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Caitlin Sheedy making a difference in human and ecological communities

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logo credit: McPherson, Ks

 

OXFORD, OH (03/09/2015)(readMedia)– McPherson, Kan. (67460), resident Caitlin Sheedy, a graduate student in the Global Field Program (GFP) from Miami University’s Project Dragonfly, has been awarded a Community Engagement badge from the university for making a difference in human and ecological communities. As part of the GFP, students like Sheedy apply the tools of conservation science and advance the tenets central to the master’s degree: inquiry, community and voice.

Through her Conservation Science & Community course project entitled “Enhancing Community Recycling Investment through Public Space Recycling,” Sheedy enhanced recycling awareness through promoting recycling in public spaces. Sheedy is a science teacher at McPherson High School.

As part of her master’s program coursework, Sheedy studied approaches to environmental stewardship in the Central American country of Belize. Study sites include 13 countries throughout Africa, Asia, Australia and the Americas.

The GFP master’s degree is designed for educators and other professionals from all disciplines and settings who are interested in working collaboratively to bring about change in local and global contexts. Applicants can be from anywhere in the United States or abroad. To learn more about the GFP, visit http://gfp.miamioh.edu/.

Like Project Dragonfly on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/PrjDragonfly.

Chronicles of The Farm Woman: Freedom for Women

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    In commemoration of Women’s day in Emporia’s Rededication week activities, the Anthony Morse chapter, Daughters of Colonists has submitted the following article for publication.  It was written by Mary Francis McKinney, The Gazette’s Farm Woman: 

    The Freedom Train is “a moverin’” across the Kansas prairies today.  Coming out of the Rocky mountains it is coasting eastward with stops at Hutchinson and Wichita.

    The exhibits which the Freedom Train bears are as sacred in the traditions of the United States as was the Ark which the Israelites toted across the desert, centuries before Christ.  Only the high priest could view the inside of the Ark.     

    As many as can crowd in the train can gaze upon our sacred documents.  The Declaration of Independence in the fine handwriting of Thomas Jefferson with the signatures of men who were bold enough to assert their independence and form a new nation.  The Constitution and the Bill of Rights and later amendments is the framework within which free men have carved their destiny these last 16 or 17 decades.

    These documents would be mere scraps of paper if the ideas and ideals embodied in them did not continue to live in the hearts of men, women and children.  We are apt to take these privileges for granted and forget that responsibilities go with freedom.  “Eternal vigi-lance,” said one of the founding fathers, “is the price of liberty.

    It is a wonderful thing that a group of people over the nation conceived the idea of the Freedom Train and that civic-minded folk at every stop have made all local arrangements, including finances.

    In the week of dedication in Lyon county we are reminded of the place that women have taken in the civic life of the nation.  Martha Washington, Dolly Madison, Betsy Ross are familiar figures in the pages of history.  Then as now it was the spectacular, the unusual that made news.  What of the great mass of women of that era and of each succeeding generation?  Woman was right there alongside her mate, helping him to carve a home and civilization out of the wilderness.  In the century before the Declaration of Independence men and women had evolved a comfortable, cultured mode of country living which is still a dream of luxury and ease.

    Each plantation was a community within itself and vast store houses of food and staples that were secured in the markets at infrequent intervals.  The plantation mistress was teacher, household manager, nurse, community arbiter, and gracious hostess.  Hers was a responsible position.  As civilization pushed west-ward woman trudged along with man.  Cabins supplanted plantation mansions but dreams of a better day sustained the pioneer woman. 

    Trades and industry came in along with westward migration and the walls of the home were extended to the community or village.  Instead of each mother teaching her children, schools were established.  The village store replaced the plantation storehouse and today’s delicatessen may substitute for the kitchen range.  As all these activities have branched out and supplanted the plantation community.  It is the natural thing that woman has gone out of the home into teaching, clerking, into industry and the professions.  In the late war there was no discrimination against sex in industry.  It was equal pay for equal work.  One day that will be the rule in peace as in war.

    One hundred years ago a suffrage convention was held and articles drawn up demanding equal suffrage.  In 1920 this became an amendment to the constitution.  That victory was not won without a struggle but the objective was worth the persistent efforts expended.  Indeed each phase in the evolution of woman’s place in society has been met by resistance of the opposite sex.  Yet eventually man has given           in and accepted woman in a new sphere.  No doubt much of the objection has been due to the fact that man resists change, he objects to the things he does not know or understand.   

    Betty Co-ed strides across the college campus today in the new skirt length and soiled saddle oxfords, little realizing that it was the persistence of her great grandmother in pursuing a college education that broke down the barricades and made the pathway easy for her.  This Betty is carrying on the spirit of the pioneer woman who helped make America the nation that it is.            

The beast without

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“Isaac’s being a jerk,” my seven year-old, Isaiah, says about his older brother. They have been sledding over new-fallen snow.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he keeps knocking me off my sled.”

“Why do you think he did that?” I ask. I’ve been trying to help my children consider how sometimes they incite one another.

“Because he’s evil.”

Well, then.

“My sisters pregnant I can’t wait to find out if im gonna be an aunt or uncle,” is what the girl tweeted. By the time I saw a screenshot of her words, they had traveled pretty widely. What an idiot, people said. Glad I’m not that stupid. I thought the same things.

Some weren’t content just to mock her to one another, they went to her Twitter timeline and told her she was stupid. Because the mark of intelligence is marking stupidity of others, I guess.

I went too, because I had begun to wonder: is anyone that dumb? I scrolled through her tweets, and watched time reverse itself: from the latest, where she asked why this harassment was happening to her, and told these strangers to leave her alone, to hours earlier, before she was beaten down, when she gave back as good as she got, to days before that, before someone decided she made a nice target. She’s a girl who doesn’t always attend to her grammar and likes the things that girls like and has an okay sense of humor. She’s just a girl. She isn’t an idiot. The tweet about being an aunt or uncle was a joke.

And as it turns out, lots of people have said the same joke. Not everyone has had strangers pop out of the woodwork to belittle them for doing so, but some have. I suppose they got off easy—even this girl so widely mocked that she shut down her Twitter account­—in comparison to Justine Sacco, who tweeted a joke about AIDS before boarding a flight to Africa in 2013, only to land and discover it had traveled the globe, and that she had been portrayed as a monster.

I saw there’s a movie coming out, a retelling of the mangled-beyond-recognition Dracula story, in which he is a hero who takes on vampiric powers to save his family. As I’ve written elsewhere, this is a trend in movies, to rehabilitate monsters. It’s a curious thing that we are humanizing monsters, yet are so quick to beastialize humans.

Because he’s evil.

It was funny when my son said it, but a little chilling. You know how I worry. What if Isaiah is going to become one of those dreadful puritanical hate-preachers on low-budget cable TV? We should never have given him an Old Testament name. What if he sees with a child’s prescience that his brother really is evil? I’m failing as a parent. Failing failing failing.

So in the spirit of practicing what I preach about considering how our actions incite others, I think on the conversations they’ve overheard, in which I question someone’s motives, in which I denounce some political figure or corporate charlatan, in which I rail against the people tearing down Western civilization.

Yes, that happens a lot at our dinner table. I like to imagine one of them will write a colorful biography about their father one day.

There’s my muttering about this church or that company, about a neighbor who lets her kids run up and down the street all night. And let’s not even consider the things I say while driving.

I don’t know why we want to think the worst of people, except maybe because it allows us, in a false and perverse way, to think better of ourselves. “Thank God I’m not like that tax collector,” said the Pharisee on his holy road to hell. Isn’t that each of us, in our own hearts, every day? No matter what we’ve done, we can always find someone worse. Thank God.

We think the worst of people, and we say it, and it’s a cleverly disguised way of saying we are good people, or maybe just that if God is in the business of paying people back, there’s a long list of folks he should scorch before he turns his awful eyes to us. It’s a small and mean kind of prison-camp thinking when you ponder it, but here we are.

And here I am, and here are these children, doing as I do instead of as I say, yet again, and the hard truth is all my saying doesn’t matter one tiny damn unless I change my doing. I want them to be better than me. How I want them to be better than me. But the thing is: I can’t send them down that road alone, can I?

I remember: “Quarantined, do not enter!”

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By Doris Schroeder

Recently the front page of the Hutchinson News showed some old quarantine signs that used to be used when our city had trouble with small pox, chicken pox, scarlet fever, and whooping cough.

How well I remember some of those days!  When my sister Luella was still alive and I was around  one and a half to two years old, we lived in a rented house on West 9th St. for a short while.. I probably remember a few things then because my sis was about two and a half years older than me, and took really good care of me. We would play with the neighbor kids and she made sure I was all right. Consequently I knew I could feel secure.

One day she and I watched through the lace curtains for Mom to come home from the grocery store. We had to stay home during a time by ourselves because we had chicken pox and were quarantined.

There were no more times we had a sign on our door during Luella’s time on this earth and I had an enjoyable life, even though we moved around a lot.

After Luella was accidentally killed by a neighbor boy on West 14th, I became the only child for a few years until my sister Carol was born when I was seven.

We  had moved to a house on West 6th, and I attended Allen Kindergarten. It was held in a white frame building on the other end of the block of where the big stone school was located. I received my first vaccination for whooping cough at the old school. I remember we waited to go in line to the nurse and I was dreading it with all my mind, imagining how much it would hurt, only to be pleasantly surprised that it hardly hurt at all!

Then  we moved to my grandparents’ farm for a year, to McFarland, California, Riverside, Ambrose and back to McFarland. One day my Dad told me we were going to move back to the farm and I was ecstatic. We were there for about three and a half years and when my grandparents sold the farm, moved back to Hutchinson.

I went from a one-room country school to a large Junior High in Hutchinson.

It was totally different than the country but I thought it exciting. Many times my girl friend from the farm who had also moved to Hutch and I walked the many blocks to and from school. It was easier than walking across a plowed field so we didn’t mind.

One day in Fall, however, stands out in my mind. I had eaten lunch at the school and wasn’t feeling too good. We had chili that day and I was eager to get home. I had also developed the chills and an upset stomach and thought the long trip to home would never end.

I barely made it into our little house before throwing up. No one was home, my dad had come home from the filling station he ran and took Mom to the grocery store since she didn’t drive.

By the time they got home, I was burning up with fever and couldn’t even swallow the saliva in my mouth. They called the doctor and he came right out. He said I had streppe throat as well as scarlet fever. We had a big sign put on our front door that stated NO Entering, SCARLET FEVER!

That meant all four of us would need to stay in our little four room house for two weeks.  I worried about getting behind in my school work but we got in touch with our former farm neighbors and they agreed to come to the back door for our list and buy our groceries. My girl friend Ruth would get my assignments from school and bring my books to me.

My dad also got scarlet fever but we had a delightful family time. We’d sit around our little eating table and talk about anything and everything. Mom, of course, loved to cook and we enjoyed her delicacies all the more. It was definitely a fun time and we were almost disappointed when we could again come and go. God is good and He never gives more than we can handle…in fact, it was a wonderful family time I will always cherish!

It is interesting that when John and I had our own family, we were never quarantined for any disease. I’m sure that is because of the vaccinations they were given in a more up-to-date world. Some things are great, however, I will always have special memories of the time we were quarantined. Life had slowed down for a time!

Doris welcomes your comments and can be reached at [email protected]

Outlook For Agriculture Discussions During Farm Profit Conference At Westmoreland

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Darrell Holaday
Darrell Holiday

By Frank J. Buchman

 

Like always, there are bad times with the good, and producers need to know both sides.

 

An outlook for agriculture production is to be presented during the Farm Profit Conference, Wednesday evening, March 18, at the elementary school in Westmoreland.

 

“This will be the final of four programs presented by 580 WIBW this winter, and the speakers have indicated several changes have occurred in the economic outlook in recent weeks,” according to Kelly Lenz, conference coordinator and longtime farm director of 580 WIBW, event host.

 

Mary Knapp
Mary Knapp

Coordinated in cooperation with the Pottawatomie County Extension Service, the conference will get underway shortly after 5 o’clock, when doors of the school at 205 South Fourth Street are set to open. A large number of sponsors will have a diverse display of booths set up to discuss their offerings with those attending.

 

The complimentary beef supper begins at 6 o’clock, and the informational panel will start presentations at 6:45.

 

Whatever technology and management used, farm and ranch profitability is ultimately determined by the uncontrollable weather. But, it’s important to attempt to work the best ways possible with nature’s overpowering elements, and Mary Knapp, the assistant state climatologist from Manhattan, will present “The 2015 Weather Outlook,” as the kickoff speaker.

 

Aaron Popelka (Head Shot)-1
Aaron Popelka

Several issues are before the Kansas Legislature which could have a dramatic effect on landowners, and all types of agriculture producers. Aaron Popelka, vice president of legal and governmental affairs for the Kansas Livestock Association headquartered in Topeka, is to present an update on the daily forever changing “Kansas Tax Legislation.”

 

Always the climax speaker for Farm Profit Conferences, Darrell Holiday of Country Futures at Frankfort will verify “The Sky Is Not Falling, But There Is A Heavy Fog,” during his dynamic, factually supported, but most entertaining discussion.

 

Again, the Farm Profit Conference is all free to everybody. But, to make sure nobody goes without the beef supper, reservations are essential. They should be made by calling the Pottawatomie County Extension Service, at 785-457-3319, or e-mail [email protected] . This must be done no later than noon on March 17, so the beef can be prepared to its ultimate tenderness and tastiness.

 

Farm Profit Conferences hosted by 580 WIBW, at Rossville, Council Grove and Ottawa earlier this winter, have attracted record attendance with nearly 600 farmers, ranchers and agriculture business affiliates participating in the sessions.