Leslie Wilcox Blogs

NewsHour's "Civil Discourse"

     I just turned off a national TV news show in which a reporter freely mixed fact with opinion and in which guests shouted over each other to make their points, which I didn't "get" because they were talking at the same time.

    It's easy to see why PBS Hawaii viewers describe the NewsHour with Jim Lehrer as an "oasis." When on rare occasions there's a disruption in our regular weeknight telecast of the program, we hear about it from our supporters. Our phones ring and there's a surge of email. The next day, hand-written letters of complaint arrive.

     That's because the NewsHour is a sane place in the television news universe. It provides even-handed, in-depth discussion of public issues. Viewers don't have to face the prospect of shouting matches, facts laced with opinions, and a fixation on personalities, celebrities and absolutes.

      Jim Lehrer calls the NewsHour a "civil discourse."

     "One of the most serious losses we as a society have suffered in recent years is that of civil discourse," he says.

      Around this time of year, Lehrer is in national demand as a university commencement speaker.  He rarely gives a commencement address without urging graduates to rise to the top and hold down the noise!

     "Be civil, be fair," he tells grads. "There is a meanness of communication alive in the land right now...We are civilized people. We should disagree in a civilized manner. We should acknowledge the possibility that sometimes...we might be wrong and that we might learn more from listening than from talking, more from talking than from shouting."

     Lehrer mentions two journalistic guidelines that jump out at me, because they were part of my creed, too, during my years in news:

--Cover every story with the care I would want if the story were about me.

--Cover every story with respect for the viewer's intelligence.

     No wonder our viewers don't want disruptions in receiving the NewsHour. Its unvarnished philosophy, both simple and profound, is in short supply on the airwaves.

     Pseudo-news programs can yell all they want. I can't hear what's being said, so I'm not listening.

"Pono" Is A Very Big Word

      It has so few letters, to  trigger such a long definition.  And even with a string of words making up the definition, pono is still tough to grasp in words.

      Pono, according to the Pukui/Elbert Hawaiian dictionary, means goodness, uprightness, morality, moral qualities, correct or proper procedure, excellence, well-being, prosperity, welfare, benefit, behalf, equity, proper, righteous, right, upright, just, virtuous, fair, beneficial, successful...and more.

       Tonight at 8:30 on PBS Hawaii, UH College of Education staffer Lilette Subedi says: "(Pono) is intangible in many ways. It's very difficult to express it or articulate it in words. That's why it's much easier to see pono in action."

       In tonight's locally produced program, E Ola Pono, featured on our Pacific Showcase, we'll see pono in action at two public schools in Hawaiian Homelands communities.

      At Blanche Pope Elementary in Waimanalo, Windward Oahu, elevating the Hawaiian value of pono has improved student focus and behavior. At Keaukaha Elementary in Hilo, Hawaii, upholding pono has led to improvements in student conduct, academic performance and community participation.

         There's less finger-pointing about who's right. It's all about what's right.

        "I think we have to look beneath our feet and around us," says Subedi says. Pono is more of a foundation. So it comes from beneath us, it comes into us, it permeates us. It comes from above and around us. It's all over. Pono is the term specific to our Native Hawaiian ancestors."

         Kudos to PBS Hawaii's Robert Pennybacker and independent producer Joy Chong-Stannard and everyone else who contributed, for their work on E Ola Pono.

Mayor Kim Doesn't "Do Lunch"

       What's a Hawaii lobbyist to do with a politician who marches to a different pahu (drum)?

       Jeans-clad Hawaii Island Mayor Harry Kim ("Call me Harry") doesn't go out to lunch, isn't interested in golf, declines most invitations on the "rubber chicken" dinner circuit, and his idea of material comfort is clean drinking water, food, and a roof that doesn't leak.

        In 2000, the just-retired County Civil Defense director was an unconventional political candidate, entering the Mayor's race at the last minute and setting a $10 limit on campaign contributions. More than seven years into his second four-year term, he's been a consistently unorthodox Mayor.

        Speaking on tonight's "Long Story Short" on PBS Hawaii, Kim said developers and others representing special interests had been operating in an atmosphere created by some of  "us politicians" that involved, well, expectations from those seeking County favors.

         "I know this is gonna be misinterpreted, but I'll say it," he said.

          "...They're no fools, they're not gonna do something that's gonna hurt 'em. They're doing things that they feel they need to do...You know, I joked with them. I said, you know, any money you had to spend on me, just give it to charity on this island."

         "A lot of them have," he said.

           He cited a new community project in Kona built by developer Stanford Carr. 

           "That was his contribution, on his own. We didn't ask for it, you know, he donated it."

           What's Harry Kim's plan in less than 10 months, when he's pau as Mayor?  He doesn't have hobbies and doesn't enjoy traveling.  He likes to work. He mentions going back to teaching, perhaps, or working on some level for peace.

             Kim was viewed by Democrats as a strong contender for Governor in 2006,  if he'd just agree to run. He kept supporters waiting for about a year before giving his answer. He explained he felt it would be wrong not to complete the mayoral term he'd asked Hawaii Islanders to give him.

             I notice, in our "Long Story Short" conversation, that  he doesn't rule out running for Governor in 2010. Wonder what he's hearing from his different drummer.

      ***This installment of "Long Story Short" repeats at 2:30 pm Sunday, March 30, 2008.***

Happy Easter, but not Happy Good Friday

     I'm a former television news anchor and I've regretted a few ad-libbed remarks in my time, especially on a three-and-a-half-hour daily morning newscast that was partially unscripted.

      I also have read, out loud, mistakes in copy that should have been caught before they made it to the Teleprompter. For example, a rookie news producer turned in a story telling how Memorial Day was being "celebrated." I was NOT a rookie, and yet I said that on the air.  I had to apologize hastily, noting that the holiday was being "observed," not celebrated. I still wince, thinking of it.

     So on this Easter Sunday, I wonder if a CNN anchor has second thoughts about what my husband heard him say on Friday. Big toothy smile at the end of the news hour: "Happy Good Friday!"

    Does he know that in Christianity, Good Friday is a day of sorrow, commemorating Christ's painful death on the cross? Perhaps the anchor was caught off-guard or just wasn't thinking. 

    Or maybe it's a reflection of the secular observance of the day.

     After all, in a few states including Hawaii, Good Friday is a paid government holiday.  As a journalist, I covered a long-running legal challenge  to this  holiday. Nearly two decades ago, in 1991, a federal appeals court ruled that the State of Hawaii and the City of Honolulu weren't favoring a religion, they were just giving government workers a day off.

      Still, the holiday is called Good Friday, and it refers to a crucifixion. "Happy" doesn't belong until the three-day weekend moves to Easter, dedicated to the belief that Christ rose from the dead.

      I hope that come December 7, nobody wishes Americans a "Happy Pearl Harbor Day!"

Won't You Be My Neighbor and Wear a Sweater?

   I'll admit it. When Fred Rogers became a household name in the late sixties and early seventies on the PBS show "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood," I thought he was smarmy and weasel-y.  I was a teenager, snickering with my friends, speculating what he was REALLY like.

     Then I babysat a couple of kids who insisted on watching him. He sang one of his songs intended to calm childhood fears. I thought it was ridiculous. The song assured kids that they wouldn't be sucked down the bathtub drain, because they wouldn't fit. Pretty dumb, I thought. But I watched the effect the song had on my young charges and suddenly realized Mister Rogers knew what he was doing. He was addressing a need that might not be met otherwise.

     Turns out Mister Rogers really was what he presented himself to be-- a nice guy. Legions of people attested to his dedication and integrity.

      Fred Rogers died of stomach cancer five years ago, at the age of 74, and left a legacy of kindness. 

      In remembrance, the public is being asked tomorrow to wear a sweater, just as the warm and fuzzy TV host did. Mister Rogers' old sidekick, Mr. McFeely, is featured on this videotape encouraging the commemmoration by sweater.

     I'm going to wear one, in tribute to an educator who addressed children's needs and made their world a friendlier place. 

     But I must admit, I still laugh out loud at re-runs of Eddie Murphy's skit on Saturday Night Live, playing Mister Rogers as a folksy house burglar. Since Fred Rogers was a regular guy, he probably got a kick out of the performance too. 

      This sweater's for Mister Rogers!

    

    

Happy/Sad St. Patrick's Day...

      My father died in a car crash 10 years ago and it's on Saint Patrick's Day every year that I miss him most. If he were alive, he'd be out buying the largest bottles of green food coloring he could find and coloring his world. He'd create green beer, of course. And, combining his love for Ireland and Dr. Seuss, he'd make green eggs and ham for all comers.

      He was a history and genealogy buff who researched all of his 9 blood lines, including Cherokee, where he got his high cheekbones. But it was his Irish background, reflected in his mischievous blue Irish eyes, that most captivated him.

      He made sure four of his five children had Irish names--Stephen, Patrick, Timothy, Shannon (after the Irish river.)  I'm the exception. Leslie is of Scottish origin. He explained he picked it because:  1) it was his middle name; 2) he'd run across a Scottish poem, "Bonnie Leslie," with the line, "to see her is to love her, and love but her forever."

     So on this Saint Patrick's Day, I toast my late father with a green beer and a look at his collection of Irish limericks that made him laugh. Happy St. Pat's Day, Dad.

Moment of Zen

    Sharing a story from H. Evan Woodhead:

      A Zen master took on a new student who had studied under several other masters. During their first session, the student spoke of his past studies and achievements.

     The master listened patiently until a servant appeared with a tray of tea.

     "Please pour the tea," the master told the apprentice. "I will tell you when to stop."

       The student eagerly seized the pot and poured tea into the master's cup, stopping when the tea reached the brim.

       "Keep pouring," the master instructed. He watched peacefully as tea spilled over the sides of his cup and onto the table.

      "The cup is already full," the student protested. "The tea is being wasted."

       "You have a lot in common with this cup," said the master. "You are already so full of knowledge that there is no room for more. Would my wisdom be wasted on you?"

        The student looked down.

        "Don't despair. There is still hope," the master said, as he overturned his cup and spilled the tea on the floor. "An empty cup can hold more than one that is already full."

         Moral: Sometimes in order to learn what you need to know, you need to forget what you think you know.

Hands-on Science

     I was never a science scholar but I always enjoyed doing science experiments, particularly those involving fire. Some of them went awry, like the time  in seventh grade my table broke out in flames and threatened to spread,  in Mr. Dubke's class at Niu Valley Intermediate School. I found out I was better at staying calm in an emergency than using laboratory tools safely.

      In eighth grade, in Mrs. Woo's science class, I reluctantly stayed away from fire-related projects and worked with my buddy Nodie Namba on an experiment involving plant toxins. We won the school science fair and went on to represent the Honolulu district in the State Science Fair, where our effort paled in comparison to other kids' very advanced projects. Nodie and I were very cheerful losers; we were entranced at the brilliant approaches of some of our peers and the high caliber of their work.

      To this day, I always look for news of student work in the State Science Fair.

       When I saw the Wired Science's blog network post its "Top 10 Amazing Chemistry Videos," I thought I'd share the site with you.  (Unfortunately, the PBS Wired Science show won't be coming back with new episodes, but its website remains.)  My favorite video in the post involves a test involving thermite, a pyrotechnic composition that can create short hot bursts focused on a small target.  (Yep, I still don't think fire in an experiment is a bad thing.)

       Just go to http://blog.wired.com/wiredscience/2008/03/top -10-amazing.html

Postcard from Broadway

       Good thing these nice ladies didn't tell Loretta Ables Sayre their last names when they introduced themselves before her audition--the one that resulted in her winning the role of "Bloody Mary" in the first Broadway production of Rodgers & Hammerstein's "South Pacific" since 1949.

       "I would have been so nervous---talk about pressure!" she said.      

       Turns out Mary on the left is Mary Rodgers and Alice on the right is Alice Hammerstein. The women are the daughters of, well, Rodgers & Hammerstein.

         Loretta, best known as an Island singer at Halekulani and the Kahala,  is part of our PBS Hawaii family. She's familiar as our Daybook Voice, the narrator of program information throughout the broadcast day. (Laurie-Ann Salomon has now stepped in to lend her wonderful voice to our station.)

         Local-girl Loretta keeps getting good news: The production has broken box office records for ticket sales. While the official opening isn't until April 3, the musical has opened its curtains for previews. The Lincoln Center theatre was sold out and there were standing ovations.

          By April 3rd, she says, "the show should be in tip top shape."

          We wish Loretta well in this glorious opportunity of a lifetime!

A Resounding Yes to PBS

     "Is PBS Still Necessary?"

      That was the question asked in a Sunday arts piece in the New York Times.  I happened to be in New York City, reading the paper.

     The newspaper suggested that PBS has become musty and tired in today's television universe of hundreds of channels.

     It's a fair question. I thought of something the philosopher Bertrand Russell said: "...It's a healthy thing now and then to hang a question on things you have long taken for granted."

     OK, now that the question has been put out there, what's the answer? For literally thousands who posted comments on the New York Times website and at PBS outlets, it is: you betcha.

     Here's a sampling:

--"Is PBS necessary? Hmm, I suppose it's not a basic human necessity  anymore than playgrounds or state parks or libraries are."

--"PBS is unique among broadcasters because its sources of funds, try as they might, cannot directly control content."

--"PBS is the only thing you can trust; the content has not been diluted or compromised by commercial dollars. In this day of...corporate monopolies and blatant product placement, it is important to protect gems like PBS."

--"Unless you want to learn about mega-tsunamis, mega-tornadoes, killer asteroids, the history of the toothpick or Jesus' brother, commercial television absolutely fails to provide decent educational programming. PBS does education better than all the commercial stations combined."

    And here's a portion of filmmaker Ken Burns' response: "In a TV environment of fast-paced shows, PBS may not always appear the sleekest. But for those of us who have submitted our professional lives to public service in broadcasting, it feels more like the fable of the tortoise and the hare. What we lack in speed, we make up for in persistence--and on insistence on doing things well and doing things that last."