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A deliberate approach to life
DOWLING PROFESSOR BILL THIERFELDER, WHO HAS FELT THE 'TERRORISM OF PREJUDICE,' FINDS FULFILLMENT IN---
BY ELLEN YAN
ellen.yan@newsday.com
June 9, 2007
Copyright 2007 Newsday Inc.
Some mistake the sheets flapping in Bill Thierfelder's backyard for laundry.
Inside the curtains he has rigged up between the trees, the Dowling professor lies on his hammock, a human just "being," at one with himself after years of being torn in his search for meaning. He finds it now in the red, baby oak leaves, translucent in the sunlight. Or in thoughts of such things as the stillness of the moment his mother died, her hand in his.
In what he calls a "deliberate journey," Thierfelder looked for fulfillment in all the usual places, then found it in himself. After going in and out of the closet, repeatedly drinking to a high as a college student at St. John's University and questioning his career choice, the professor jotted out a 10-point code to live by. He paid his debts. He started several social justice projects.
His life has been full of moments worthy of the operas he loves to watch, and if there's one thing he says he's learned, it's how not to let life's villainous acts get him down.
"When life happens at you . . . you have within you the resources to live a successful life," said the professor, 56, who lives on Dowling's Oakdale campus and has taught there for 22 years, lecturing on literature and social issues. "I really feel I have arrived at something very comfortable but not complacent. Isn't it Socrates [who said], 'The unexamined life isn't worth living'?"
Forging a template
Like many his age, Thierfelder has struggled through middle-age scrutiny of happiness and legacy. It has taken 15 years to arrive at a sort of plan for life. He can see in his efforts a template for the small guy, trying to make a difference despite feeling powerless in the face of global messes.
A younger Thierfelder could not have made this journey.
"When you're 20 or 25, you don't have enough life experience under your belt to ascertain fairly quickly, 'Gee, this is not what I want to do anymore,' " Thierfelder said. "By the time you reach my age, in the 50s, you're at a point in your life where you go, 'This isn't working.' "
Along the way to creating a sort of road map to dreams coming true, the boy long ago beaten for being different has turned into a self-made citizen of the planet and a role model for youth on a less-trodden path.
"He's looked at the opportunities that have been presented to him in his immediate world and thought of those things close to him in a global way," said Robert Vitelli, director of development at the nonprofit Long Island Gay and Lesbian Youth in Bay Shore. "He's not going to change the world, but he has the ability to do something very real here.
"It's great for our youth. It shows you can be an older gay man and you can be active and you can be healthy. It sets a different image . . . because there are so few gay and lesbian images for them above the age of 40 - like gay people just don't get that old."
Thierfelder is now happy. After all, two major New York City institutions are waiting for a bus to hit him - his joke - because he willed his retirement cache to the American Museum of Natural History and his life insurance proceeds to The Metropolitan Opera. Plus, at least once a week, his stomach hurts; No. 3 of his "Deliberate Living" code is skipping a key meal in solidarity with the world's poor.
He's never done so much, from a Chelsea exhibit of artworks with his childhood wax medium, Crayola crayons, to fundraisers aimed at making schools safe for students like the one he once was.
At Dowling, the popular Dr. Bill, as students call him, puts kiddie stickers on good papers and hosts "salon" nights of literary and movie discussions at his home, in the style of 17th- century France.
Some students look for his courses when registering, appreciative of the real world lessons he digs out of novels, from technology gone awry to the art of making good decisions.
Studying with him, "I just feel more intelligent," said part-time student Stephanie Morgan, 28, a sales representative from Shoreham.
As early as third grade, Thierfelder knew he was "different." Growing up in Flushing, he hung out with girls, knitted and played school at home with stuffed animals on chairs, arranged as if in a real classroom.
In a defining moment as a youngster, he saw a featherless baby blue jay plummet from a nest near his grandmother's Babylon home. When she told him that blue jay mothers sometimes push out the runts, he anguished for years over one question:
"It sent a terrifying chill through me," Thierfelder wrote in a 2005 diary titled "Deliberate Living: A Memoir About Transformation." "Would my mother do that to me?"
Beating spurs decision
While he was a high school junior in Hollis, some seniors pummeled him over the hood of a car for being gay. Looking up at the school building, he could see the principal, who was an Episcopal priest, and the principal's secretary watching through the windows, doing nothing.
The gay teenager took a "profound walk" home alone.
"Obviously, people in this society are not going to be doing much for me," the student concluded during the walk, "so the only one who's going to be able to take care of me is me."
From then on, he opened his eyes to other "marginalized" peoples: Japanese-American citizens interned during World War II, Salem "witches," black slaves, the American Indians - his mother, Wilma, a teacher, was an honorary Hopi tribe member. The "terrorism of prejudice" later became fodder for his work life, from his science-fiction stories to courses on feminist authors.
But even as he was opening his eyes to the world, the adult Thierfelder was undergoing a bit of a meltdown. He led a double life, with friends who knew he was gay and those who didn't. In churches, ministers called people like him "abominations"; Thierfelder couldn't say anything.
Back pains, weight gains, drinking and other health problems - he blamed them on other pressures to pretty up his life for society and to be mature in making even toxic relationships work.
At age 40, flat on his bad back for three months and staring at the ceiling, Thierfelder deliberated on the age-old midlife search for happiness. Not the happiness of, say, buying a car - Thierfelder's Ford is smiley-face colored - but a deep and abiding satisfaction to underlie all he did.
'Unclogging' his emotions
Like others growing into middle age, he didn't want to waste any more time on the small stuff. He began listening more to his "inner voice," to see what "clogged" his "emotional pipes." Was teaching his ultimate calling? Was lecturing at libraries and going to operas and museums all there would be of life?
In bad moments, he'd imagine water cascading over rocks in a stream. He'd go around things he couldn't change.
"When I hit those speed bumps in life," Thierfelder now says, "I really paused and reflected. What can it teach me? How can I make this moment my friend?
"When I'm sitting still and shutting up long enough and listening to this stuff percolating ... that's that moment when you're thinking and you go, 'Oh.' Our culture has us so perpetually in motion that we're human doings rather than human beings."
Like others, Thierfelder was looking for fulfillment through love, too.
About 10 years ago, in a gay-friendly Manhattan church, he met tall, dark and handsome, or "The One." Still, something was missing.
"I wanted something to maybe make my life richer and fuller," Thierfelder said.
Two years later, they broke up. For a long time afterward, Thierfelder replayed their relationship in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong.
"I guess I became for a while maybe self-protective," he said. "It was like, 'Oops, don't want to get hurt like that again.' You know, Dionne Warwick in the background, 'What Do You Get When You Fall in Love,' and that alternated between 'One Is the Loneliest Number,' and we throw in a little 'Don't Cry Out Loud.'"
When the pain was gone, Thierfelder could see clearly. The map to happiness showed himself as the "X."
"It only (and that's a big only, of course) takes the courage to be still, think through your life, tap into your resources and get out there and live life - really live it, not just play-act or follow the leader," he wrote in his memoir.
Three years ago, during a contemplative bike ride, Thierfelder stopped at a West Sayville park to pen the beginnings of his Deliberate Living principles.
Beyond what many people would prescribe for themselves, such as exercise, Thierfelder listed, for example, "brain food": a daily limit of one news program and two e-mail checks and more reading. Another point: Take public transportation, bike or walk as much as possible, as a contribution to the environment.
The principles, he says, are "a way for me to strip away excess, a way for me to get closer to my authentic self. By leading a more modified, simple life, it allows me to take bigger knocks when the villain shows up in the opera."
"Unclogging" himself has let out more creative ideas than ever. Some people have busy work, said the artist-composer-writer-teacher and more, but he's busy with work connected to his "inner, glowing core."
In August 2005, he biked solo for a week from Nassau to Montauk and then to the Long Island Gay and Lesbian Youth center in Bay Shore, where he's a volunteer. His Journey for Safe Spaces raised $8,600 for the nonprofit to help make schools safer, including educating educators.
Last year, he started and funded a Dowling scholarship that awards up to $1,000 annually to a gay, bisexual or transgender freshman. He also created the annual Dowling Diversity Project, town hall meetings on prickly topics such as immigration. He's determined that when he's dead, his organs will go to the living and the rest of his body to science.
"He has recognized he has reached a point where he wants to give back" and others benefit, said Linda Ardito, friend and provost of Dowling College.
Thierfelder's home, full of his colorful and sometimes autobiographical artwork, has a fireplace where he and his friends pop popcorn and a projector where they watch films. It's not the elegant home of his college-era dreams. Nor is his car, a Ford Focus that sees more driveway than roadway time. Of his paycheck, Thierfelder says, "Who cares?"
Rich in family
Last month, when a spike in his blood pressure briefly sidelined Thierfelder's hope of repeating the bike fundraiser, two of his "brothers" took over [till he was ready to resume]. Former student Joe Interlandi rode, but Cliff Satriano was rained out.
An only child, Thierfelder saw the rescue of his bike fundraiser as an example of how rich he was in "family."
"I just don't have unhappy days," Thierfelder said. "It's kind of a wealth in spirit. There would be people that would kill for this. I'm doing what I want to do."
He knows where he's going in life, because he knows where he's been.
This certainty has given him the confidence to be his "authentic self."
In classes, he points to students who offer deep answers, and makes a "zzz" sizzling sound. He's hung "chimes of justice" by a home window to push him to do good. He's comfortable with left-field thoughts, such as likening Long Island, with its property fences, to "armed camps."
Never mind if someone thinks he's on some sort of trip with his Sherlock Holmes-size magnifying glass, on all fours in the yard, smelling bark up close.
There's a whole universe to be explored in the rest of his life.
Changes in the tones of green when the light moves.
Baby spiders in the moss.
The ant he spotted on an oak leaf.
"It'll take half an hour for it to get from here to there," said Thierfelder, on his knees, sweeping his hand 12 inches down a tree root. "It's like the Long Island Expressway." And he laughed hugely at his own joke.
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PROF'S CODE FOR IMPROVING HIMSELF AND THE WORLD
Maybe the going hungry part isn't for you, but if you're like many in mid-life, guidance could be useful in the search for meaning and happiness. Bill Thierfelder has organized his beliefs into a "Deliberate Living" code. They're 10 principles for him to live by each day, his effort as a "quark" in the universe to make the world and himself better.
Transportation - Take only public transport to and from Manhattan, even if a ride is offered. Take trains, buses, and shuttles as much as possible to other locations. Use a bicycle and walk more often, even in winter.
Finances - Use cash whenever possible to avoid overspending and debt. Use income responsibly. Be generous.
Solidarity - Skip at least one meal a week to connect with the world's poor. Give the money you would have spent on a movie night to a charity - and connect with others less fortunate.
Eating habits - For poultry, eat only free-range turkey or chicken, if possible. Eat wild fish (not "farmed"). Eat organic and natural whenever reasonable/possible. Aim to eat more potatoes, rice, beans, raw vegetables and fruit.
Rest habits - Get enough sleep. Take 15-minute "power naps," if possible.
Spiritual connections - Try to begin and end each day with 10 to 15 minutes of deep breathing, meditation, stretching - something quiet that lets you hear yourself and perhaps connect to that huge world all around.
Taking care of the temple - Try to devote at least 30 minutes each day to cardio/aerobic activities: brisk walks, bike rides, elliptical machines, steps/stairs.
Holistic medicine - Use chiropractic, massage, reiki and other "holistic" approaches to foster a healthy mind, body and spirit.
Brain food - Watch only one news program a day. Limit television. Read more. Check e-mail only once or twice a day. Use other technologies sparingly, to focus on what really matters.
Creativity - Create something at least once a day - a poem, a piece of prose, a drawing, a photograph, a meal, a class lecture.
Copyright 2007 Newsday Inc.
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EDITOR'S NOTE
A life fulfilled has its scars
Noel Rubinton
noel.rubinton@newsday.com
June 9, 2007
Copyright 2007 Newsday Inc.
Bill Thierfelder is an original.
I hope you'll agree with at least that much as you read Ellen Yan's cover story about him today. His life has been full of highs, and some lows, as he has struggled and grown.
Thierfelder even has his own rules for living. His pursuits stretch from literature to fine art to biking to gay rights to looking at bugs under a giant magnifying glass in his backyard. To some, he'll seem like a modern-day Renaissance man. To others, Thierfelder might seem eccentric or even dilettantish.
But to us in the Act Two generation, he should also seem squarely like one of us. He's been searching in the great middle section of his life to find fulfillment and meaning. Such journeys, as we know, are rarely simple, short or linear.
We are the products of our experiences and, by the time we are in middle age, we've had plenty of experiences. When Thierfelder talks about the pain of being beaten up as a teen for being gay, you can imagine how profoundly that incident shaped his life.
Now he seems at ease with his sexual preference, and his support work for gay and lesbian youth seems natural. But you can also imagine it wasn't so easy, and the bumps in his life he describes, such as drinking, show how hard it was to get through.
It's unlikely that any of us at this point in our lives has come through without scars. The types of scars may be different, but the common denominator is having gone through some trauma and setbacks.
So it's not really just a question of how we avoid problems. The real challenge often is to deal with life's slings and arrows as gracefully and as effectively as possible. Many times this is easier in theory than in practice.
I find it helpful to read and hear about people going through this process to give me ideas about my own life. What I find useful in Thierfelder's life and efforts has been his courage to keep being himself and not retreat into the lowest common denominator.
Also instructive has been his determination to deal with the pain in his past, not bury it. Because, as many of us have learned, things buried often don't stay underground.
Pain and frustration can pop up in a myriad of ways. But by knitting things together, with courage and compassion, we grow stronger. And able to have the rewarding sense of wonder and joy of the Bill Thierfelders of the world.
Copyright 2007 Newsday Inc.
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PROFILE BROADCAST AUGUST 6, 2007:
Urban Art From Around The World
'Monkdogz Urban Art' In Chelsea Exhibits Artists From Across The Globe
Copyright 2007 WCBS-TV NEW YORK
[Transcript of profile first telecast on Tuesday, August 7, 2007]
"Monkdogz Urban Art" on West 27th Street is unlike many other art galleries.
Located in Chelsea, they pride themselves in finding future stars by bringing in artists from across the globe, some who have never shown in the city. A special exhibit featuring these artists will be running through Saturday [August 11, 2007].
"New York is the art capital of the World," said Marina Hadley, gallery director for Monkdogz Urban Art. "And if you're going to make it, you have to make it in New York."
In order to make it into the current show, over one thousand artists submitted their work for consideration.
Local artist William Thierfelder is one of the 28 artists chosen.
"This is all colored pencils [melded] with crayons and [then] blended with things like the backs of erasers," said Thierfelder, describing one of his pieces on display.
His work is a commentary on the world AIDS pandemic, and focuses on a friend who, just a few months ago, was near death.
"I was trying to get the colors I know Dennis likes; he's a very colorful person with a [big] personality. But I was also try to show some of the chaotic feeling that you get, despite all the color, when you are trying to deal with all of these emotions," said Thierfelder.
Another artist featured in the exhibit, Allison Artis, brought together different elements of inspiration for her piece called DJ Congo. Music is Artis' passion and most of her work is connected to hip-hop and Africa. Her piece is acrylic-based and uses items she found on the street in Brooklyn.
"The work is just a lot of texture, and scraping, putting on, taking off," said Artis. "And just . . . making sound through color."
Japanese artist Yuichiro Shibata also uses acrylic paints. His painting is called Orange's Born. He chooses not to use words to explain his painting because he would rather the art speak for itself. "This is a product from my head and heart," said Shibata.
"What we try and do is show people the variety of artwork, the different mediums, the different styles," says Hadley. "The fact that art is the same from whatever country it comes from. Everyone is trying to communicate."
The artwork varies widely in price, from just a few hundred dollars, up to 50 thousand dollars. The current exhibit ends Saturday.
The next show at "Monkdogz" is going to be a big one, the season opening, which begins on Thursday, September 6th, 2007 and it's free! For more information, visit www.monkdogz.com.
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