By Gary K. Clabaugh, Professor
Emeritus, La Salle University
Rewritten 8/16/16
In
olden times, when hope still mattered, a frog named Horace treasured tadpols.
When they thrived, Horace was very, very happy. When they failed to thrive,
Horace was very, very sad.
Horace lived in the Kingdom of
the Frogs where Bullfrogs reigned supreme. These puffed up monsters took up the
best end of the pond, ate a great deal more than they needed, croaked so loudly
no one else could be heard, and conducted their most important business
hidden deep in the bottom muck.
Tadpoles need nurturing
and ordinary frogs used community nurturaries to provide that. In fact, they
paid taxes to the Bullfrogs for nurturary upkeep. The Bullfrogs,
on the other hand, cared little about community nurturaries because they enrolled
their own tadpoles in very expensive, private ones. Here their tadpoles were exempted
from the omnipresent tests and measurements imposed on lesser tadpoles by the
Bullfrogs.
One day the Bullfrogs mysteriously began harrumphing loudly that state run nurturaries were awful.
A King-appointed blue ribbon panel of powerful Bullfrogs even proclaimed, "If another
kingdom were responsible for the awful condition of our pond nurturaries it
would be a cause for war." (Bullfrogs frequently found causes for wars —
though they never fought in them.)
The panel ignored the fact that Bullfrogs ultimately determined the funding of community nurturaries. Sub-adequate budgets helped create sub-adequate conditions. Plus these conditions closely reflected frog living conditions in the
ever-growing stagnant end of the pond. And because they controlled the water
flow the Bullfrogs determined how much of the pond was stagnant.
Anyway, as Horace came of
age he thought, and thought (in the way that only frogs can think), about what
to do with his life. "I know!" he finally decided, "I'll nurture
tadpoles."
Certification was
necessary to become a tadpole nurturer. But that process was undemanding
because of the ongoing need for inexpensive, compliant nurturers. Besides, at Amphibian
University, which had a Bullfrog controlled board of trustees, the weak-kneed tadpole-nurturing
program was viewed as little more than a source of tuition income.
When it turned out that the
undemanding certification standards still were too demanding for the casually
committed, the Bullfrogs set up alternative routes to certification. "Nurture
for the Kingdom," was one example. When this Bullfrog supported endeavor was created, a Bullfrog official
solemnly croaked, "Alternative certification opens tadpole nurturing
careers to bright young frogs who otherwise would choose another vocation."
Horace wondered (as best a
frog can wonder), "Since tadpoles are so very important for our frog
future, why do the Bullfrogs make it ever easier to become a tadpole nurturer?" Meanwhile the Bullfrogs continued to stoke dissatisfaction with community nurturaries. They began croaking that these nurturaries would be much better if for-profit Bullfrog firms were to take over their management at public expense. (Bullfrogs are very enthusiastic about profit making — especially when it’s at public expense.) Anyway, Horace too easily achieved certification at Amphibian U. and signed up for a job as a community tadpole nurturer in the most stagnant part of the pond.
Horace was delighted to nurture young tadpoles. But he soon discovered that while he and his fellow tadpole nurturers
were held accountable, they had no say about how the nurturary was run
or what nurturing materials were available. Worse still, nourishment and
oxygen were in scant supply at that end of the pond. Those scarcities made the tadpoles much harder to nurture.
Sometimes the half-suffocated tadpoles even turned on one another, or on a frog nurturer.
Some blamed Bullfrog rules
and inadequate funding for this nurturary’s plight. Others blamed it on the frog
administrator’s who had sold out in order to feel more like a Bullfrog. Still
others thought local community nurturary board member’s lack of knowledge was
at fault. (Board members weren’t required to know anything about tadpoles or
teaching.)
In
fact ignorance of tadpole teaching was common at all levels of community
tadpole nurturary management. Even the Bullfrog who was Secretary of Tadpole Nurturance
possessed none of this knowledge whatsoever. But he was well connected in the
pond and very skilled at croaky solemnity. Ignoring the many environmental factors
limiting tadpole growth, for instance, he pompously advised tadpole nurturers that
if they just had "higher expectations" their tadpoles would thrive.
About this time the Frog
King emerged from the muck on the bottom of the pond, swam to the surface,
stuck his thick Bullfrog head out of the water, and croaked out a royal decree.
"Henceforth," he thrummed, "every tadpole succeeds!" And
with that, the King dove back down into the muck. (Little, if any, additional money for
tadpole nurturance accompanied the King’s declaration).
The Bullfrogs declared that all community
tadpole nurturaries must regularly measure and report tadpole growth. The results
were proclaimed throughout the land and community tadpole nurturaries were held
publicly accountable." (There was not even a mention of measuring tadpole
growth in the private nurturaries that served the Bullfrog's offspring.)
The Bullfrogs assured frogs
with tadpoles that they had the right to transfer them to other community nurturaries
if theirs got low scores. In reality, such transfers were very difficult. But
that didn’t stop the Bullfrogs from boasting about the policy.
Horace and his fellow tadpole
nurturers wondered how they could be held responsible if the tadpoles were
under their care only six and a half hours a day, five days a week, 180 days of
the year. The rest of the time (and that was a great deal of time indeed), tadpoles
were "cared for" at home by their frog mothers and fathers — if the
later could even be found.
In fact, by the time frog
parents brought their tadpoles to the nurturary to be taught, their all-important
early growth period was already over and the damage inflicted at home was more
or less permanent. For this reason Horace often got tadpoles with needs that
were well beyond his simple skills. He struggled bravely (or at least as
bravely as a frog can struggle), But try as he might Horace could not get the environmentally stunted tadpoles to meet the Bullfrog's puffed up standards. He even tried expecting more, as
the Bullfrogs advised, but that that just made things worse.
“I guess I’m not
very good at expecting,” Horace said to himself.
About this time a
Bullfrog-owned and approved charter corporation took over the community nurturary where Horace
worked. Despite strenuous denials, the bottom line was no longer tadpole nurturing but profit making.
Changes were introduced but tadpole growth did not improve. In fact, fewer tadpoles
blossomed than before. But at least the Bullfrogs were more content.
With the coming of summer,
nurturing ended. And there was a sad new weariness in Horace's bulgy eyes. He
still loved tadpoles. Only now he kept dwelling on their frequent failure to
thrive. He spent most of the summer
thinking about his future. Should he keep nurturing or not? In the end his love
of tadpoles won out. Hoping things would improve he returned to his job in the community
nurturary.
Actually, things were worse.
Thanks to Bullfrog owned, for-profit management love of tadpoles was entirely absent. Making a profit was all that mattered. And because the Bullfrog set standards
were impossibly difficult for damaged tadpoles, some nurturers started cheating.
Horace would have none of
that. He played by the rules and continued to do his best. "Worthwhile
things are seldom easy," he would say to himself. But reality slowly
smothered what was left of his hope. Finally, after a particularly discouraging
day (and frogs aren’t easily discouraged), Horace just hopped sadly away, never
to be seen again.
Some say he hopped to
another pond where there were no Bullfrogs. Others say Bullfrogs dominate every
pond in the world and that Horace died of a broken heart. In any case, he is
gone — forever.
THE END
