Published in the opinion page of the Holland Sentinel, the newspaper of Holland, Michigan.
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Holland — Life’s not fair, but watching Holland High’s commencement Monday, I thought for a moment that life had made an exception.

Lines of graduates of varying accomplishment strode in wearing identical red or white gowns. All wore the same square hats, so all looked equally silly. And on those hats ...

There life had me. Some graduates displayed multiple tassels; most had one. Some draped cords around their necks; most had none. A handful of names arose repeatedly, but most only heard their names while receiving their diploma covers.

And so it struck me that if my own two recent graduations were at all representative, the graduates who’d grown most were being recognized least.

To Whom it May Concern:

I am a compulsively judgmental person. I observe, I compare, I prod, and with minimal hesitation, I condemn. In my court, the “burden of proof” lies with affirmation.

Nonetheless, after evaluating Dr. Karen Spencer for over two years, I am forced to conclude that she is, in the words of one former Michigan Teacher of the Year, a “master educator.”

Remarks as student-body president at the 2012 commencement of Holland High School, in Holland, Michigan.

Dearest members of the ever-so esteemed Class of 2012:

The confession I am about to make will no doubt shock you. I have kept this to myself for years, in fact, but the trust we’ve developed in these past few weeks assures me that my secret will be safe with you. Here it goes: I am not really a sports person. I don’t play sports. I don’t watch sports. I don’t even know how many quarterbacks are on our soccer team.

Published in the opinion page, as a member of the Community Advisory Board of the Holland Sentinel, the newspaper of Holland Sentinel.
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I am an intelligent person. And I like to eat. My counselors, teachers, friends and neighbors therefore told me I should go to college. I decided I would.

Colleges seemed to like that. Every day for three years I received fliers and letters and viewbooks and packages, some personalized with my very own name, all packed with the greatest of compliments — for themselves and for me. My favorite read simply: “Dominic, It’s entirely possible that you are the brightest student ever. The Ohio State University just might be the finest institution of higher education on the planet. Seems we should learn more about each other.” Who knew I was so popular?

Books: If not merely nibbled with Sparknotes, their reading swallows hours and demands intense, protracted digestion. Yet paper is hardly known for its sustenance, and computer screens even less so. Why, then, have the greatest of our species—Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Hofman—expended the best years of their lives curing experience into text? And why have the least of our species—Surya and peers—labored, albeit lamely, to make something of these texts? Henry James once observed that “It takes a great deal of history to produce a little literature” (Peed). In examining two works whose perspective and approach seem in opposition, one of many explanations will arise: Literature’s narration embodies and therefore awakens us to the perspective of its authors, their contemporaries, our contemporaries, and hopefully, us.

Written for the opinion page of the Holland Sentinel, the newspaper of Holland, Michigan.

Perhaps I should just keep my mouth shut. I intend to question Republican senatorial candidate Pete Hoekstra’s approach to media, debate, and us, but in so doing, I may end up furthering his scheme to arouse, distract and sideline.

His Super Bowl ad has, after all, proven incredible. With just thirty seconds of football fanfare, Hoekstra has won over a million online views; the recognition of activists, community leaders, and politicians; coverage in national media; coverage in this newspaper; and commentary that I continue here.

To be sure, much of this commentary charges Hoekstra with pushing xenophobia. But has he really minded?

Published in the opinion page, as a member of the Community Advisory Board of the Holland Sentinel, the newspaper of Holland Sentinel.

Holland — Last year’s partisanship and politicking radiated Washington to an overheated crisp, but for some reason, Congress didn’t turn out so hot.

During 2011, Gallup reported that our nation’s collective approval of Congress hit three record lows and fell at a pace that, if continued, will see support disappear entirely in 2013  —  an appropriate denouement to the Mayans’ impending apocalypse. Further, by 2011’s close, Gallup found that a scant fifth of us affirmed most of Congress’s re-election and that a pitiful 1/14th of us affirmed congressional ethics.

A shame, yes. But what’s new?

Written for the annual Christmas form-letter mailing of the Surya-Johnson family.

Dear cherished mailing-list member,

As the annual frenzy of decorations, gifts, and photos with Santa reaches its climax, it has dawned upon our beleaguered family that now might be the appropriate time to write to you about how our year has gone (out the window).

Paul, aging as fast as ever, still has his job as a chemist. On behalf of his employer, Perrigo, he would like to thank all of you who have caught a cold this year, as his company profits handsomely from your healthy intake of cough medicine and off-brand Tylenol.

He began work on this essay controlled by the formula: the structure he’d concocted to guide his writing, bound, he was sure, to guarantee success. First, he thought, he’d pen a brisk and clever opening (to exhibit his dry humor); then dialogue, sensory embellishment, and intense recreation of a moment (to draw in his reader); then a retrospective exploration of the situation, his role in it, and the meaning of his actions (to demonstrate the depth of his perception); and finally, a powerful, all-encompassing close. Clean, self-contained, and utterly devoid of anything that could possibly blemish his idealization of himself. If obeyed completely, his formula would leave his admission officer awed and ready to stamp his application on the spot: admitted!

It would seem a contradictory pairing: intent and inaction, plans that grow strong in the mind but weak in the hands. Yet just this fate befalls Prince Hamlet, protagonist in William Shakespeare’s play The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. The son of murdered King Hamlet, Prince Hamlet determines to kill Claudius, the man who took Hamlet’s father’s life, wife and throne. After misguidedly slaying a man he does not seek; declining an opportunity to kill Claudius, the man he does seek; and meeting Fortinbras, action-bent foil to indecisive Hamlet, Hamlet bemoans his inaction in a soliloquy (4.4.32-66). Through passionate, self-berating, and ultimately determined tones, Shakespeare presages the play’s bloody close, and on a higher level, asserts an ironic connection between goal and accomplishment.