the eagle had taken flight, looking for someone who might have been left behind in the sudden escape.  And for a second time in as many minutes my breath was literally taken away by the sight before me.  There on the same tree, on a branch several feet higher than the first launch pad, sat a second eagle.  Smaller than the first but with all of the usual adult makings, the creature sat no more than twelve feet from where I stood, curiously transfixed by my presence,  its eagle eye upon me but with no urgency to flee.  I thought that I could detect a nervous sensitivity to its parent’s screeching across the river, but it maintained its position and examination of me, the grounded intruder, for minutes on end.  I never moved in my stance, trading curious looks eye-to-eye with Nature itself.

In the course of the stare-down, I became distracted by yet another movement directly across the stream from where my newfound observer sat.  In a tree on the opposite bank sat a third eagle, similar in size and aspect to the second one before me.  By now I’m fairly certain that my jaw had dropped open in disbelief.  Eagles are quite common in the Decorah area, but I had never previously had the good fortune to be so close to so many of these amazing hunters.  My watch remained steadily upon the one close to me, but occasionally I stole a peek at the other, to see whether there would be any interactions.  Meanwhile, the parent screeched its warning call continuously, certainly more savvy about the perils of being close to mankind than either of the younger birds.

Five minutes or so into this contest, the parent’s cries finally prevailed and with a magnificent push from the limb on which it had rested, the eagle in front of me lifted itself into the air and made a beeline flight to the tree of its presumed parent.  I could not help but openly smile at the display of grace and power before me, the true embodiment of shock and awe, and I reached out to this beautiful creature as it rose, so close was I to its departure.  The third eagle across the river held its position, so my attention immediately went back to the reunion just downstream.

Reunion is the right word in this case.  My focus some twenty yards downstream was on the two eagles already of my acquaintance.  But perched above the two, at the top of the barren, wintering tree, sat a fourth member of the family.  High enough off the ground and silhouetted against the winter-grey sky, eagle  number four could have been a second parent overseeing the afternoon’s outing or perhaps a third youngster learning the places and people of the Oneota Valley; I could not discern its size or markings.  But I did recognize what a unique and magnificent sighting had unfolded before me.  I watched the family for a while longer and then, perhaps foolishly, waved good-bye as I set off on the trail once again.  I thought the parent might have rustled its wings in response, but I may have been imagining.

Thoreau wrote to us, “We need the tonic of the wilderness, to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and the meadow-hens lurk, and hear the booming of the snipe….  At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable…. We need to witness our own limits transgressed, and some life pasturing freely where we never wander.”   The mystery and the majesty  encountered on this outing pours out affirmation upon such feelings, made my breathing easier and my footfalls lighter than they might otherwise have been.  I still feel the effects of the chance encounter, filled with its wonder.  It’s a Christmas gift worth gushing about….

I’m biased, of course.  I have been immersed within the ESOP community since 1985, when Foldcraft Co. completed its first ESOP transaction.  I “grew up” in employee ownership, managed under employee ownership, spoke around the country on behalf of employees ownership and eventually retired from our ESOP before the Winds of Peace calling came my way.  I figured then that I had experienced the realities of employee ownership from stem to stern, from inception to retirement, and that I could adequately talk about it in all of its dimensions to whatever audiences would listen.  (I have been privileged to do just that as an ambassador of the Employee Ownership Foundation over the past six years, speaking to business audiences about the realities of employee ownership.)  And then, I started working in Nicaragua.

I have written here previously my amazement at the similarities between high-functioning ESOP companies and the cravings of the poor in Nicaragua.  (In my very first visit Foundation trip to Nicaragua in 2006, I was informed that holistic thinking, participation and ownership were the key elements for rural poor to address in improving their circumstances. )  Those similarities have continued to impress themselves upon me as I have come to better understand the context of life for the poor in Nicaragua, and have listened to what many there have said about what they need to transform themselves.

As the scope and content of our work has changed during the past six years, cooperatives have come to occupy a bigger role.  Often they demonstrate the transparency and involvement which we have always felt to be critical to sustainability.  In working with coops we have the opportunity to reach a larger number of people with a given amount of funding.   Even the Nicaraguan government cites the importance of the cooperative model of organization, affirming our focus on coops.  We have pioneered research of the cooperatives, shared our experiences from working with them, targeted funding toward them and measured the results.  Rural cooperatives can and do work when the policies and practices behind them encourage full participation, transparency, and opportunity.   Hm, does that sound like anything familiar here in the U.S.?

Employee ownership is not simply a progressive way to think about the transition of a company.  Rather, it meets some very fundamental needs of human beings at work and in life.  It speaks to the issues of belonging, of being somebody  whose work matters, of believing in a reality of self-betterment, of strengthening community in the process.  For those of us fortunate enough to work in an employee-owned enterprise, it can be a very rewarding experience, not only financially but emotionally, socially, intellectually, spiritually, occupationally and even physically.  For cooperative members in Nicaragua, it can be the very cocoon of transforming life for self and family.  In either case, it’s ownership that matters.  What a life lesson….

As I have thought about these episodes, the elements are always the same.  There is always a victim, identified by some perceived vulnerability or personal characteristic, or maybe for no apparent reason at all, but somebody who bears the brunt of a bully’s attack.  There is always a bully, focused on tormenting the life of his/her targets with whatever means available, including physical assault.  And there is always the outrage, when we finally come to know of the injustice.  The components are constant, as they have always been.

It’s not too difficult for any of us to recall episodes of bullying that we’ve either experienced, perpetrated or observed; it has been part of our lives.  In fact, it has been a part of everyone’s life.  What we have come to call bullying is simply the age-old phenomenon of people seeking to strengthen their own self-image and status by attacking the worth and value of others.  After all, there are but two ways to climb the ladder of rank: strengthen myself upward or push someone else down.  This is nothing new.  History and current events are packed with the cases of those who have sought status at the expense of others whom they perceived to be exploitable.  Consider Adolph Hitler.  Or Bull Connor in Birmingham, Alabama.

So I am intrigued by the recent attempts by some to cure the world of its bullying ways so that no one ever has to cower in fear from the shadow of intimidation.  For example, note the following excerpts from a Minneapolis StarTribune newspaper article from November 29:

Gov. Mark Dayton will appoint a task force to explore the best methods used nationwide to confront bullying, a problem that affects more than 100,000 students a week in Minnesota, according to a 2011 study by the state Departments of Health and Education.

“The time has long since passed to step up and say, ‘Enough, this does not have to be this way,’” Dayton said.

He said he wants to see “a Minnesota where every child can go to school and know it’s a place where they are valued and loved, where school is for learning and creating your future.”

“We need to take the roof off and look at who’s in the schools today,” said (State Representative Jim Davnie), adding that schools are more diverse than they’ve ever been. “Just saying, ‘Be nice,’ isn’t enough. The bullies know where the low-hanging fruit is.”

Brooklyn Center schools Superintendent Keith Lester said he hopes the task force will look beyond the surface to the organizational flaws that allow bullying to happen. “What I would hope is they would dig real deep,” he said, adding that the study should go beyond crime and punishment, at “rather what causes bullying and what are some of the things you do systemically to prevent bullying.”

It’s an interesting initiative, and one which I hope results in great success in identifying the motivations of a bully.  Perhaps the task force will identify tactics and techniques of modern-day bullies that can be negated by policy or practice.  But it seems to me that we might just as well launch a study into understanding what makes some of us overly competitive or greedy or insensitive or ungrateful.    We humans have exhibited such behaviors since our first days on two feet; in my estimation, eliminating and preventing such tendencies just isn’t going to happen.

I suspect that there is no systematic means of preventing bullying because it is not a systemic matter.  Bullying is personal, individual, the result of whatever combination of experiences has warped the perpetrator, and driven him/her to launch the perverted assault.  Others certainly can and have joined in such bully assaults, but primarily because they, too, carry around a self-formed need to crush someone else in order to raise themselves up.  Sadly, it’s part of who we are from time to time, each of us.

Consider our own tendencies for bullying.  It happens on the roadways every day, as drivers with vehicles either twice as big or three times as fast as the norm try to command spaces to which they aren’t entitled.  It happens to people in service jobs continually, as unhappy customers ramp up their unhappiness by volume and vocabulary to obtain the satisfaction they feel they deserve.  It happens as  a matter of course with our political representatives, who today feel that the art of compromise and negotiation is demonstrated by yelling louder and threatening longer than their opponents.  It is unnervingly evident at today’s sporting events, particularly in contact sports, where our daily insufficiencies and insecurities are exorcised vicariously through the often brutal competitions that leave us in bloodthirsty screams of delight; taunting and unsportsmanlike penalties notwithstanding, we still love the dominators.

Visions such as Governor Dayton’s are wonderful to dream, and he certainly isn’t alone in his attempts to wrap the state’s arms around the problem.  Intellectually, most of us would cherish the notion of school as a place where children are valued, loved, where school is for learning and creating your future.  What a vision!  But bullying isn’t the result of a particular school policy or the outcome of a system gone awry.  Bullying is the reflection of the darkness which lives in each of us, that place of frightening reality which is always prepared to break through to the light of day but for the strength of our wills in preventing it to do so.  Whether one attributes such defense to discipline or character or morality, it is a thin barrier that prevents any of us from becoming the bully.  Remember that the next time you feel compelled to cut someone off in traffic, or to yell at a gate agent, or belittle a waitress.  Elimination of bullying comes from the recognition of just who the bully is….

WENHAM, Mass. — It seems that every week we hear of a CEO who earned millions from a golden parachute after demonstrating poor business judgment or cutting thousands of jobs with no financial downside for executives.

These stories feed the fires of the Occupy movement growing all over the world.

But on Tuesday, we heard something different. American Airlines, once the largest airline in the United States, declared bankruptcy.

This is not surprising news for the beleaguered airline industry; what is different is what is emerging from the wreckage.

Gerard J. Arpey, American’s chief executive officer and chairman, resigned and stepped away with no severance package and nearly worthless stock holdings.

He split with his employer of 30 years out of a belief that bankruptcy was morally wrong, and that he could not, in good conscience, lead an organization that followed this familiar path.

Things have been tough for the so-called legacy carriers since the Airline Deregulation Act of 1978, as they have been pulled in opposing directions by customer demands for lower fares and labor demands for higher wages.

The events of 9/11 further shook up the industry, closely followed by the oil crisis and the recent recession.

Since Congress deregulated the industry, it has been common for airlines to claim bankruptcy and regroup under the temporary shelter provided by Chapter 11.

Continental filed in 1983 and 1990, United in 2002, US Airways in 2002 and 2004, and Delta and Northwest in 2005. In each situation, bankruptcy gave the airlines the chance to cancel their debt, get rid of responsibility for employee pensions and renegotiate more favorable contracts with labor unions.

For a long time, Arpey voiced his opposition to bankruptcy, but the airline struggled because of it. “Our bankrupt colleagues all made net profits, good net profits last year, and we didn’t,” Arpey told me a few months ago.

“And you can mathematically pinpoint that to termination of pensions, termination of retiree medical benefits, changes of work rules, changes in the labor contracts. That puts a lot of pressure on our company, not to be ignored.”

Over the last eight years, I have interviewed hundreds of senior executives for a major academic study on leadership, including six airline CEO’s.

Arpey stood out among the 550 people I talked with not because he believed that business had a moral dimension, but because of his firm conviction that the CEO must carefully attend to those considerations, even if doing so blunts financial success or negates organizational expediency.

For him, it is an obligation that goes with the corner office.

When we discussed the prospect of bankruptcy at American he spoke with an almost defiant tone of the company’s commitment to its employees and holders of its stock and debt.

“I believe it’s important to the character of the company and its ultimate long-term success to do your very best to honor those commitments,” he said.

“It is not good thinking — either at the corporate level or at the personal level — to believe you can simply walk away from your circumstances.”

But after being the only major airline with a net loss last year and with dismal prospects ahead, American joined the rest of its major competitors when the board declared bankruptcy.

The board requested that Arpey stay on, but as he wrote to American’s employees, “executing the board’s plan will require not only a re-evaluation of every aspect of our business, but also the leadership of a new chairman and CEO who will bring restructuring experience and a different perspective to the process.”

Arpey may be the only airline CEO who regarded bankruptcy not simply as a financial tool, but more important, as a moral failing.

In a day and age of outrageous executive compensation and protest movements justifiably angered at the self-serving nature of the 1 percent, it is refreshing to see a CEO leave a position with honor even as he loses a long-fought battle.

Protesters at Occupy Wall Street are mad because, to them, financial considerations are inherently moral. It is a troubling commentary on American business that perhaps the last CEO who agreed with them no longer calls the shots for one of the nation’s most venerable companies.

The irony I find in reading about a guy like this is: what would you be willing to pay for leadership with a moral dimension to it?  The answer is, very likely, you’d be willing to pay far more than for any of his self-serving, me-first contemporaries at the other airlines….

* * *

What if the idea of being in power pertained not to the ability to force one’s will on others- whether individuals, organizations, nations- but rather to be the one first in line to offer help, solace, sustenance, education.  Would the now-upside down nature of governments and corporations alike compete for recognition as the best among their peers in creating sustainability, sufficiency, and being the best stewards of the abundance that the world has to offer? The world might create a new definition of fame and fortune wherein leaders would be extolled for their servanthood instead of their domination.

What if the notion of having enough to eat referenced the minimal amount which we needed for sustenance rather than how many additional calories we were able to consume as a show of our success and abundance?  Would we not only not want a second helping of Thanksgiving dinner, but also feel insulted at the idea of eating more than was needed?  And what would that mean to our health?  The world might soon discover that food is not a symbol but a right of every living thing, and that as such, there is plenty of it on earth.

What if we were somehow able to view ourselves as all part of a magnificent quilt, whose beauty was comprised of different colors and textures which made for the exquisite whole, rather than exhausting ourselves in the pursuit of identifying differences which do not exist?  Would harnessing the strength of collaboration create a new source of atomic power  in the process?  Understanding how my own well-being is directly tied to the well-being of everyone else might cause a new form of fusion.  The world might suddenly find that its energy crisis had been quite different than it imagined beforehand.

What if we were born with the bias toward inclusion and regarded exclusion as some sort of abomination?  What if this was our only bias? Would we be able to see ourselves more clearly as a result, and thus know our place in the world, the universe, differently?  Would that make a difference? The world might discover a meaning and a purpose for itself which reaches far beyond the atmosphere of this very tiny place in the cosmos.

What if the questions here represented reality instead of sounding like fantasy?  How would my life be different?  What might have been my experiences in such a world?  What might I have known, learned, lived?

I find myself musing over such ” what if” questions from time to time, especially during the holidays when the blessings that I have received in my life are so particularly clear.  But it’s the perfect time of year to revisit such questions, as each of us seeks gifts to give, perfect and meaningful symbols of friendship and love, and preferably ones which have never been received before.  There are perfect gifts to be given.  They will not be found at midnight in a department store, but rather, deep within our psyches and waiting to be discovered and freely given, as they have been since the dawn of humankind.  It’s a new type of “shopping” that we must do if we truly seek the greatest bargain of all….

The most despised person in the United States today is not the traditional felon or Ponzi scheme architect, but rather every member of the current Congress.  These men and women have so disgraced both the legacy and future of our country through their actions and inactions that in the future we might point to this time – to these politicians and their inflexible ideologies- as the commencement of our collective fall from greatness.  For months, we have watched and waited as Congress has achieved nothing but partied rhetoric around the major issues of our time.  Most recently on the issue of the growing deficit, failing any compromise, Congress appointed a twelve-member “supergroup” to supposedly limit such unproductive rhetoric and more quietly arrive at a solution.  Today, that group formally announces its inability to get past the intransigence of both parties’ perspectives.  And the American people are left with uncertainty, lack of progress and a diminishing society and nation.

Forgive my saying that.  It’s certainly something that no political candidate dares to say for fear of being branded a traitor.  But without governance leadership, it’s an inevitable end to any organization of people.  Governance requires far more than individuals with an inflexible point of view.  It requires the art of negotiation and compromise, something that this Congress is incapable of achieving.  To stubbornly dig in and refuse to budge- on either side of the political spectrum- demonstrates a lazy arrogance.  It’s posturing that any grade school child is capable of showing, and I am embarrassed and angry that the supposedly “best” leaders we have to offer are totally incapable of rising above it.

I could run on with more of this outrage, but for those of you who agree it will be unnecessary and for those who do not, it is unlikely to change any minds.  But in the event that history looks back one day at this point in time as a pivotal time in our national decline, let me close by linking you to the names of those who took the lead in our demise.  They are America’s Most Wanted, Most Needed, and Most Absent….

Boots are suddenly everywhere.   As my wife and I walk the Luther College campus every day, boots are on the feet of most of the young women.  Knee-high, fur-lined, high-heeled, leather, buckskin, patent leather, ankle-length, black, brown, cordovan, red, white, quiet soled or clacky heeled, boots are all the fashion rage.  And the trend isn’t confined to campus fashion, either.  Walk around any shopping mall and you may soon develop an irrational fear of being booted by someone who’s really wearing them.  Even the shoe rack in my back hall is laced occasionally with the tall footgear, courtesy of visiting daughters.

Now, lest you think of me as some sort of chauvinist heel who cannot appreciate the finer points of current fashion, let me say that I admire (some) female style trends as much as the next guy.  But there are several elements to this current bon ton which render me tongue-tied in wonder.  For instance, the genesis of this boot display began long before either snow or cold temperatures made their way into the weather forecast.  Of late I have sympathized with the young women in fleece-lined chukkas on 69-degree days.  I have empathized with co-eds trapped inside tight, knee-high go-go’s (isn’t that what they were called in the 70′s?), which in turn are laced around skin-tight tights, the only pants skinny enough to fit inside.  (Feet are like lungs: they need to breathe.)

I suppose that these models would say that they are simply in preparation for the coming winter season and that I’m probably the sole detractor of an otherwise sensible sartorial accessory.  But many of the galoshes I observe appear ill-fitted for midwestern winter.  The furry feet I have seen on these dry, autumn days will soon turn to compacted crust with the wet snows of winter.  And I’m not sure that a four-inch spike heel will provide reasonable traction in a snowstorm, although the calf-length patent leather might provide some protection after the fall.  I confess to looking forward to walking the Luther College campus this winter for the sheer slapstick that I’m likely to see.

This inexplicable fashion foible is a shoe-in for puzzle of the year.  I have always been under the impression (meaning somewhere below the logic) that followers of fashion most enjoyed the opportunity to be distinctive in their wardrobe choices, differentiating themselves with unique styles and one-of-a-kind creations in order to make singular statements about their uniqueness.  But not with this year’s boot fetish.  As I made my own tennis-shoed way across campus this past weekend, four young women emerged from the amphitheater arches wearing identical brown suede booties!  I might have thought them part of some rock band or athletic team, for those were the only reasons I could think of for four people to wear the exact same footwear.  But my guess is that these were simply co-eds trying hard to be in step with feet fashion.  For myself, I’d have had a fit if my roommate and buddies wore the same clods as me; and I know my mother would have insisted on inscribing my name in each of my boots had she noticed such copy-catting.

Another other question that puzzles me in this whole matter is, why now?  For years, I have been walking the dog across campus and shaking my head at the assortment of skimpy footwear I see navigating the slush and 50-some inches of white stuff that falls in Decorah.  Sandals have been prevalent.  Low-cut tennies are a favorite. Every now and again I might see flip-flops doing winter duty, albeit begrudgingly.  But keeping snow and other assorted forms of precipitation off the tootsies has never been a priority, or even a cognizance, for students.  On several occasions last winter, we even witnessed students having a ball in the snow in their bare feet.  So either college-aged kids have become suddenly very mature about the physiology of heat and cold and the insulating characteristics of boots, or else advertisers have effectively pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and finally discovered the way to brainwash the minds of our young people.  Upon further thought, neither alternative seems likely: college students by definition aren’t that sensible and advertisers are even less so.

Like the vagaries of a computer or the fickleness of the stock market, the sudden presence of boots will likely remain unexplained.  In time, it will disappear to the same unnamed corners of the closet universe from which it has emerged, and lower-cut attire will prevail once again.  Like the dinosaurs which once dominated the earth and then were suddenly gone, boots are likely the hallmark of a limited age….

But until I can sort out my feelings about what has transpired, and perhaps why, I thought I would reproduce here a poem about Madeline Island that captures my feelings of the place as well as anything else I might write.  It was written many years ago by a young man who spent time on the island periodically and who was subsequently shaped by the experiences.  Reading it today, I can identify with every line and feeling.                                                                                                                                    

             Isle Madeline

Wave-swept and pounded, cliff and soil and sand,                   

 Lies this isle of superior strength.

Here dawn is a feeling, intense and mild,

Dusk is a taste, both gentle and wild,

And I grow ‘midst the sense in between.

  The island dynamic, yet changeless forever.

My self lies wide open, expectant and free

To give, to take, to live with the land,

My feet firmly planted, the sky in my hand

As I stretch and reach and touch like the

                    greatest of the mammoth forest trees.

This reflection of God: its communion I reap

From shores in rock and age so steep

 And lakesprung swells so heavy and deep.

Such nature it is makes me honest and true:

At full one with Nature I escape not its view.

This moated parcel of acres rough-hewn

Conducts a harmony of woodland tune

So sweet my island time is done, too soon.

But I leave having learned what it is that I am,

And richer for that, I’ll return when I can.

                                    -from “A Noble, Smiling Dog”