Peace, Walk, Now: Chapter 4, Global Economics & Ho’oponopono

September 2017 - Boulder, Colorado

Monday after Brunch

The Monday after Saturday’s anxiety attack, after the wretched Sunday brunch from hell, I decided to go out exploring and give Boulder another chance.

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Are you caught up with the storyline?

Read Chapter 1: Part-Time Disruptor

Read Chapter 2: Paradigm Shift

Read Chapter 3: Rad AF (Part 1)

Read Chapter 3: Radical Acts of Freedom (Part 2)

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Determined to continue my self guided walking-bus tour of Boulder, I looked up a local thrift shop near the University to survey as my local attraction for the day, hoping it would cheer me up.

Fun Fact: College kids in wealthy communities always trade in the best stuff.

It did not cheer me up.

I expected Boulder to be more of a walking town, but getting around was harder than it needed to be. What would have normally been an easy 20-minute walk to the bus stop near Dougg’s house left me winded and anxious. (Yes, I was already feeling this way to begin with, but that’s beside the point.)

My other reason for going Downtown was to scope out the University’s graduate program in Economics. I already had a Master’s degree in Business Administration and had been considering enrolling in a doctorate program.

One of my top-three most inspiring professors happened to be Dr. Gertmenian, Professor of Economics at my alma mater, Pepperdine University.

“Dr. Gertmenian served the Nixon and Ford administrations as a Chief Détente Negotiator in Moscow of the Chairman of the National Security Council, as emissary to Tehran for the Secretary of Commerce, and as Special Assistant to the Secretary of HUD. This corporate experience includes five years as COO of Ready Pac, President of Matrix Capital and Associates, and as CEO of the Jockeys’ Guild…

“Dr Gertmenian is an honorary citizen of China, and a Distinguished Professor of Pacific Rim Negotiations at two universities in Shandong Province. Each year, by special invitation from the Chinese government, he shepherds a group of graduate students, alumni, and friends on a springtime study tour of China and Tibet.”

Source: https://www.arcadiarotary.org/dr-l-wayne-gertmenian-economist-professor-of-economics/

Honorary citizen of China allowed by the Chinese government to take people on tours of Tibet? This takes a particular kind of skill set that can’t be taught in a textbook.

Dr. Gertmenian taught his class like no other Professor I have encountered. If you had him, you know exactly what I mean.

Three words: “LOOK AT ME.”

While he was talking, Dr. Gertmenian had a rule: you had to look directly at him. No checking phones, no looking out the window or at your neighbor or at your own fingernails, no reading your textbook, NO TAKING NOTES—pens down people! (His teaching aid emailed us class notes after every class.)

He was there to teach students how to operate as leaders, not as note-takers. According to him, everyone who had gotten into graduate level economics was already overqualified at note-taking. What we didn’t all know how to do yet was to engage with leaders, particularly leaders demanding undivided attention. He made it his mission to teach us.

His style required pupils to be fully alert, completely attentive, and absolutely prepared for Dr. Gertmenian to lock gazes with you at any given second and download invisible leadership prana into your energy field. His form, more equivalent to a martial arts master sensei than a graduate program master lecturer.

For years after taking his class, I retained a deep interest in joining the global economics conversation and implementing solutions to our modern day socio-economic problems.

Back then, I thought the way to do this is by earning a doctorate degree to gain the credentials and qualifications for people to listen to me. But here’s something they don’t teach in these programs: The allure of academia and the heavy marketing that goes into sustaining the “college dream” does a good job convincing us to invest in this dream; someone else’s dream.

Fun Fact: There’s more than one way to be heard.

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Once I reached campus, I discovered that fall classes at the University of Colorado Boulder had already started back up. I was able to get an on-the-spot appointment to see one of the counselors.

The admissions counselor recommended I speak with the head of the Graduate Program in Economics, who also happened to be on campus that day.

That sounded great! I was beginning to feel hopeful again.

This was something I had been wanting to do for quite a while, and now I had a chance to get some relevant information on the feasibility of it.

Why not go back to school? I thought.

(Why not acquire more debt? simultaneously said a little voice in the back of my mind.)

One hour later, I was already meeting with the head of the Graduate Program in Economics at the University of Colorado Boulder.

How exciting! I thought…

But alas, when I walked into the office of the head of the Graduate Program in Economics, I got the sense that the Lady Economist didn’t exactly seem pleased to see me standing there. She slowly stopped what she was doing, lowered her chin skeptically, and looked over the rim of her glasses at me; frowning.

Wait, was she frowning? I don’t remember exactly. I can’t get passed wondering if she was frowning or not. She seemed a little pained. Constipated? Was she just super busy?

Was I interrupting her day? I wondered.

I was having a hard time getting a read on her and what the awkward vibe in the room was about.

Either way, I walked over to her desk, extended my hand, and gallantly introduced myself.

Without getting up, she shook my hand and asked how she could help me. She listened while I told her a bit about my background, shared about my interest in economic policy, and inquired about applying to the graduate program at Boulder.

Then, looking up at me—or wait, was she looking down? Or was she looking me up and down? Was she holding her breath? Was she sighing? Was she grinning now? Or still frowning?—

Either way, I remember her flatly stating that the Graduate Program in Economics at the University of Colorado Boulder is a highly competitive program, and that “you need to be good at math” to be admitted.

Or wait, was she saying that math skills are needed to graduate the program? Or did she mean math was required to solve global economic problems?

No wait—math is probably definitely not needed to solve global economic problems. I think this comes down to people’s free will decision to develop and consent to allowing global economic solutions.

She must have been talking about shopping. Yes, most definitely shopping— Shopping for which academic program to “invest” tens/hundreds of thousands of dollars into with zero assurance of any near or distant ROI. [This stands for Return On Investment—for those here who are not good at business math.] It’s basically the financial gain you will get on your investment after recovering the initial amount of the investment. In relation to real life ROI—that one might recover after entering into a substantial amount of debt to pay for enrollment and completion of college/graduate/doctorate programs… well, no one in recent history has been able to figure this one out. For instance, a few years after this meeting, the Biden Administration tried. President Biden put in place a tactical solution to aid the large quantity of losses on investment in academia (the opposite of ROI—again, for those here who are not good at math). But then the Supreme Court of the United States of America seemed to have a differing opinion about losses, gains, who should profit and who shouldn’t, etc, and changed tactics mid-Presidential gameplay. As of today, a federal injunction is still in place attesting to the confusion among politicians and U.S. economic leaders on how the math adds up.

[Source: https://studentaid.gov/idr/]

Yes, shopping. This had to be what she meant.

“I’m good at math,” I offered.

I also shared with her that I was surveying multiple graduate programs and was there to learn more about the Boulder program to see if it would met my needs.

Very subtly—or perhaps very visibly (it’s hard to gage something that felt so transparently disdainful)—she scoffed a little and repeated that the Graduate Program in Economics at the University of Colorado Boulder is highly competitive and receives thousands of applicants from around the world each year, any of whom are lucky to get in; admission is limited.

Or wait, maybe she didn’t use the word “lucky.” She was probably incredibly professional and made an entirely politically appropriate statement. I don’t remember the details.

I remember the feeling.

I didn’t feel like this program was going to meet my needs.

After politely asking for University pamphlets and application information, I thanked the Lady Economist, picked up my newly acquired, mint condition, vegan, faux suede, cream-colored, thrift store backpack, and left.

Outside the building, I was greeted by a friendlier face.

“I like your hat,” said the only male student of either Middle Eastern or South Asian descent I had seen on campus that day.

“Thanks. But it’s not a hat,” I said. “It’s a turban.”

“I know,” he said, beaming, then rode away on his bicycle.

Oh yeah—I forgot to mention, I was wearing a turban that I had acquired and incorporated into my wardrobe during my two-week stay at Yogi Bhajan’s yoga center in Española. His community was particularly known for wearing turbans. And wearing all white. The turbans were also often white, but not always. My turban happened to be pink.

I had also forgotten that it was 9/11.

Perhaps this was why the Lady Economist at the University of Colorado Boulder didn’t seem to take me seriously. Perhaps she didn’t care for the color pink.

What I won’t forget is the genuine smile of appreciation I received from the only guy of either Middle Eastern or South Asian descent that I saw on campus that day.

Perhaps this was the reason my husband and I broke up:

So that I could be there on that day to meet this student in my pink turban.

Perhaps this student had given up a lot on his end and gone through a lot of struggles just to be there on that day, at that time, to greet me with a friendly smile during an incredibly difficult time in my life.

I am grateful for him.

I really missed my kids.

And I was starting to get depressed again.

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