Category Archives: Essay

Seeing my Father out

My father used to call me Doug the hugger.  I would wrap my arms around him and squeeze tight. He towered over me then.  Usually I could only reach his knees, unless he was down on the floor wrestling with us.  He was quite vigorous in his prime.  He canoed and played racquetball and coached my basketball team.  The first thing that really slowed him was a skiing injury that made it painful for my dad to continue jogging. That was years ago, and even then he was busy cutting and hauling wood, and biking to work.  As decades passed, illnesses took a toll on him. He recovered from a cancer and a heart attack.  He was treated for an eye problem.  As his body got old  he took an awful lot of pills.  A damaged bladder led to him wearing a catheter and a belly bag.  When my father got cancer for the second time, I worried about him.   

I watched my father lose capacity in a way that awkwardly mirrored the way my daughter had gained capacity as she grew and matured.  With my daughter, her increasing mastery of her mind and body was a cause for celebration.  Seeing those same milestones being taken from my father was hard.  In youth we overshare about our child’s potty training, not so with incontinence.  When my dad, who represented strength in my childhood, became weaker, I resisted the change.  My reaction was painful and shared furtively, if at all.

A few months before his death, I found the man who taught me to drive struggling to get his car into gear.  I told myself, “It was a momentary lapse, don’t make a big deal about it”.  But that episode brought back memories of how my maternal grandfather had become a danger on the road in his last years of life.  Each of my grandfather’s neighbors secretively approached me about taking away his car keys.  The car represents independence to a senior citizen just as much as it does to a teenager.  For my dad, I offered rides more frequently. 

Spending time together became an objective.   I brought my parents out to our home for a birthday party.  I recorded him reading his poetry.  We gathered to eat sandwiches at a park. When dad was waiting for mom, my wife and I got chairs to sit next to him and pass the time.  I would share with him details of my projects.  On three occasions I painted his picture.  The first one was a painting of him sleeping on the couch.  He napped a lot so it was easy to catch him doing it.  Since it wasn’t a very flattering picture, I promised to do it again.  For the second pose he was playing on his phone, but since that didn’t really represent my image of him, I substituted a book for the phone.  I used the excuse of wanting a double portrait to get him to pose a third time with my mom.  Our conversations continued much as they had been for years.  

Even so I knew my father was facing an aggressive cancer.  One kidney was removed.  A mass appeared in his remaining kidney, but it was in-operable.  I contemplated taking a leave of absence to support my parents.  My father was becoming very exhausted.  After his first fall he had to crawl back up.  I didn’t hear about that fall until two days later when he was not able to get up from the second fall.  As time went on he was not able to get out of bed.  It was around this time that it became clear that doctors would not be able to cure him.  Our mindset shifted from hope for remission to wanting to make him comfortable.

The expression that I use now is to describe this time period is the last ten days of his life, but at the time there was no certainty as to what would happen.  This was new and often fearful territory.  We had no certainty of how this might end, plus there were suddenly caretaker roles thrust upon us. I had no direct experience caring for a seriously ill patient, and my mom who had was not strong enough to do some of the more strenuous caretaker duties.  Hospice provided vital support in the form of a hospital bed and visiting nurses who showed how to care for my dad.  The social worker and nurse sat down with us and described the needs of a critically ill patient and also how the body shuts down at the end of life.

The end of life is a moment when relationships change.  I could see how this was a passage for me as well.  I had seen my dad as a constant strong point on which I could rely.  Now, I needed to be the one who was strong enough to be there for him and flexible enough to evolve in how I would be with him as a caretaker rather than a nurtured son.

Near the end he was not able to turn in bed and eventually he stopped eating and drinking.  None of this sounds appealing, yet this is where I wanted to be.  It is like a tradition my wife has instilled in me.  At the end of an evening we not only see a guest to the door, but also follow them to their car and wave until they pass out of sight.  As my father was about to leave this earth, the tasks of giving medicine, keeping track of his position, and readjusting the pillows helped me to feel like I had a meaningful role.  I was doing all of the talking as dad had stopped speaking.  The snow world became smaller but also more intimate.  My desire to be an active participant in my dad’s care became clear to me when my mom began advocating for hiring home health care aids to come in and do the care.  She asked me to make the call and set up an appointment to hire these strangers.  I did as she asked, but as I did so, my heart felt pushed aside.  I don’t think I could bear to be a spectator to my father’s death.  Fortunately, their office was not open over the weekend, so that decision was delayed. In the meantime, I focused on caring for my dad.  

Saturday night we did everything we could to keep my dad comfortable.  We shifted his position and his pillows to prevent bed sores.  We carefully ground his pills and mixed them with water so the liquid mush could be administered by dropper.  When his catheter began to leak we were able to call a hospice nurse to replace it.  I recorded each detail of care with the time to make sure I was adhering to the schedule of care.  I set my alarm to wake myself every three hours so I could give medicine and reposition him as scheduled.  This continued at 6:00 pm, 9:00 pm, midnight…. from my sleeping spot on the porch I could hear my father’s heavy breathing.  When I woke up at 3:00 am a loud storm was raging.  I could not hear my father over the thunder and lightning.  When I went to my dad, I found him as before.  Breathing heavily, but not in any distress.  I gave him the medicine and repositioned him.  In that moment, with the storm raging outside, I felt the cozyness of this warm space and there was deep intimacy and unique privilege to be the only one awake in this darkened house caring for my dad.  As time passed, the storm moved on and day broke. By mid morning I was sketching out a painting of our time together from the night before.  He was no longer able to see, so I couldn’t show it to him, but the nurse said that hearing persists to the end, so I told him about it.  As the day progressed, more family members arrived until we were all gathered together.  Weeks earlier, we had planned to celebrate dad’s birthday that evening, which we did in a subdued fashion. I squeezed his hand and told him I loved him.  Later with everyone gathered around him, my father took his last breath.   The hugs of my youth could no longer reach him.  As much as I may have wished to cling to him, I had no power to keep him, and I had made peace with that.  I was grateful to have been there to say goodbye.

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Local Issues, Local Art, Local Understanding and Local Economies 

Local Issues, Local Art, Local Understanding and Local Economies  by Doug E. L. HaynesThe pandemic lockdown of 2020 pulled me out of my routine and canceled my commute.  I used the extra time to make art.  I chose to focus on a central intersection located between our local university and the seat of government.  I sketched there over 30 times between November of 2020 and May of 2021.  Each time I went back, I found a new point of view.  This was an eventful time in our city.  The result of the presidential election was determined, my sketches document murals which were put up in the wake of George Floyd’s murder.  I participated in and sketched a protest to ‘Stop Asian Hate’.  It felt like composing a love letter to my hometown.  

This art was meaningful to those who knew this place well and endured this time together.  These multiple crises were challenging our community to imagine how we might emerge transformed and stronger than before.  I compiled the art into a book that could stimulate contemplation on what had happened.  I took several steps to keep this a local project.  I hired poets and writers who had connections to the place to provide texts with diverse perspectives.  I established my own publishing company.  I used a local printer and promoted the book locally.  In protest against Amazon, my slogan was: “When online booksellers launch themselves into space it is time to buy local.”  The book was well received by the local media. 

As I worked to reach audiences, I contemplated using Google and Facebook to advertise.  I had been an early adopter of their services.  I have had Gmail and Facebook accounts since the 1990’s.  The free services are seductive, and initially I gave little thought as to how they come at no charge.  Some years later I read essays describing our data as the commodity and that we are the product being sold.  It made sense but it seemed harmless.  My data was probably anonymized and it was of no particular value to me.  It seemed OK to trade that for useful services, even if the ads I was being fed seemed stalkerish.  The 2016 election caused me to reevaluate.  Facebook played a large role in spreading falsehood.  There was no transparency in terms of who was broadcasting which messages.  The fact that each media consumer lives in a separate media bubble made it difficult to see the content of these messaging campaigns.  The evidence pointed to Russian campaigns targeting American voters to influence the election.  I felt angry and helpless.  Despite these reservations, now I was in a position to purchase what Google sells.

I was torn by the idea of injecting multinational companies into my local project.  My encounter with Google did not go well.  My first contact was a video meeting with a Google representative based in Atlanta, GA.  He did not seem to understand my book well, but he urged me to advertise with Google with promises of great success.  I had a second video chat with a technical support person in Bangalore, India.  My third video conference was with a representative in the Philippines.  The main selling point was Google’s AI, which would  track down people interested in my book.  This third meeting was intended to seal the deal on an advertising contract, but did little to assuage my doubts.  Not surprisingly, this person half a world away had little understanding of what I was trying to sell or why people might be interested.  I was also turned off by the fact that 2 of the 3 meetings were located in countries with low wage economies.  Perhaps I should have been grateful that a multinational could bring me talent at low cost from around the world.  In my mind I saw money being mined from our local economy by people who have no business coming between me and my local audience.

For now, art is still not easy for AI to understand.  Perhaps at some point in the future, AI will have no trouble parsing the artist’s message.  I hope art will remain a human endeavor.  As for marketing, I will look for alternatives.  I am not sure if my method is sustainable or will make a difference in the long run, but I would like to imagine ways to do business that do not involve feeding large conglomerates.  The price of “free” can be costly.

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Contributing Author: Doug Haynes

Doug Haynes published 5 essays in the anthology 여술 신앙의 정원 which came out in Spring of 2021.

The essays Haynes provided to the book were translated into Korean.   Haynes addresses topics related to how his life connects to art and justice.  The essay titles are: Seeing my Father out, Art CSA compared to Agriculture CSAApplying Scripture to Modern Context Finding Meaning in a Work of ArtJonah and the Whale an Artist’s Perspective,

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Artists’ Information Superhighway Soon to be a Dirt Road

UPDATE: On 12/14/17 the FCC voted to eliminate net neutrality.

In the near future, the internet could experience a fundamental shift away from the free flow of information, towards a system that requires payment to participate.   While not an overt form of censorship, it has the potential to push many valuable artistic ideas out of the mainstream.  For many talented artists who have undergone the torments of wallowing in obscurity, the deficits of such a system are self evident.

Under the current system, the humble website of a regional artist will load just as fast as any other page on the web. However, if net neutrality rules are suspended, the web will become skewed towards large content providers.  Up until now, regulations have ensured that internet service providers (ISPs) provide the same speed of service to every website.  Thus, net neutrality created a level playing field for large and small content providers.    The rewritten rules will permit priority service for some websites and slow the performance of other sites with artificial bottlenecks.  

Artists add content to the web.

It is expected that ISPs will reformulate their business model to take advantage of the lax regulation.   The first change would likely be to pressure video streaming services such as Netflix or Youtube to pay for speedy content delivery.  This will result in higher fees and more advertisements as well as less bandwidth for small websites.   

 

In a best case scenario this proposal will be rejected.   If that fails and the ISPs gain the ability to throttle speeds at will, one could hope that this becomes a battle of titans where little folks would remain unaffected.  Perhaps even at reduced speeds the slim files that compose an artist’s website will load in a time reasonable to impatient visitors.  

In the worst case scenario, a plethora of ills could spill from this pandora’s box.  ISPs could approach artists to request fees to deliver content at high speeds.  Artists already encounters shakedowns on platforms such as Facebook which solicit money to “promote this post.”   In addition, shady operators might cash in on the public’s uncertainty to promise solutions while delivering only snake oil.   Lack of net neutrality could also accelerate an existing trend towards an aesthetic shaped by what is most likely to draw a click.  While not really a unified artistic school of thought, the web seems to celebrate art that is bizarrely fascinating as well as reward artists creating work linked to a popular figure or rising trend.  In a tiered system, the click-worthy art would likely be put in the fast lane of the internet, while works of more subtle beauty would populate the back alleys.  Artists who have long chafed at the power of artistic elites, may find themselves facing a whole new set of decision makers passing judgement on what gets seen and what is neglected.

A number of factors have lead to this proposal.  The internet’s value as a place to share ideas has been under appreciated and is being overrun by the desires of commerce.  Opponents of net neutrality frame the issue as removing excess government regulation.  This idea is really just legislation catering to companies like AT&T, Comcast, and Verizon who stand to profit enormously and whose push to make this happen make them the second largest lobby in congress.   The current FCC chair, Adjit Pai, is a former Verizon lawyer who has the interests of ISPs close to heart.  When the FCC collected comments online, the process was marred by a flood of millions of comments automatically submitted by bots in opposition to net neutrality.1

On the other side there has been a strong push to preserve net neutrality.  Analysis of online comments collected by the FCC show that of those comments, ones posted by actual humans showcased an overwhelming support for net neutrality.2   Supporters of preserving a level playing field on the internet have framed the issue in a variety of ways.  Some tech giants such as Amazon, Netflix, and Google see it as bad for business or a distortion of their vision of the internet.  Other social justice-oriented groups like the American Civil Liberties Union and Greenpeace take principled stances based on free speech.  Late night comedian John Oliver takes jabs at the underhanded moves of companies that can’t even be trusted to keep their promise to show up and install cable.3  While these diverse perspectives are all valid, a critical population has remained largely silent: artists.  

A decision is expected at the mid-December meeting of the FCC.  Some groups circulate petitions and others advocate contacting your representative in congress.  For those who wish to have their voice heard in this matter, contact members of the FCC board4as well as members of congress5 with a brief polite letter or email.

An internet dominated by those who have the money to spread their content is likely to become uniform and stale.  There is no guarantee that creativity or bright ideas will flourish if they are consigned to a slow speed internet ghetto.

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The thing that I have is probably what I need

index_cardThis morning I reached in my pocket and pulled out a tattered index card.   I give these cards to my students so they can write down and remember vocabulary words.  Without thinking, I took it to the trash and tossed it in.   I then began my next task which was writing my ‘to do’ list for the day.   As I wandered off to find a suitable sheet, it occurred to me that the paper I had just tossed was exactly what was needed.   This unremarkable event is representative of how my mind works these days.   I wandered back to the trash and fished out my tattered index card.   On it, I wrote out my list of things to do, writing this blog entry at top of the list.

Lately I challenge myself to look at things for what they might become rather than what they are.   I take a lot of joy in visiting our local thrift store “Dig and Save” to wander through the aisles and wonder how this or that item might be repurposed.

Consumer society wants us to covet the latest product.  The unique and extremely desirable qualities of such products are meant to lure us into stores, and dig deep into our pockets.   Sadly, products are the object of someone else’s imagination and we get none of the fun creative part that draws us in.   Instead, our role is limited to covet and savor it at least until it’s appeal has faded and it is time to buy another one.

Yesterday I went off to the stores right after Thanksgiving.   Yes, I had barely said goodbye to my guests when my family and I decided to venture out into the dangerous world of Black Friday shopping.   Needless to say I gave my daughter a guilt trip about running out to the stores on Thanksgiving.   When we got home, I told her that my receipt contained a request to evaluate my experience at the store.   She dismissed it saying “You’re not really going to fill it out are you?”   To her surprise I sat her down and gave her a two minute lecture the essence of which was “The old testament says that when we have a day of rest, even slaves and animals are included in that rest.   The least we can do for the cashier who took time out of his holiday to help us would be to sit down and write a glowing review for his personnel file.”

My thought in lecturing my daughter or in writing this blog for that matter is not to ruin everybody’s day with guilt, but to transform thinking.    If this challenge I give to myself is going to be transformative, I really need to look, not only at things for what they might become, but also to look at people for who they may become rather than what they are.

 

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