Yesterday, as the college tour brought us to Philadelphia, I had the opportunity to visit some of the local “tourist sites.” These sites are completely different than, say Graumann’s Chinese Theatre or Disney World; these places recall real-life inspiring stories in our own not-to-distant history. We went to Independence Hall, which I had simply wandered into once a few years ago when in town on business, and which now requires a security screening process that makes a trip through the airport look like a cakewalk. Later, leaving Mary and the girls to their favorite pastime — shopping — I went to the Constitution Center, a Smithsonian-quality showcase of the founding document of our nation. I am a history buff so this was all just my sort of thing, yet there was something troubling in the glorious recounting the basic tenets of our social contract.

When the bright and articulate U.S. Park Ranger who gave the Independence Hall tour listed some of the groundbreaking elements of our new constitution and Bill of Rights — the right to a speedy trial, to face your accusers, to a lawyer, to not be held without trial, to avoid cruel and unusual punishment — I experienced both an incredible pride and genuine wonder at what the framers devised in the 18^th century, and a corresponding horror at what our current government has forgotten. Later, I complimented the young ranger/tour guide on an outstanding presentation, and asked her how she could describe to us all those “inalienable rights” knowing that our government now feels it can ignore them at its own whim — imprison both citizens and aliens without charges, for indefinite periods of time, with limited or no access to an attorney, torture them, and quite possibly even kill them. Her response surprised me. She said that she hoped, by reminding people of the essential truths of the founding documents, they might begin to question their government, which is the most essential right of all.

Here’s to the U.S. Park Service!

For the last week I have been traveling with my family to visit small liberal arts colleges in the Northeast. My oldest daughter is interested in “going East” for college, and I thought, slyly, “Well, let her experience it in February, and she’ll decide to stay in California, nearer to home.” No such luck — the weather was cold enough to feel different from home but entirely bearable. In fact, my plan backfired: she now feels certain she can handle winter in the East.

One of the goals of colleges visits is to gain an understanding of what students are interested in, what kind of internships they undertake during the summers, and what jobs they seek at graduation. We were happy to find that there was widespread interest in the nonprofit sector. We discovered numerous campus clubs with political and humanitarian interests, and a preponderance of internship opportunities in local, national and even international nonprofits. Bulletin boards invited students to nonprofit job fairs in nearby big cities, and our student tour guides, often graduating seniors, were uniformly socially minded. They reported, for example, plans to work in an environmental nonprofit in Berkeley, a two-year commitment to Teach for America, and a move to New York City to work on peace issues.

It was a good trip. My oldest daughter found the college of her dreams (if she can get in), her younger sister got a preview of what will be available when her turn comes, and Mary and I were filled with a desire to do it all over again – this time not at the wonderful but humongous Cal Berkeley, where we met, but at one of these small college communities of activists and learners. I also came away impressed by the quality of real, thoughtful social commitment on these campuses, and with renewed hope that my daughters’ generation will do more than fill our shoes as the current generation of nonprofit leaders retires from the sector; they will go further than we have, and actually solve some of the ongoing social, environmental and political problems of our troubled world.