There's a fascinating story in today's Wall Street Journal (try the link but a subscription is required to see most stories) on green houses. No, not the kind where you grow exotic orchids, but rather small group homes for the elderly that proponents will someday replace nursing homes. Each home houses 10 - 12 residents in what looks and feels like a traditional home yet provides advanced medical care.
The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation is putting some serious cash behind a plan developed by Dr. Bill Thomas to try to reach critical mass -- green houses operating in all 50 states -- in hopes that the movement will gain enough traction to be self-sustaining. He's just one proponent of this alternative to traditional nursing homes.
I think that this all sounds wonderful. One of my grandmothers spent her final three years in a nursing home and I can't recall ever being to a more depressing place. I hope to secure the right pill so that I can end things before I get to that state but might reconsider that chilling option if something like green houses are available.
One challenge is keeping this within the reach of average people. Current "assisted living" options are pretty darn expensive. I would hope that the group setting would encourage mutual care that might lower some costs. One study mentioned in the WSJ showed that the costs in a green house can be lower than in a traditional nursing home despite the scale advantages of the larger institution.
The capital costs of building the facilities is one thing that makes the green houses difficult financially. I wonder, however, if existing urban building stock could be adapted and repurposed for use as green houses. The density of urban areas lessens the need for cars, offers greater opportunities for social interaction, and may offer amenities such as movie theaters, drug stores, etc. I can even imagine several green house "condos" in relatively close proximity that could benefit from some centralized back office efficiencies.
The population is aging and we need to rethink how the elderly live their final years. There are enormous opporunities that can come from rethinking current approaches and being bold enough to try new ideas. It is heartening to hear about efforts such as this one. Please, build a green house in my backyard.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
An End to Airline Hell?
It’s not news that flying is becoming less fun by the day. Actually, it’s not news that flying was never as easy and convenient as the airlines wanted us to believe, but it sure beats the bus. Now, like millions of other regular business travelers, I have grown accustomed to arriving extra early so that I can spend thirty-seven minutes in line to be wanded, prodded, stroked, and searched by security guards (slip them a couple of bucks and, if you’re lucky, I hear they’ll use hot oil).
I know that there are solid reasons for enhanced security. What the early arrivals have given me, however, is the extra time to wonder why the rest of the process is so difficult. After all, you can’t swing a laptop in an airport without hitting a consultant. Can’t anyone reengineer this process?
For example, think about trying to get something to eat at the airport. You may think it’s easy given the plethora of stalls, stands, and snack shacks that line the endless walkways between the check-in counter and the departure gate, but I don’t say it’s hard to find something to eat, it’s just hard to get it. And, now that the airlines have stopped feeding us the food we complained about so much, airport eating has become a necessity.
Of course there is no food service directory, so you never know what you’ll find for food on your journey through the Tolkein-like maze of the terminal. My doctor has suggested that I limit myself to no more than two complete meals a day from Starbuck’s so I cruise for something at least minimally nutritious to carry onto the flight. After too many runway-side dining experiences I have learned that nutrition is not something that comes naturally to food served in airports so it takes some work.
I’ve also learned Murphy’s Law of Airport Cuisine. For departing flights, the food gets worse as you get closer to the gate. For arriving flights, the opposite is true. I think of myself as an average business traveler. I lug a briefcase that holds eight pounds of laptop and accessories, three and a half pounds of files and other work-related reading, the day’s newspaper, eyeglasses, sunglasses, a paper-clipped bundle of receipts from the last business trip, my keys and $7.83 in loose change that I’ve accumulated because I throw it my bag rather than play the “what else that’s metal do you have in your pocket” game with the security guard at the metal detector. All told, it’s a load that guarantees my chiropractor an income for life. I pull along a wheeled suitcase that holds everything else.
Maneuvering into a self-serve line at Junk Food Hut with an overstuffed briefcase and a suitcase is like driving with a U-Haul trailer on your car at rush hour. I don’t dare leave my things by a chair that I hope to occupy because a sweet, manufactured voice broadcast from loudspeakers every few minutes reminds me that unattended items are considered a safety threat and will be confiscated by the authorities for immediate destruction. I always thought that you shouldn’t leave luggage sitting unattended because someone might steal it, but I guess that thinking is just too 20th century. Now that anyone could be an international terrorist I have to worry about the police making off with my socks and undies.
Either way, my baggage and I must remain a unit as I pick up an orange plastic tray and attempt to fetch my meal. I grab an individual mini-pizza from a shiny metal warming stand while balancing the briefcase, the suitcase, and the tray. I stand in back of six other people and pity the women around me who manage to do all of this in heels. Finally, at the end of the line, I find someone ready to help me. “You wanna drink?” he asks in a voice bursting with indifference. “Large decaf. Milk, no sugar,” I reply, sagging under the weight of my load. The rushing throng of travelers buzzes like swarming locusts on a summer afternoon, but the hollow sound of an empty Styrofoam cup hitting the tray resonates above the din. “Coffee’s behind you.” He turns slightly to the person behind me. “You wanna drink?”
I fumble with my wallet to pay a ransom to his cohort at the register and slalom my way across the seating area to another counter marked “Beverages” in warm, cheery, modern letters. There, balancing the briefcase, the suitcase, the tray with pizza and the tottering empty cup, I must pour coffee, add milk, stir, and cover. Can’t forget napkins. And have to keep the receipt from blowing off the tray. Finally, I set down like a helicopter for a brief moment to rebalance my cargo. With a prayer to my dry cleaner, I jam the receipt into my pocket, stuff the napkins into my briefcase, and double-check the lid on the coffee.
OK, fifteen minutes to boarding. I’m by Gate A3 and, let’s see, my flight departs from Gate A147. We’re off. Feeling like a cruise ship waiter in a gale, I maneuver toward my far-off awaiting aircraft, bobbing and weaving with my precious payload. The briefcase fits atop the suitcase that I pull with my right hand. I have the pizza balanced on top of the coffee cup in my left. How, I wonder, will I ever pull out my boarding pass?
However, once on the moving sidewalk, I can ignore the colorful ads from consulting firms and think of the many simple things that could make this whole process – from check-in to in-flight meal – easier, more pleasant, and even more profitable. Here are six.
First, let’s talk about check in. At 6’3” with a 34” inseam, I am an exit row fanatic. That extra legroom is far closer to necessity than luxury, yet my chances of getting it are purely a matter of chance because the seats aren’t preassigned (the airline has to make sure that you are able bodied and thus assigns them at check in). Some charge extra exit row fees -- an upgrade where you are required to help in case of disaster that you have to pay for. Why not offer exit row certification? I would fork over $99.95 to take a three- or four-hour course so that I would actually know what opening an exit door is all about so long as it would qualify me to request a exit row seat when I book my ticket. The certification would come with a solemn pledge that I not show up on crutches and expect to sit there. The airline would get better-trained emergency assistance and tall people like me would get a more comfortable ride.
Second, hasn’t anyone at an airline ever been to a trade show? When I check in, why not give me everything in a little plastic pouch on a lanyard that can go around my neck? Even the picture ID, once checked, could slide into the front. The information on my checked luggage could be bar coded onto my receipt. The gate agent could then retrieve the plastic pouch at boarding and simply hand me back my boarding receipt and ID. No fumbling in pockets or searching madly in handbags for anyone, not to mention the environmental benefits of eliminating all of those paper folders.
Third, let’s move to security. How about large plastic bottles into which I can dump their change as I approach the metal detector? The proceeds could go to support the victims of terrorism worldwide. If most people are like me, they’d be happy to toss in their 79 cents and the sum could easily result in millions of dollars for people in need. This is in place at Heathrow but I haven't seen it elsewhere. And could we please all acknowledge that the chances of someone hijacking an airplane with a nail file or corkscrew are all but nil? A cup of hot coffee is a greater threat (especially the coffee they serve onboard).
OK, now on to my beloved food. Question to the airlines: why not just let me preorder some food? I know that you aren’t making any money. You know I have to eat. So, why not offer a simple meal for a $10 surcharge -- but let me guarantee that there will be what I want waiting? They've figured out the selling part but you haven't lived until you get on a long flight and find out that they run out of everything two rows in front of you. They could serve it onboard like the old days or just hand me a box meal at the gate. If there’s an “M” on my boarding pass, I paid for a meal and I get one. Everybody’s happy.
If that’s too complicated, let’s move onto Plan B. We live in take-out nation. If the airlines won’t deliver the food, why can’t someone else? Take-out kiosks could let me place an order for food that could be delivered to me at the gate. I just punch in my name and flight to ensure that there’s enough time to deliver and I can sit back and wait, with my luggage safely beside me, for my junk food of choice.
Finally, a plea to the policy makers of corporate America: shouldn’t the right to fly business or first class be determined by total miles flown for the company rather than rank in the organization? The people who regularly show up at five in the morning for a seven o’clock flight away from their families – whether salespeople, mid-level managers, or top executives -- are most deserving of the shorter lines, greater leg room, and better food that comes with upgraded seating. And, best of all, the Senior Vice President who only flies two or three times a year needs to experience first-hand what the rest of us go through all of the time.
I know that there are solid reasons for enhanced security. What the early arrivals have given me, however, is the extra time to wonder why the rest of the process is so difficult. After all, you can’t swing a laptop in an airport without hitting a consultant. Can’t anyone reengineer this process?
For example, think about trying to get something to eat at the airport. You may think it’s easy given the plethora of stalls, stands, and snack shacks that line the endless walkways between the check-in counter and the departure gate, but I don’t say it’s hard to find something to eat, it’s just hard to get it. And, now that the airlines have stopped feeding us the food we complained about so much, airport eating has become a necessity.
Of course there is no food service directory, so you never know what you’ll find for food on your journey through the Tolkein-like maze of the terminal. My doctor has suggested that I limit myself to no more than two complete meals a day from Starbuck’s so I cruise for something at least minimally nutritious to carry onto the flight. After too many runway-side dining experiences I have learned that nutrition is not something that comes naturally to food served in airports so it takes some work.
I’ve also learned Murphy’s Law of Airport Cuisine. For departing flights, the food gets worse as you get closer to the gate. For arriving flights, the opposite is true. I think of myself as an average business traveler. I lug a briefcase that holds eight pounds of laptop and accessories, three and a half pounds of files and other work-related reading, the day’s newspaper, eyeglasses, sunglasses, a paper-clipped bundle of receipts from the last business trip, my keys and $7.83 in loose change that I’ve accumulated because I throw it my bag rather than play the “what else that’s metal do you have in your pocket” game with the security guard at the metal detector. All told, it’s a load that guarantees my chiropractor an income for life. I pull along a wheeled suitcase that holds everything else.
Maneuvering into a self-serve line at Junk Food Hut with an overstuffed briefcase and a suitcase is like driving with a U-Haul trailer on your car at rush hour. I don’t dare leave my things by a chair that I hope to occupy because a sweet, manufactured voice broadcast from loudspeakers every few minutes reminds me that unattended items are considered a safety threat and will be confiscated by the authorities for immediate destruction. I always thought that you shouldn’t leave luggage sitting unattended because someone might steal it, but I guess that thinking is just too 20th century. Now that anyone could be an international terrorist I have to worry about the police making off with my socks and undies.
Either way, my baggage and I must remain a unit as I pick up an orange plastic tray and attempt to fetch my meal. I grab an individual mini-pizza from a shiny metal warming stand while balancing the briefcase, the suitcase, and the tray. I stand in back of six other people and pity the women around me who manage to do all of this in heels. Finally, at the end of the line, I find someone ready to help me. “You wanna drink?” he asks in a voice bursting with indifference. “Large decaf. Milk, no sugar,” I reply, sagging under the weight of my load. The rushing throng of travelers buzzes like swarming locusts on a summer afternoon, but the hollow sound of an empty Styrofoam cup hitting the tray resonates above the din. “Coffee’s behind you.” He turns slightly to the person behind me. “You wanna drink?”
I fumble with my wallet to pay a ransom to his cohort at the register and slalom my way across the seating area to another counter marked “Beverages” in warm, cheery, modern letters. There, balancing the briefcase, the suitcase, the tray with pizza and the tottering empty cup, I must pour coffee, add milk, stir, and cover. Can’t forget napkins. And have to keep the receipt from blowing off the tray. Finally, I set down like a helicopter for a brief moment to rebalance my cargo. With a prayer to my dry cleaner, I jam the receipt into my pocket, stuff the napkins into my briefcase, and double-check the lid on the coffee.
OK, fifteen minutes to boarding. I’m by Gate A3 and, let’s see, my flight departs from Gate A147. We’re off. Feeling like a cruise ship waiter in a gale, I maneuver toward my far-off awaiting aircraft, bobbing and weaving with my precious payload. The briefcase fits atop the suitcase that I pull with my right hand. I have the pizza balanced on top of the coffee cup in my left. How, I wonder, will I ever pull out my boarding pass?
However, once on the moving sidewalk, I can ignore the colorful ads from consulting firms and think of the many simple things that could make this whole process – from check-in to in-flight meal – easier, more pleasant, and even more profitable. Here are six.
First, let’s talk about check in. At 6’3” with a 34” inseam, I am an exit row fanatic. That extra legroom is far closer to necessity than luxury, yet my chances of getting it are purely a matter of chance because the seats aren’t preassigned (the airline has to make sure that you are able bodied and thus assigns them at check in). Some charge extra exit row fees -- an upgrade where you are required to help in case of disaster that you have to pay for. Why not offer exit row certification? I would fork over $99.95 to take a three- or four-hour course so that I would actually know what opening an exit door is all about so long as it would qualify me to request a exit row seat when I book my ticket. The certification would come with a solemn pledge that I not show up on crutches and expect to sit there. The airline would get better-trained emergency assistance and tall people like me would get a more comfortable ride.
Second, hasn’t anyone at an airline ever been to a trade show? When I check in, why not give me everything in a little plastic pouch on a lanyard that can go around my neck? Even the picture ID, once checked, could slide into the front. The information on my checked luggage could be bar coded onto my receipt. The gate agent could then retrieve the plastic pouch at boarding and simply hand me back my boarding receipt and ID. No fumbling in pockets or searching madly in handbags for anyone, not to mention the environmental benefits of eliminating all of those paper folders.
Third, let’s move to security. How about large plastic bottles into which I can dump their change as I approach the metal detector? The proceeds could go to support the victims of terrorism worldwide. If most people are like me, they’d be happy to toss in their 79 cents and the sum could easily result in millions of dollars for people in need. This is in place at Heathrow but I haven't seen it elsewhere. And could we please all acknowledge that the chances of someone hijacking an airplane with a nail file or corkscrew are all but nil? A cup of hot coffee is a greater threat (especially the coffee they serve onboard).
OK, now on to my beloved food. Question to the airlines: why not just let me preorder some food? I know that you aren’t making any money. You know I have to eat. So, why not offer a simple meal for a $10 surcharge -- but let me guarantee that there will be what I want waiting? They've figured out the selling part but you haven't lived until you get on a long flight and find out that they run out of everything two rows in front of you. They could serve it onboard like the old days or just hand me a box meal at the gate. If there’s an “M” on my boarding pass, I paid for a meal and I get one. Everybody’s happy.
If that’s too complicated, let’s move onto Plan B. We live in take-out nation. If the airlines won’t deliver the food, why can’t someone else? Take-out kiosks could let me place an order for food that could be delivered to me at the gate. I just punch in my name and flight to ensure that there’s enough time to deliver and I can sit back and wait, with my luggage safely beside me, for my junk food of choice.
Finally, a plea to the policy makers of corporate America: shouldn’t the right to fly business or first class be determined by total miles flown for the company rather than rank in the organization? The people who regularly show up at five in the morning for a seven o’clock flight away from their families – whether salespeople, mid-level managers, or top executives -- are most deserving of the shorter lines, greater leg room, and better food that comes with upgraded seating. And, best of all, the Senior Vice President who only flies two or three times a year needs to experience first-hand what the rest of us go through all of the time.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Remembering Russert
I, like most people, was shocked to hear that Tim Russert died last Friday. He was young and, more important, a ubiquitous authority during this momentous presidential campaign. Tim Russert was someone you could count on to help you make sense out of whatever was unfolding.
There has been enough said about his many great qualities as journalist, mentor, colleague, friend, and political insider. All of it is richly deserved, I’m sure. I never met Russert though we did once share a stairway at Rockefeller Center. He was yammering on his cell phone. I was trying hard to pretend that I wasn’t impressed that I was standing next to him as I ascended.
What I will mourn is the loss of another knowledgeable, authoritative voice in our civic discourse. Russert was consistently lauded for fairness, toughness, and a drive to make complex issues “make sense to the folks in Buffalo.” He didn’t make his mark through partisan tirades or gotcha questioning. His strategy was consistent and straight forward: ask pertinent, direct questions and push until he got answers. To be able to do that, he prepared rigorously for each show.
There aren’t many Russerts in the wings. Nightline has lost it punch without Ted Koppel; Meet the Press will have to work hard not to suffer the same fate. When CBS tried to revamp their evening news, they turned to Katie Couric and look what a laugher that has turned out to be. To be fair, CBS tried to make her more of an entertainer than a hard-nosed journalist so let’s not blame it all on Katie. But you see where the great minds of television news production want to take us.
Russert always seemed committed to raising the level of discussion about critical issues, not using them as a stepstool for his own self-aggrandizement. A Chris Matthews or Keith Olberman can’t simply step in and do the same thing. Wolf Blitzer or Lou Dobbs couldn’t carry Russert’s luggage.
We’ll miss Tim Russert in more ways that we know. It will be especially evident as we head into the general election. This also provides an opportunities for others to step up and show us what they’ve got. There’s no one who can measure up to Russert today but let’s hope that someone can grow to fill those shoes in the months ahead.
There has been enough said about his many great qualities as journalist, mentor, colleague, friend, and political insider. All of it is richly deserved, I’m sure. I never met Russert though we did once share a stairway at Rockefeller Center. He was yammering on his cell phone. I was trying hard to pretend that I wasn’t impressed that I was standing next to him as I ascended.
What I will mourn is the loss of another knowledgeable, authoritative voice in our civic discourse. Russert was consistently lauded for fairness, toughness, and a drive to make complex issues “make sense to the folks in Buffalo.” He didn’t make his mark through partisan tirades or gotcha questioning. His strategy was consistent and straight forward: ask pertinent, direct questions and push until he got answers. To be able to do that, he prepared rigorously for each show.
There aren’t many Russerts in the wings. Nightline has lost it punch without Ted Koppel; Meet the Press will have to work hard not to suffer the same fate. When CBS tried to revamp their evening news, they turned to Katie Couric and look what a laugher that has turned out to be. To be fair, CBS tried to make her more of an entertainer than a hard-nosed journalist so let’s not blame it all on Katie. But you see where the great minds of television news production want to take us.
Russert always seemed committed to raising the level of discussion about critical issues, not using them as a stepstool for his own self-aggrandizement. A Chris Matthews or Keith Olberman can’t simply step in and do the same thing. Wolf Blitzer or Lou Dobbs couldn’t carry Russert’s luggage.
We’ll miss Tim Russert in more ways that we know. It will be especially evident as we head into the general election. This also provides an opportunities for others to step up and show us what they’ve got. There’s no one who can measure up to Russert today but let’s hope that someone can grow to fill those shoes in the months ahead.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Rethinking the American Diet
Blogging live from lunch at South Water Kitchen in Chicago.The photo on the front page of today's New York Times is astounding: hundreds of thousands of people in South Korea protesting U.S. beef imports. I guess that U.S. beef is not what's for dinner in Seoul and fear of mad cow disease (and a desire to protect the local beef producers) is why. The wide shot of the crowd doesn't pop up on the Times' Web site but this AP shot from Yahoo will give you the meaty flavor of the gathering.
I've been thinking a lot about beef ever since I read a piece in the Times a few months back about its environmental impact. Everyone eliminating 20% of one's beef intake, as I recall, was the equivalent of switching from a Camry to a Prius (if the Times' search engine wasn't so feeble I'd link you to the article). I've been trying to do that both for the health and environmental benefits (Hint: making breakfast meatless is an easy start; one or two dinners a week isn't that hard either. Harder but effective is to restrict oneself to small farm, grass fed beef -- it's just that much harder to find, especially in restaurants).
I tried being a pescitarian for a few weeks last year but, well, it only lasted a few weeks. I'm an omnivore and there isn't anything I can do about that. No apologies from me for eating things with faces. I could never do the no carb thing; the smell alone of fresh baked bread makes me weak in the knees. Vegetarianism? That is great until the ecoli shows up in the spinach or salmonella gets tomatoes whisked from the shelves faster than Obama signs at a McCain rally.
Mark Bittman's excellent piece in today's Dining In section (hey, I was on an airplane and the Times was all I had to read today) gives great ideas for putting meat in its place. The one that struck me most was conceptual: think of meat as a treasure, a jewel, rather than as the center of the meal. This is how meat is thought of in much of the world and this subtle mental shift makes portion control a lot more palatable. Think, for example, of answering the "what's for dinner" question with "A great caprese salad with fresh mozzerella a little sliced tenderloin" instead of "steak and salad." The ingredients don't have to change in order to alter expectations.
Here at the South Water Kitchen, the burger is advertised as a half-pounder. Who needs a half pound of beef for lunch? I remember when the Quarter Pounder was introduced and it was played up as an enormous amount of meat. Increasingly, restaurant burgers are 8, 10, or more ounces of beef. The USDA reports that per capita meat consumption is up 57 lbs per year (2000 vs. 1950).
Americans have steadily increased their caloric consumption between 1970 and 2000 (22% for women; 7% for men as of 2000 according to the National Center for Health Statistics; USDA suggests that it has grown by 24% overall). Soft drink consumption is up five-fold over the past 50 years. And we wonder why so many of those around us are obese.
With more people working more hours, dependence on convenient foods (ready to eat, take out, restaurants, etc.) will continue to grow. This means a greater dependence on a corporate food supply -- you don't get a lot of heat-and-serve options at your local farmers' market. While there are healthy options, too much of what we grab to go is laden with salt, high fructose corn syrup, factory farm bred meat and poultry, and other ingredients that are far from the best you can put in your body.
It's time to rethink the American diet. We need to make the personal and policy efforts necessary to increase local food production, small and medium-sized farms, and fresh, unprocessed foods. We need to acknowledge that most of us should be eating less and virtually all of us should be eating differently.
Then again, we may not have a choiceTom Pawlick is eloquent on the larger issues that may cause the current food system to collapse in The End of Food.
Now I'm off to produce an event at (sigh) Morton's Steak House. See how hard it is to eat small?
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Evolution, Creation, Solution?
Overshadowed by yesterday's flurry of stories about Obama crossing the delegate threshhold to claim the Democratic nomination was a piece about the Texas School Board in the New York Times. Supporters of intelligent design/creationism are once again taking a run at how evolution is taught in schools.
I spent a couple of years attending an evangelical church in my teen years. I was active in youth groups and new people from several other like-minded congregations. I learned that true believers hold tight to the idea that there is one way, that all other options are the work of Satan, and that one's calling in life as a Christian is to spread the Word. In short, as moderate as opponents of teaching evolution try to sound, they are serious and they aren't going away.
Rather than delve into the argument over whether alternatives to evolutionary theory should be taught in science classes, I'd like to propose an alternative: teach religion in schools.
Note that I said "teach," not "preach." Understanding religion is critical to understanding both current affairs and history and I believe that there should be a required high school course that educates students about the major religions (without dogma). Everyone should know the the basic beliefs and history of Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus. It should be an active class with many guest lecturers, field trips, and research projects.
This class would be the place to present the Christian view of creation (along with lots of other concepts from the various religions). It would provide a respectful evironment for the airing and exploration of all sorts of faith-based ideas. And it would let us reserve science class for scientific theories rather than putting students in the middle of the age-old battle between science and religion (although what a great history class that topic would make!).
"Opponents of teaching evolution, in a natural selection of sorts, have
gradually shed those strategies that have not survived the courts. Over the last
decade, creationism has given rise to “creation science,” which became
“intelligent design,” which in 2005 was banned from the public school curriculum
in Pennsylvania by a federal judge.
Now a battle looms in Texas
over science textbooks that teach evolution, and the wrestle for control seizes
on three words. None of them are “creationism” or “intelligent design” or even
“creator.”
The words are 'strengths and weaknesses," the Times reported.
I spent a couple of years attending an evangelical church in my teen years. I was active in youth groups and new people from several other like-minded congregations. I learned that true believers hold tight to the idea that there is one way, that all other options are the work of Satan, and that one's calling in life as a Christian is to spread the Word. In short, as moderate as opponents of teaching evolution try to sound, they are serious and they aren't going away.
Rather than delve into the argument over whether alternatives to evolutionary theory should be taught in science classes, I'd like to propose an alternative: teach religion in schools.
Note that I said "teach," not "preach." Understanding religion is critical to understanding both current affairs and history and I believe that there should be a required high school course that educates students about the major religions (without dogma). Everyone should know the the basic beliefs and history of Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus. It should be an active class with many guest lecturers, field trips, and research projects.
This class would be the place to present the Christian view of creation (along with lots of other concepts from the various religions). It would provide a respectful evironment for the airing and exploration of all sorts of faith-based ideas. And it would let us reserve science class for scientific theories rather than putting students in the middle of the age-old battle between science and religion (although what a great history class that topic would make!).
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