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ANDRÉ OBERLE — Born in Germany in 1944, by a single mother who married a stepfather for me—as she put it—when I was six years old. Unfortunately, I then grew up in a broken home with a violent drunkard as a “father” and an irrational mother. After several suicide attempts, he emigrated to Canada. One year later he made my mother and me (I was 14) move to Canada.

Despite inadequate English language skilIs, I finished high school in Toronto and was accepted into the University of Toronto’s Honors Program where I earned my BA (Hons) and MA. I married my sweetheart, Cathy, in 1969 and I became a professor at the University of Winnipeg teaching theater and German Culture Studies. I earned my PhD in German Studies in Kingston, Ontario.

Back in Winnipeg, I became department head, a dean of curriculum and faculty development. I also founded the University of Winnipeg’s Center for Innovation in Teaching and Learning and became its director. At the same time, we bought a small sheep farm as a hobby farm south of Winnipeg.

My wife and companion of 35 wonderful years died in 1999, and, after 37 years of service, I retired from the Univer­sity of Winnipeg in 2005 and moved to Scran­ton, PA in the United States to become the director of the Center for Teach­ing and Learning Excellence at the University of Scranton.

I retired from that post in 2011 and now live in Connecticut with my husband Ed whom I married in 2009. We are happy traveling, and playing with our wonderful grandchildren, and just taking it easy. Oh, and I continue to write reams and reams of poetry—just for myself. I am very spiritual, artistic, Gay, Buddhist without a sangha, a pronounced empath. I adore animals and nature, love to cook, find music necessary, read incessantly, etc.

Meeting the Chameleon That’s You I USED A LINE TO INDICATE SYANZAS OF TANKA

want to know yourself?

well, that’s rather difficult—

the mirror and you

are just not the same at all

you see what you want to see

────̜────̜

so, what can we do?

first, let go of what you’re not

then, just build from scratch—

ask what things you are for sure

meditate and work on it

────̜────̜

most importantly

keep an open mind to change—

question if you think

you are absolutely sure

don’t ignore thing you don’t like

────̜────̜

keep working at it

you’re still a work in progress

rough sketch at best

don’t despair and you’ll succeed

Rome was not built in one day

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Ana Do's avatar

Here's a bit of ramble. I am about to plagiarize myself and write down the words I've already written, but I've been mulling on this for a few days now. Perhaps the best answer to your question is that I am, on my best days, a comedy of errors. Here's a day in a life:

I tripped the alarm in Kiet's shop the other day. No surprise there - I never learned how to turn it off. I've been showing up for everyone else for years, at expense of showing up to so many parts of my life. It is a choice a made and it has given me so much purpose and joy. It is also a choice that was made so much easier by the fact that Kiet just goes with it and cares for me (and by extension for all the families he will never meet). But the other morning, I tried to call him back and he didn't answer. I figured he was welding or something, so didn't think about it more. An hour later, I tried calling again and there was still no answer. I texted: Are you ok? No answer. I stopped by the house and he wasn't there. And then, the "I worry all the time now" switch turned on and I was convinced he fell from a great height, welder in-hand, fractured ribs, broken back, traumatic brain injury. I called again. No answer. I told myself I was nuts, but just in case, I would stop by the shop and say hi, so I can go back to work in peace. He wasn't parked outside the shop. He's been working on a camper-build and I figured he's just moved the vehicle inside, so I used my key and walked through the office. All was quiet. I open the door to the shop - no Kiet and no truck. The alarm goes off. I just stand there and think: Well, f*&k. I know the security company will call him, but he's not answering. They call me. They are about to turn the alarm off, as I remember that he's meeting with a client (which he clearly told me, while I was thinking a million other things last night). The alarm goes quiet. Thank God. I'm clearly nuts. They need the passcode to leave it off. Of course, I have no idea - though it was told to me before. Now, they have to dispatch the police. I should just stay there and let them know it's all my fault and it's all good. But I don't. I decide to drive to his meeting, which I now remember entirely, and ask him to fix it. Because I know he will. He always does. I interrupt the meeting, like a clueless 40-some-year-old child. Kiet calls the company, calls off the cops, gets the alarm turned off, and then looks at me. He doesn't call me crazy (as he should), doesn't make fun of me (as most would), doesn't curse or shake his head. He just looks at me lovingly and says: Are you ok? The end.

I hope when this is all said and done, I too am someone remembered for such a reaction. Here's to all those caring for the irrational in us. And writing our names on the keys and coffee cups, so they can find their way back to us.

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