Category Archives: Causes and Friends

Posts regarding causes–mine and those of some friends.

Finding the right resource…

NAMI Maine provides some great resources for me as a Gatekeeper and Trainer for the Suicide Awareness and Prevention Program. I was recently reviewing their updated PowerPoint Presentation and noticed that, frankly, the numbers aren’t getting better.

The most recent data shows, for example, that Maine consistently has higher suicide death rates than both the U.S. and the Northeast. For 2016, the rate in Maine was over 50% higher than the rate in the U.S.

Rather than analyze that data, it is obvious that we each need to consider how we might contribute to decreasing this rate. One reality the data doesn’t always reveal is the complexity of the issue. Yes, we can generalize. But explaining the problem doesn’t resolve it.

Most people underestimate their ability to help. It starts with being able to recognize the risk factors and warning signs and continues with a simple intervention. In the workshop, we address a basic model that doesn’t require a lot of skill or knowledge of psychology. It’s a three-step process.

  • Show you care and are concerned
  • Ask questions including whether or not the person is considering self-harm or suicide
  • Get help and resources for the person.

Based on some of the conversations I’ve had recently with people who are trying to help others, that last step can actually be the most difficult. So this morning I spent a few minutes creating a guide to finding the right phone number to call. You can download a copy right here: Finding the Right Resource.

Many people do not realize that you do not have to be suicidal to use these resources. If you are trying to help someone you think is in danger, you can call 2-1-1 Maine, the “Warm Line,” and or the Crisis Line and ask for help getting help.

It also happens that I have a workshop coming up next week, sponsored by RSU 19 Adult Education at Nokomis Regional in Newport. There’s no charge to attend, all that’s required is a couple of hours of your time. Hope to see you there!

Making Change and making change

You don’t have to know me too well to know that I have a great deal of respect and interest for Amish Folks. In fact, there’s a chapter in Small People, Big Brains based in part on my experience with a young Amish girl in the Lancaster, Pennsylvania area. It’s about, well, “Making Change and Making Change.”

That chapter was recently posted (with permission, of course) on the website Amish America. Amish America is a great site for those who have an interest in the Amish. I’ve been visiting and commenting on the site for a few years now and have become acquainted with Erik Wesner, the site owner and manager. While sharing some thoughts recently on the value of tradition, he expressed some interest in posting the chapter.

So you have the opportunity for a twofer! You can read the chapter and explore some things about the Amish both in the chapter and on the site. It’s included in a post that starts with some interesting photos from an Amish clock shop and a William Penn Land Grant Document… just click this link and keep scrolling down.

Twas the week before Christmas…

I count myself fortunate when I get to spend some time at school with the kids as Christmas approaches. Admittedly, it can be a bit crazy as energy levels are high and the kids are “wound up.” But I try to enjoy their energy and stay focused on the tasks at hand.

One of the questions I had during my most recent assignment was a bit different. “Mr. Boomsma, how do you make the letter “o” in cursive?” It’s not as easy to answer as one might think but I share it for those who complain the schools aren’t teaching cursive any more. (It turned out the question was actually about the little “hooky thing” that connects it to the next letter.)

The second question was a bit more difficult. A fifth grade boy was not kidding–the question was sincere. “Mr. Boomsma, is Santa Claus real?”

Fortunately, his neighbor interceded, assuring him that Santa Claus was very real. She’d seen him and told the story of her sighting in great detail. However, I should have known I wasn’t off the hook. He looked at me and asked, “Have YOU seen him?” The look on the girl seemed to say they’d both like some assurance.

I’d recently read the news story of a substitute teacher who was ultimately terminated after telling a first-grade class that Santa Claus isn’t real. So like the cursive question, this is not quite as simple as it might first seem.

If it wasn’t Christmas Eve, we might explore several techniques one can use when asked a difficult question. I answered his question by telling him and his seatmate a story, emphasizing it was absolutely true. I will share it with you.

When I was about six, I began to question Santa’s existence. Some of the kids I went to school with were quite convinced “your parents are Santa.” As luck would have it, we were having a “green Christmas” without a hint of snow. So our spirits were dampened and it was easy to believe in something less magical and fun.

To fully appreciate what happened, I need to explain that we lived in a very small town, miles away from any airports or flight paths. We rarely saw or heard planes.

That Christmas Eve announced to my Dad that I was pretty sure there was no such thing as Santa Claus. I reached this conclusion primarily based on the fact there was no snow. His sleigh wouldn’t work.

Since there was no question to answer, my Dad stated, in a rather matter-of-fact tone, “Oh, he comes in a helicopter when there’s no snow.” I was then sent outside to do one of my nightly chores.

It was not the first time I found myself truly torn. I could usually figure out when Dad was teasing but I believed with all my heart that he would never lie to me. Still, his explanation somehow didn’t feel right and I couldn’t detect that little smile that gave him away when he was teasing or joking. It was quiet and cold outside. I wondered if I should continue the conversation when I returned to the warmth inside.

While I was contemplating this, I heard a noise off in the distance… “whomp, whomp,..” Omigod! A helicopter! It flew right over my head, very low, lights flashing! I hurriedly finished my chore, ran back into the house, climbed the stairs two at a time and jumped into bed with my clothes on, pulling the covers up to my neck and pretending to be asleep.

The kids at school seemed to enjoy my story and accepted it at face value. So do I. I don’t really know where that helicopter came from and why it flew over our house at precisely that moment. But I do know that I learned some things about the magic of Christmas and the importance of believing.

Telling the story reminded of another person who was asked almost the same question. In 1897, Francis Pharcellus Church, a former Civil War correspondent and editor at the New York Sun, received a letter from the then 8-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon questioning Santa’s existence. His answer is not just for kids. It speaks to the innocent joy of childhood and the power of belief. There’s a link at the bottom of this post. It’s important to read it.

My wish for you this Christmas is that you too might hear a helicopter… or hear or experience whatever it takes to help you believe in all of the things Christmas is supposed to be about.

We shall not sleep…

In a strange irony, while searching for a file this morning I found a copy of the remarks I made at the closing of the dedication of Abbot’s Veteran’s Memorial in 2011. It seems appropriate to repost them today.


Several folks have asked me about the poppy I’m wearing today. I won’t take the time to tell you the entire poppy story, but they’ve been around for nearly one hundred years. I would encourage you to learn that story. Many of you probably do know the poem about them.

…to you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

I believe when John McCrae penned the last stanza of that famous poem, he was challenging us to fully understand that peace and passion are so closely related they may be inseparable.

The torch we’ve been thrown is about passion. Without passion, there can be no peace.

Let’s truly understand the debt we have to our Veterans—a debt to have the same passion as they did for those things that matter, and a debt to live in the peace their passion made possible.