DetroitGirl

Hot Town Summer in the City

2011-07-09T11:07:00.000-04:00

Summer races by and I long for playing in the sprinkler, snow cones and trips to Edgewater Park. My Indianapolis childhood was idyllic.

Hello Spring 2010

2010-05-06T14:46:00.001-04:00

I can't believe how early spring has come this year.

The Bart

2009-03-24T17:45:00.006-04:00

I've spent over a year working on this painting--it's a large, colorful abstract inspired by a photograph I took at a quilt show when I visited in Santa Monica a few years ago. I worked the surface layering paint and glazes over the colors enjoying the process and the outcome. Once it was declared finished, I hung it on the kitchen wall. My son immediately declared that the image looked like Bart Simpson in sunglasses. I never saw it--but now I can't look at the painting without seeing Bart. Geez!

Summer of Love

2009-03-21T18:18:00.011-04:00

Last night, one of the best rock and roll guitarists ever(according to Rolling Stone) came to for dinner. We've known him since he was 16 and the lead guitar player in my husband's high school band. He's been temporarily put out of his apartment because of water damage, so he's "on the road" as he puts it. We weren't going to have him over last night, but through an email miscommunication, he showed up. We thawed another steak and mashed another potato and had dinner. I never saw anyone eat so much and after a few glasses of wine, he began a familiar monologue on the summer of love--1967 when his band had a contract with Capitol records and life was one big love-in. I love hearing the stories, but I wish he lived more in the now.

When it got late, it became clear that he had no place to go...so we extended our guest room for ONE NIGHT ONLY... letting him know that we had just had family visit and expected more today. We've been to this party before---several years ago his van broke down in Detroit and he stayed over for several days--burning incense and meditating in our family room. He broke the lock on our door that time. It was an accident, of course, but an expensive one.

This time, he had a travel bag packed with his special honey, green tea bags, a change of clothes, his signature straw hat, and some brandy--everything a guy on the road needs. This morning, he eschewed the eggs for breakfast in favor of tea and toast; he took a bath and changed into clean clothes. Before he left, he autographed a CD for us, thanked us profusely and hit the road. His car sounds like a jet taking off--it's needed a new muffler for almost six months. He's got guitars worth thousands of dollars and %30 bottles of wine in the trunk--but no muffler.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I was in the middle of a Broadway musical. Imagine crossing Our Town with Hair and add in a little Neil Simon dialogue. The opening scene is the old Grandee Ballroom and the band is playing loudly--the overhead projector spills wavy colored light on the walls. The air is heavy and sweet.

Spring in the A2

2009-03-20T17:57:00.003-04:00

It's been uncommonly sunny in Ann Arbor these past couple of weeks, although cold. Still, there's something stirring. The squirrels are aggressively robbing the bird feeders and we're going to have to stop storing the beer on the deck. We had 6 boxes of Girl Scout cookies and now we're down to 2. We've watched all but 7 episodes of the 6th season of Northern Exposure, eaten 8 of the 10 pounds of potatoes we stored in the garage. We know how to hunker down.

Obama Mama

2008-09-01T15:53:00.007-04:00

I've been too busy to blog---thankfully, I guess. Here on the eve of the RNC's convention and we are facing another "perfect storm." Perhaps they'll figure out how to make it work to their advantage this time, ("Nice job, Brownie") or the public will finally GET IT! The "more for me" party will do anything to remain in power. They've successfully (depending upon your point of view) privatized education, water, health care, security, etc...but geez, there's just so much more to do! Bring back the cold war, invade Iran, put more oil platforms in the gulf... nominate more x-beauty queens? I need a nap!

Nature Conservancy

2008-05-29T16:27:00.006-04:00

Lake Huron shoreline in the U.P. is still relatively unspoiled. A weekend trip to hunt mushrooms clears the head.

You know you're living in Ann Arbor when...

2008-02-18T14:32:00.007-05:00

Several Saturday nights ago, we went to a local book store to see Ira Glass from This American Life. If you don't know of Ira Glass and his wonderful NPR radio show, you are missing some of the most wonderful moments of listening pleasure ever. If you do know of him, but have never met him, he is as intelligent, funny, charming and self-effacing as you might imagine. I've never seen anyone delight so much in the various and sundry ways we Americans choose to live our lives. Yet, his humor is never cynical or cruel. He loves us! In all our crazy, silly, ironic and hypocritical glory--he sees who we want to be.

Anyway, he was at the bookstore promoting the Discovery Channel version of TAL and said a few words before opening it up to questions. He said, "I'm here for you, so please just ask me anything!" After answering a wild ride of questions, he met each one of us and signed everything and even let people take pictures. He never lost patience or was bored with any of us. I never saw anyone so endlessly curious about other people. It gave me hope.

You know you are living in Ann Arbor when over 200 people show up at a book store on a very cold winter Saturday night!

Let's Have a Little Scientific Integrity

2008-02-17T16:43:00.006-05:00

This week a group of concerned scientists issued a statement about government interference and political pressure brought to bear on scientific knowledge and research. It reminded me of a personal experience with just such an issue over 30 years ago.

We were living in a rural area and decided to raise "organic chickens"--chickens that were raised without hormones on only organic feed (grown without the help of Monsanto). To that end, we had to locate the grain and the proper additive so we could "make" our own special blend of feed. This required research, so we started where every good farmer would--at the local cooperative extension service.

Well, you would have thought we had decided to build a bomb, blow ourselves up and take our neighbors with us. These local representatives of the big university were totally in the pockets of BIG CHEMICAL. Any knowledge they had was thoroughly tainted. Any semblance of scientific objectivity about "organic chicken" was replaced with hysteria, fear and suspicion. We were looked upon as nut cases at best and subversives at worst.

Forgive me if I feel somewhat vindicated these days. . . .

http://www.ucsusa.org/scientific_integrity/restoring/scientificfreedom.html

The Huron River

2008-02-03T15:32:00.002-05:00

One of the really wonderful things about living in Ann Arbor is the Huron River and how much of its banks are totally accesible and not lined with multi-million dollar condos. How did they resist the developer's sweet talk? Good government, that's how. And I'm not afraid to say it. Those who hate government by policy--do so because it seeks to block them from exercising what they call "freedoms." Yeah...freedom to be a greedy slimeball. Freedom to destroy neighborhoods, suck the life out of small towns, devastate the environment. Somehow, the good people of Ann Arbor make their government work for them. We have a great transportation system, more parks were square mile than most small cities, recycling, and public services that seem to work most of the time. Progressives and liberals run this place and it stands as a model to how good government can work when the community's needs are put ahead of ideology.

Voting in the Michigan Primary

2008-01-15T08:52:00.000-05:00

All of a sudden, conservatives have decided that the federal government really can have an effect on local economies like Michigan. They are promising billions to help us out now. It's too little too late. This exodus began a long time ago...global capitalism sucks dollars from one pocket to another. You don't have to have a Nobel prize in Economics to figure out who the winners are. Follow the jobs! Follow the money!

So how do I go about voting? Do I vote for the person whose viewpoints most reflect mine (Dennis), whose rhetoric is most inspiring (Barack) or the candidate with the most experience (Hillary)? Or do I cross over and vote for Mitt (what a Ken doll) or McCain (he's like the uncle you love but argue with all the time). Do I vote for Ron Paul? Is he even on our primary ballot? I've never been so undecided.

"comprehensive propensities"

2008-01-14T15:18:00.000-05:00

In 1969, R. Buckminster Fuller opened his now classic Operating Manuel for Spaceship Earth with these prophetic words: "I am enthusiastic over humanity's extraordinary and sometimes very timely ingenuities. If you are in shipwreck and all the boats are gone, a piano top buoyant enough to keep you afloat that comes along makes a fortuitous life preserver. But this is not to say that the best way to design a life preserver is in the form of a piano top. I think that we are clinging to a great many piano tops in accepting yesterday's fortuitous contriving as constituting the only means for solving a given problem."

I can't help but reflect on Fuller's thoughts when I see the offerings at the Detroit Auto Show which opens this week. They sure have made a lot of pretty nice piano tops.

Things are Worse Than You Think!

2008-01-12T15:18:00.001-05:00

Even Mike Huckabee thinks the Michigan economy stinks! When this poor guy called home, he probably told the family he had a new career in "marketing."

So Gone for So Long

2008-01-08T13:37:00.001-05:00

I've been too busy and preoccupied with making my new nest to keep up with blogging. But the other day, an incident occurred that I just have to share. It's so Ann Arbor! After living in the big city, we are noticing how oddly civilized this little burg is. We got about a foot of snow, and it was so beautiful, we just had to venture out in it. Of course, that meant the layers of polar tech, the rain suit, heavy boots and gloves. I took my digital camera, but kept having to take off my gloves because I couldn't operate the shutter. I stuck my right glove in my left pocket, so I could work the camera.

We had trudged about 2 miles when I discovered that my glove was gone. My pocket was empty. We were too cold to retrace our steps, so we just went back to the loft to warm up.

The next day, we walked the exact same route, and there it was (just as my husband had predicted). Some citizen had hung my glove on the railing just above this sidewalk cafe that I had photographed.

English Only

2007-07-14T12:46:00.000-04:00

Apparently, English is losing ground to other languages here in America; otherwise, why would there be such an effort to "save" it? The "English only" folks fear that new immigrants are not learning our language, yet there is no credible evidence to support that conclusion. In fact, the statistics and considerable research show that today's immigrants are acquiring our language faster than ever before and usually through bi-lingual education programs. "In 1990, only 3% of U.S. residents reported speaking English less than well or very well. Only eight tenths of one percent spoke no English at all" (Crawford, 1998, "Ten Common Fallacies About Bilingual Education"). So what's up with this? Do we really need government intervention to preserve the purity of our own language?

And what exactly would passing laws making English the "official language" entail?

Just imagine the language police, like officious meter readers, running through French bistros in our major cities ticketing everyone who ordered creme brulee! Or spying on the Latino nannies in Beverly Hills as they call to their charges from the park benches? What about a reprimand for using the term deja vu? Perhaps, you would just get a warning. Elle magazine would have to change not only its name, but most of its advertising. And the poor Taco Belle doggie--he'd be fired in favor of a proper English setter. Or worse than that, we'd have to go back to calling a truck a "lorry" and the bathroom the "loo." Visions of Chinese menu burnings dance in my head! Where would we "detain" all the offenders? ?Ellis Island?

Seriously--the historical ignorance displayed by the current politicians who focus on this initiative is appalling. Our founding fathers, despite their many shortcomings, believed in both democratic principles and freedom of speech. The Continental Congress, itself, rejected John Adams' proposal to regulate American English through the establishment of an official language academy! So today's pundits are motivated by stereotypes and fear of diversity, and they know they can count on a certain number of votes if they can keep stirring up this witches brew of fear, racism and xenophobia. Viva Las Vegas! (as Elvis would sing).

Mr. Potato Head

2007-07-11T10:44:00.000-04:00

If you ever contemplate how far we've come as a society, just reflect on a favorite "toy" of the 1950's--the potato. Every home had one or two on hand all the time. It just took some creative person to envision the little feet, the jaunty bowler, the mustache, the arched eyebrows. The possibilities seemed endless. http://www.ideafinder.com/history/inventions/mrpotatohead.htm

Mr. Carrot didn't catch on--there wasn't enough real estate to work with. Mr. Beet would have been interesting if the color hadn't run so easily. Mr. Turnip has a cool purple stripe around it. Lot's of possibilities there. Broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage were out of the running. So was asparagus. Only the true root veggie of choice would hold those little push pin features, with which I'm surprised we didn't choke ourselves. Interesting that Mrs. Potato Head followed shortly after. Lot's more accessories there. Just imagine what a 22nd century kid will be playing with.

The Wisdom of Jack's Mother

2007-07-07T19:38:00.000-04:00

“My mother once said the world would never find peace until men fell at their women's feet and asked for forgiveness. This is true all over the world in the jungles of Mexico, in the back streets of Shang Hai, in New York cocktail bars, husbands are getting drunk while the women stay home with the babes of their ever darkening future. If these men stop the machine and come home and get on their knees and ask for forgiveness and the women bless them peace will suddenly descend on the earth with a great silence like the inherent silence of the apocalypse.” Jack Kerouac

Beat poetry came along
as I was being born and raised—I was much too young for it,
but it waited for me.
hung out in an Indianapolis coffee house called the 11th Hour-- (way before Starbucks was a gleam in the budding entrepreneur’s eye)
languished between the dusty shelves of John King’s in Detroit.
waited for me at the bus station in East Lansing.
slept on the faded benches near Plum Street, on the long grassy stretches of Belle Isle;
lurked in the alleyways off Woodward avenue,
lingered patiently in front of Lafayette Coney Island.
Caught up with me from time to time on John R as I drove east into the sunrise;
In my rear view mirror, weaving in and out of traffic,
heading south on the Lodge freeway.
Now, just today,
behind the Broadway Party Store, -
in front of the faded “Walt’s Crawlers” sign—
“telling the true story of the world in interior monologue.”*

*from Belief & Technique for Modern Prose by Jack Kerouac

Sicko

2007-07-05T18:17:00.000-04:00

Michael Moore throws down with Dr. Gupta! Fantastic!

All Politics are Local

2007-06-07T09:54:00.000-04:00

1200 square feet is supposed to be enough space for two people--but I think they must be very small people who do not have home offices. Right now, my desk is in the master bedroom/loft above the living/dining/kitchen room. The laundry fits in a closet and you can literally put the clean underwear away by taking ONE step backward. It takes 15 minutes to vacuum and the two bathrooms are easily cleaned in 10 mins. My garden is reduced to 5 pots on the terrace and there's no lawn or garden to weed. So what do we do with all this time???? We walk, we eat, we walk some more. Every day is a new adventure. After dinner, we sit on Argo Pond and feed the ducks Zingerman's sourdough bread. We shop like Europeans--daily--and use the local farmer's market. $3.95 a pound for organic tomatoes!!! Yikes! Putting our money where our mouths are...tastes good! Local coffee, local cheese, local wine (not so yucky any more). Michigan strawberries are in already!!!

DetroitGirl does Ann Arbor

2007-05-31T11:35:00.000-04:00

For months, I've thought to write, but I was consumed with sorting the stuff of our lives so that we could move as little as possible. Ah, the dream of backpacking--pretty soon you have 80 pounds of stuff and you have to buy a bigger pack. That cute stove is so heavy that now you have to drive in. Pretty soon, you don't camp any more. Well, we aren't so spartan as all that, but it's been a real education letting go of so much so quickly. When we left our dear Fairway two mornings ago, I didn't shed a tear. I was so ready to let go by then.

This morning, we walked along the Argo Pond near the Huron River, reveling in the newness! We ate at a Latin restaurant last evening and have been finding places for the things we really treasure. The new loft space is walking distance to anything you could want--we just don't have any where to put it! The liquor store sells crawlers; a new cardiac unit is going up on the hill. I could literally crawl to the emergency ward from here--a senior citizen's dream! Yet, I feel like a kid again--running along side my bike and jumping on without hesitation.

More Stuff Finds a Home...

2007-01-22T16:58:00.000-05:00

When we moved into our current house, we fully expected to leave "feet first." Now, I am looking forward to a few more adventures.

During the late 80's and early 90's, I shared a loft near the Eastern Market with another painter. Boy, did we have fun! You could throw paint, hang stuff anywhere--leave work laying around...stack stuff up on the windows--which had a great view of the river and Canada--and drag in stuff you found on the streets. It was liberating in every way--even the 6 floors I had to walk up to get there. Very early this morning, in yet another fit of insomnia, I tuned in "Eight Mile," and discovered that the alley and doorway to my old loft appears in the movie. It was thrilling to see it again--the narrow brick street, the antique sink mounted on the outside of the unrestored building. It made me long for the quirky, the unpolished, the authentic. That actually describes how our house looked when we bought it. Odd tiles, strange ceiling treatments, unpolished authenticity. We cleaned it up and restored it, and quite easily resisted the temptation to "hot-tub" it up. We didn't knock down walls or add marble floors. We simply cleaned it up and restored it to its original condition.

I'm not sure I have another big project like this last one in me, but I'm looking for something interesting, as long as I don't have to climb six flights of stairs to get there...

It's Only Stuff

2007-01-21T17:14:00.000-05:00

It's really interesting what kinds of material things end up being important and evocative. We're moving from a big old house to a radically smaller place and this forces us to make three (see HGTV's Mission Organization!) piles...keep, throw out, or store. But, that just doesn't work for me because each thing needs a good home. An album called "Louie, Louie" must go to my friend Louie! Where else does it belong? So, in the middle of the piles, we called him and he and his wife came to the rescue. They took all the vinyl! That was the most loving thing anyone could have done at that moment! I had sat, making myself crazy, amid piles and forgetting what each pile was--but each one was going to someone different!

The music we really loved had already been re-bought in the old/new technology-- CD's. The albums sat gathering dust and shaming us for not storing them in the way that scolding collectors would have. So, it was a huge relief to see these remnants of our youth find a new home.

Now, if only someone would buy me an Ipod, load it up with Van Morrison, Procol Harem, Jimi Hendricks, the Beatles, Joni Mitchell, The Band, Bob Dylan, and James Brown, I would be forever grateful. Between music and photos, there are some great memories just waiting to be savored--once we finally get settled again.

Just Imagine

2007-01-07T08:58:00.000-05:00

What amazing progress might be made if 20,000 troops were made available to help rebuild New Orleans? Imagine how far a few billion dollars could go in creating a jobs program right here in Michigan. What would happen if CEOs who failed to build strong, ethical, sustainable companies were sent to the unemployment office like the rest of the workers? What if Detroit Public Schools had the well-funded infra-structure of its suburban neighbors? What if you could take a high-speed train from New York to L.A.? What if everyone planted just one 8-foot tree? What if everyone took a day off?

If I Lived in New York

2006-12-28T09:46:00.000-05:00

If I lived in New York City, this morning, I'd take the subway to the Apollo Theatre and pay tribute to James Brown. As a white girl growing up in suburban Detroit, soul music was the only antidote to the stifling, perky, Peter-pan collared, young womanhood to which I was supposed to aspire. But, fortunately, I found a very small group of like-minded girlfriends who would accompany me to the Fox Theatre every Christmas vacation to see the Motown Stars. Can I get a witness???

They Wanted a Challenge

2006-12-19T09:01:00.000-05:00

I'm really very saddened that the body of one of the climbers of Mt. Hood was found yesterday. Like everyone else, I had hoped that they would be found alive and triumphant--having overcome the elements. On the other hand, I'm very angry! Three bright young men needed excitement and challenge so much that they left their families just prior to the holidays and went mountain climbing. While other members were shopping, decorating, planning holiday menus and wrapping presents, they chose the worst time of year to challenge Mt. Hood.

Now, I have a little experience with that mountain. An over eager friend took some of us hiking one summer and we got a little too far out... and on the way back, my hip began to throb and ache (and I was only 23)--so much so that I had to be carried back to the lodge in the dark. So much for taking a risk!

What strikes me is this...why is climbing any mountain considered such a challenge that men (mostly) are willing to spend time, money and risk their lives trying to climb it? Why don't they come into Detroit (or any major city)--empty out the crack houses, bust up the gangs, and disarm the drug lords? Talk about a challenge! Or maybe they could figure out a way to end homelessness. Perhaps they could aim their talents toward a real challenge: reduce child abuse, attack the high illiteracy rates, overhaul the foster care programs, figure out how we can get quality health care to all our children. If that's all too easy, how about the mental health system? There are so many real challenges out there, why go looking for a manufactured one?

Happy Holidays and Seasons Greetings!

2006-12-09T15:51:00.000-05:00

"I don't understand why anyone is against Walmart. . .If the workers don't like their jobs, why don't they work somewhere else? And anyway, poor people need to have a place to shop where the prices are low. . ." (a "real" quote from a "real" person)

I'm tired. It hardly seems worth the effort to try and explain how we are all connected, blah, blah, blah, and how wage suppression and globalization work to make more poor folks poorer and rich folks richer. The very idea of social justice is viewed as incendiary in this country. And truth has taken a long sabbatical.

Yesterday, the government published a report on the "media bias" on reporting global climate change. This packet of propaganda was probably paid for by our tax dollars with a few little side contributions. Evidently, the government has a vested interest in making us believe that global warming is a bunch of hysterical nonsense. Gee--I just wonder whose interest this serves?

Meanwhile, Yale's most famous C student, tries to read the Irag report--probably without a dictionary. So don't do any holiday shopping at Walmart--stay home (save the planet) and order used books from Amazon. While you're at it, send a dictionary to the White House.

Make a List

2006-11-24T12:01:00.000-05:00

Everyone should make a "Top 10 List of Things I'm Grateful For. . ."

1. Turkey sandwich on sourdough bread, with mayo, cranberry chutney and leftover dressing
2. Turkey soup
3. emails from friends and the friends themselves
4. health insurance
5. parents who are still living
6. a joyful 36-year marriage
7. healthy kids
8. the best job I've ever had
9. the view from my back sunroom
10. good skin

Today on Mars. . .

2006-11-19T17:03:00.000-05:00

While customizing my Google Home page, I became absolutely entranced with the NASA site and the amazing pictures that are available to us in this century. This picture was taken TODAY!!! While I cleaned my office, did laundry, and organized my family photos, this little human-built Rover was taking a Sunday drive on the surface of Mars and sending pictures back to us. As Plato once wrote: "What if the man could see Beauty Itself, pure, unalloyed, stripped of mortality and all its pollution, stains, and vanities, unchanging, divine, . . .would that be a life to disregard?"

Brown Sticks and Mud

2006-11-18T13:10:00.000-05:00

This is the time of year I find it really hard to justify staying in Michigan for the next 10 years. . . the hills around St. Remy beckon and the spirit, if not the body, is more than willing to participate in the grape and lavender harvests. I would live, happily, without a car, preferably above a bakery. The walking would certainly mitigate the extra calories. I'd take my bicycle to the market and I'd spend time sketching the countryside or writing.

Interestingly, we had old friends in from "up north" this week, and the topic of our children and their lives came up, as it always does. They have a son and niece who are "freegans." I have never heard this term before, so they explained. These young people live in a commune together where they all pool resources. They walk dogs to pay the rent and utility bills, but everything else they need is traded for, or they buy it resale. They eschew anything new--including shoes--and they get all their food from dumpsters. They find perfectly good things thrown away all the time. Additionally, the house is substance-free (something you tell your parents to calm them down.) Now, I don't think I'm longing for a lifestyle that radical, but these kids are onto something, I think.

And this time of year, my mind wanders to the far ends of how to live.

Frozen Pigs on the Highway

2006-11-16T10:06:00.000-05:00

I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing about things that I see or hear every day--the weird stuff that sticks in my brain like the "hook" from Eminem's "Lose Yourself." Admit it, you might really hate rap, but you loved that song. His rhetorical strategies rock.

So, that's what this image of frozen pigs has been. I wish I hadn't seen the picture, but I was taking my mid-day newsbreak and there it was...an arial shot of about 50 frozen, full-grown pig carcasses strewn all over the southbound lanes of the Golden State Freeway. Now, I am not your average meat eater. I've actually raised piglets from cute little bundles of wiggles to large lumbering hogs, and I've participated in the slaughter, butchering and smoking of the hams and bacon. I've rendered lard until every doorknob in the house glistened with pig grease. (It makes the best pie crust ever!) Despite my experiences with pork, this picture was really disturbing for some reason. Maybe I'll have to arrange an antedotal viewing of "Babe."

A Long Vacation

2006-11-09T11:56:00.000-05:00

I took a long vacation from blogging not because I didn't have a lot to say, I was just saying it some place else. After a heavy load of teaching this fall, I'm recommitting to blogging for several reasons: one, it makes be feel young, hip and cool; and two, I should be doing it because I teach writing and I nag my students to write. I like the idea of having a place in cyberspace where I can pull together different items and create a collage of expression. So here I am again--please be kind.

I'm Gonna Move Up to the Country and Paint My Mailbox Blue

2006-09-07T11:50:00.000-04:00

I enjoyed my tomatoes, eggplants, beans and basil so much this year that I've been shopping for a place with a little land to it. My current front yard is large, but it's in a very formal neighborhood where corn stalks would probably set off a riot. So I'm searching for just the right combination of land to house ratio--something small enough to clean in 3 hours, but large enough to accomodate weekend guests. Enough trees to provide shade and privacy, but a patch of ground that gets sunlight all day long. A little creek and a small barn might work, too.

On the other hand, a loft downtown appeals to the part of me that loves this city and is enjoying it's current rebirth, however slow and small. I suppose the perfect setting would be a loft on the riverfront with a rooftop garden where I could grow corn. . .but then there's the issue of the blue mailbox

Get Off My Back!

2006-08-30T09:45:00.000-04:00

I've been too busy to post and besides if you have time to miss me, you need to get a life! Just kidding...

Late August evokes a kind of mood we used to call "high school Sundays." Those days are bittersweet, in that the weekend is over and you didn't have quite as much fun as you would have liked to have had; and furthermore, you didn't even begin to do that 20-page research paper that's due on Monday.

Summer's almost over and I only kayaked once, only swam once, and only picnicked once. I worked a lot, as most of us do, but didn't get around to that 20-page research paper (the novel, the poems the paintings) that I really meant to do. Fall is in the air, the acorns are littering the sidewalk, and it's time for sweaters already.

I don't even want to talk about the larger world, the Katrina anniversary pageant that Bush rolled out, the continuing corporate pimping of democracy--it's all too ugly.

Instead, I'll revel in the fun of new notebooks, the smell of the paper, the pencil boxes, the crack of new textbook bindings, the feel of a new ink pen.

Quagmire Accomplished

2006-07-25T11:29:00.000-04:00

Over a week ago, as the bombs were dropping in Lebanon, I was scheduled to meet a young student of mine who struggles with writing in English--because it is his third language. He's from Lebanon--and when I got to class to meet him, he wasn't there. I proceeded to prepare and make copies and other things I do to get ready to teach a class.

When he came in, he was ashen and could barely speak. My hearing is so bad and his accent so thick that when he breathlessly uttered, "My cousin has been killed,” I heard "hurt." His eyes widened and I quickly realized I had not responded in a way consistent with the seriousness of the situation. He clarified in a louder voice and I nodded my understanding.

Others were filing into class, and so he took his seat. During our discussions about our personal missions and how we see ourselves as citizens in the world, he was passionate and wanting to help his country. But, he's, thankfully, stuck here.

The horror of what is being done in the name of "freedom" by our country and all the others who still believe that violence will bring about peace--is unfathomable! These entrenched hatreds, fueled by fundamentalists on BOTH sides--will continue and threatens to send all of us into a worldwide conflict. I've been feeling no less horrified and hopeless as my student.

Then, I read about an inter-faith group of Arabs and Jews who meet regularly to discuss (peacefully) the problems in the Middle East. Here, in the Detroit area, where we have the largest population of Arab immigrants in the USA, they all live and work side by side--they go to movies, out to eat, they worship and raise families right next door to each other and next door to Jews and Christians--and sometimes the occasional Buddhist.

The point is, there must be a better way for the USA to influence the world toward peaceful coexistence than the route the neo-conservatives have mapped out. The foundation of their beliefs is so flawed, so laden with a lethal combination of ignorance and arrogance, that I fear for all of our futures.

We simply have not absorbed the lessons of the past. In the same way that the Ku Klux Klan was absorbed into Southern culture after Reconstruction, these terrorist groups all over the Middle East are often the only perceived "protection" these people have. When southern whites felt that the "system" in place would not protect them, they wrongfully embraced (sometimes in secret) those whom they believed had their best interests at heart. In the same way that people trapped in inner city poverty will look the other way when the drug kingpin hands out dollar bills to the children, civilians caught in this tragic crossfire are faced with a similar moral dilemma. In the absence of an infrastructure that is vigilantly attacking poverty and injustice, people will turn to the next worst thing. And here we are.

Protesters at Wayne State in the 1960's

2006-07-12T17:44:00.000-04:00

I was conducting a little research today and ran across this incredible picture. It really struck me! Compare your image of 1960's war protesters with the young people in this picture. Anti-war demonstrators were, of course, villified during that time. They were tear gassed, infiltrated, spied upon, spat upon, arrested, and at least one I know was almost run down by a pick up truck that deliberately swerved onto the sidewalk where she was handing out leaflets for the Student Mobilization Committee. I wonder where these students are today and I wonder if they still view war as a failure of the collective imagination.

Corn in the Front Yard

2006-07-06T12:40:00.000-04:00

I remember knowing eccentric old women--one who had a talking myna bird named "Tammy"--another who kept all of her past copies of the New York Times and every shopping bag she'd ever gotten. I always found these women charming, but I never anticipated modeling myself after them--at least not intentionally.

This spring, however, I found myself wanting to grow corn in my sunny front lawn--even though the street is lined with large formal Tudors. To accommodate this urge, I allowed my father, the most steadfast and intense gardener I know, to put in eggplants, tomatoes, cucumbers, dill, basil and beans right in the front perennial beds. From the street, no one can tell that a little kitchen garden is being tended. But I feel a bit funny when the Jaguar convertibles and Cadillac Escalades cruise by when I'm out weeding and hoeing. My front yard is supposed to betray any sense of practicality--everyone irrigates chemically-fed grass and well-pruned, but useless bushes. The front yard is merely for show.

The mailman comes on foot every day and he often looks longingly at my garden--as if conjuring up some distant memory of warm tomatoes--freshly picked. I think I'm becoming the eccentric woman in his life.

Exercising Freedom of Speech

2006-06-29T09:22:00.000-04:00

Flag Burning or Flag Waving??

2006-06-27T14:30:00.000-04:00

Do we really need a constitutional amendment to tell us how to be patriotic? I find it ironic that the very people who have actively and cheerfully dismantled our democracy and destroyed any government "for the people" want to propose that people be prosecuted for burning the flag. These political hacks should be villified for waving flags while promoting unjust labor policies, preemptive wars, and environmental devastation worldwide. But I guess this is what our flag stands for now--it's a symbol that is now held hostage by mega-corporate interests. These same politicians have no problem when the Nascar crowd bundles up in flag jackets and red, white, and blue striped capri pants. Next time I'm at the track, I think I'll light my capri pants on fire and see what happens.

Keep on Rockin'

2006-06-11T09:23:00.000-04:00

While cleaning the attic yesterday, I finally found the pictures of the very first Rolling Stones concert in Detroit. It was 1965--Olympia Stadium. I was in the 2nd row and there were only around 300 people there. Six months later, they "blew up"-- as they say these days. Anyway, the most interesting thing about one picture is the police officer in the foreground. He looks bored. I guess he never imagined that 40 years later Mick Jagger would still be rockin'--

We Got 'em!

2006-06-08T09:24:00.000-04:00

This morning the news is filled with self-satisfied pronouncements by our leaders declaring we killed the leader of the terrorists in Iran. It's a little like declaring victory over kudzu (a particularly invasive plant) because you were able to yank up a few vines.

Many Americans still believe that close examination of the structural, economic, and political causes of terrorism is like blaming the victims. Even though the young woman who stayed out too late, drank too much, and was raped and murdered by the bar's security guard can't be blamed for her own tragic demise--we must begin to recognize the possible consequences of our country's naive and simplistic world view. This view can be encapsulated in Bush's declaration, "They hate us because we're free!" But how free can Americans be if we can't travel to other countries without fear of reprisals for our government's misguided adventures? How "free" are we to pursue happiness if, as our jobs are disappearing overseas, the price of gasoline eats into a family budget constricted by falling wages and a loss of benefits? This is "homeland security?"

It's a real shell game the conservatives are playing now. Quick, look over here--some gay people might want to get married! Oh yeah, and we killed a big, bad terrorist!!!! Mission accomplished, indeed.

Meanwhile, our children's futures have been mortgaged, the infrastructure neglected, jobs exported, and the environment destroyed by people who find it so easy, perhaps even laudable, to put their hands into our pockets.

Word Power to the People

2006-05-31T09:17:00.000-04:00

This is one of the most inspiring signs of hope I've run across... No wonder corporate media is scrambling to get its tentacles around the Internet.

http://www.democracynow.org/article.pl?sid=06/05/31/1330245

Marshmallows and Public Policy

2006-05-23T10:16:00.000-04:00

David Brooks writes, in the Times, about Walter Mischel's classic marshmallow test, the one in which 4-year olds were left alone with a marshmallow and told that if they could wait until the tester came back, they could have two. The children were video taped and Mischel reported that those who were able to exercise self-control, distract themselves and wait for the marshmallows went on to achieve higher SAT scores and better lives all around. The problem is this, however. Brooks uses this outcome to pummel educators and public policy makers who want to reduce poverty, improve test scores by reducing class size, increase teacher pay and mandate universal day care. Amazing that a simple marshmallow could be conflated into so much bullshit.

Brooks goes on, however, to contradict himself when he says: "The ability to delay gratification, like most skills, correlates with socioeconomic status and parenting styles," and he cites Jonathan Haidt's "The Happiness Hypothesis" that asserts the "creating stable, predictable environments for children, in which good behavior pays off. . ." is what "works."

In my mind, a stable, predictable environment just might include at least the following: safe and affordable housing (not relocating every 3-4 months), enough healthy food to eat, heat and water that doesn't get cut off every winter, basic health care so that the emergency room isn't the only time a child sees a doctor, clean air--so that poor children who have the highest incidents of asthma can spend a few more days in school, a good job--so Mom and Dad don't both have to work two jobs just to make ends meet. Universal day care--as high quality as our military training.

We might also increase teacher pay so that some of the best and brightest will go into teaching and stay there. (I'm a teacher and I've never made enough money to support a family of four above poverty level--and sadly, I don't recommend it to young people.) Most teachers leave after 5 years--and no wonder. We get tired of not being respected or listened to--simply because we've chosen to do the impossible--educate children in a society that doesn't respect knowledge at all--only dollars. Years and years of solid research (on bi-lingual education, class size, writing skills, reading, etc.) is dismissed in a right-wing wave and a sneer. Our textbooks, when we get them, are sanitized and sugercoat history. We have to spend our own money! Americans fund schools with property taxes and so the children who need the most help, get the least. And this is justice? Every poor child left behind--along with their schools.

Brooks dismisses these "structural reforms" that we "obsess over. . ." and accuses educators and policy makers of ignoring the "moral and psychological traits that are at the heart of actual success." These traits, however, can be learned in a stable, predictable environment--one in which a child knows he will be fed, he will be sleeping in his own bed, and that someone who is being well compensated for vital work will be tucking him in. There are other countries that have figured this out--but we're still busy playing the blame game. We expect 3- year olds to have "personal responsibility" without giving them the tools--and we punish them by pointing to the exceptions. . . and their considerable bootstraps.

Hold on China: The Real Revolution is Here

2006-04-10T14:42:00.000-04:00

Does it cheer anyone else up that China just made a deal with Harley Davidson? I don't know, but I think that they are about to experience the '60's--and it's going to be a bumpy ride! I love the new punk rockers in Bejing--they refuse to live "normal factory lives" and all they want to do is rock out in their basements and garages. (Do they have garages?) With their pink hair and tatoos, black clothing and anarchist attitudes--they are the hope of a nation! Cool!

Tom Delay Awaiting Canonization

2006-04-07T14:36:00.000-04:00

There's Nothing Worse than the Former House Majority Leader Pretending to be a Christian

2006-04-07T14:22:00.000-04:00

Dear Tom,

I heard what you said to Chris Matthews (re: Sen. Clinton) in an unguarded moment. . . which says as much about him as it does about you..."There's nothing worse than a know-it-all-woman." I'm quite sure you meant that the only thing worse than that might be a stripper who thinks she doesn't deserve to be raped by upstanding members of the Duke University LaCrosse team. Or maybe there's nothing worse than a low-life, lying, power-hungry, hypocritical creep pretending to be a Christian.

You know you're upper middle class when. . .

2006-03-31T17:41:00.000-05:00

You have to call your massage therapist because you lost your appointment card and you forgot to put the appointment in your calendar.
You have a closet for just your winter clothes.
Leftovers consist of seared tuna and arugela salad.
It bothers you to carry a black purse while wearing tan sandals.
Bush's grammar faux pas make your skin crawl.
You use phrases like "faux pas."
Your hairdresser calls your cell phone when you are late for a cut.
You worry that the newly installed copper gutters aren't turning verdi gris fast enough.
You know exactly what color "verdi gris" is.

Stormy Kromer

2006-03-13T09:00:00.000-05:00

Every once in a while a really perfect thing comes along and its very existence is satisfying. We were visiting the U.P (Upper Peninsula of Michigan) this last winter and went into a small shop that sat almost on Lake Huron. It was 10 degrees and sunny--the town was almost empty save a few pickup trucks and a snowmobile or two. That's where I got my "Stormy Kromer." It's the greatest winter hat $25 can buy. And it has a history--written inside the cap--on the label. I won't spoil it for you. It's made in Michigan--all the better. Sadly, it's probably too warm to wear in the spring--but anything that can make me look forward to next winter is a really blessing. Thanks, Stormy.

Spring in the City

2006-03-11T11:06:00.000-05:00

My great grandmother's peonies are sprouting--a sure sign that most of the worst of winter is probably over. I've been sorting through old cards, letters, pictures, etc. and I found the picture that best depicts Detroit to me. When it was taken, I was driving along John R on my way home from work one day a few years ago, and I stopped to photograph this magnificent rose bush. You can see that it is growing up against and through the fence that surrounds an abandoned building. It hasn't been pruned or fed or sprayed, I'm sure. And yet, it is wildly abundant in blooms and has the most magnificent color. What a cliche'--but I love it anyway.

George W Comes Out

2006-03-10T13:03:00.000-05:00

There are still people clinging to the illusion that just because one gets elected, one is smart enough to run the country. I think the only way those last few folks would ever turn against GWB is if he came out.

Growing Old Gracefully

2006-02-27T13:26:00.000-05:00

Sorting and sifting stuff--reflecting on life and aging--ran across this picture I tore out of a magazine some time ago. Tried to throw it away--not successful. So I scanned it, played with it and here it is. My new logo. Forever young--as Bob Dylan says.

Cleaning out the Closets

2006-02-23T10:49:00.000-05:00

In preparation for downsizing (a euphemism for getting into a house you don't have to starve to own), I've been cleaning a closet or a drawer, daily, for the last few months. I've found some interesting things that I know are not mine and I don't have a clue how they got here--a man's black umbrella, an orange beach towel, a tri-pod, a fur-trimmed hood from a blue coat and a CD by David Cross entitled "It's Not Funny." Somehow I can't get the vision of myself wrapped in the orange beach towel, wearing the fur-trimmed hood, standing next to the tri-pod upon which the David Cross CD is balanced. It would make a good album cover.

Psycho Housewife

2006-02-22T15:09:00.000-05:00

Just Asking

2006-02-21T15:44:00.000-05:00

Am I missing something? Why would anyone think it was a good idea to let someone else run several of our major ports? If it's not a good idea to let a few folks talk on the phone to potential terrorists or surf the net for subversive information, how in the world can this plan be a solid one? What I want to know is who gets rich off of this deal. Let me guess! Could it be the Vice President or some of his buddies? Give me a list! Follow the money. I'm serious. Who does this benefit?

Is There Any Hope for the Irony Impaired?

2006-02-17T13:35:00.000-05:00

Recently, Leonard Pitts, a columnist from Miami, referred to those impassioned Islamics who are violently protesting the cartoon in which Muhammad was depicted with a bomb in his turban as "irony impaired." So today, I received an email asking me to join the drive to "stop shoot first in Michigan." After the Vice President's little accident, I find this somewhat ironic. Perhaps, "stop shoot first in Texas" would be more appropriate. Honestly, the VP's hunting accident doesn't tell me anything about his or his cronies' behavior that I didn't already know--reckless and secretive. But there are more important issues to focus on--war, torture, global warming, post-Katrina analysis, and elections that don't seem to go our way. So, I think I'll curl up and watch another rerun of West Wing. It's all that's left.

What if George W. Bush had been born black?

2006-02-03T14:22:00.000-05:00

It's always interesting to me to imagine some absurd thing like what if the president was born black instead of white. If I had a large staff of researchers on a payroll, the first thing I'd do is get actuarial tables and make fruitful comparisions. I'd trace each significant factor in GWB's life and imagine how those factors would play out if he had been born black. More than likely, our black GWB would have ended up in Viet Nam--probably would have been injured and sent home with his pant leg pinned up. A not so bright black kid with an obvious langauge impediment most probably wouldn't have gotten into Yale--even with affirmative action. If he drank alot, like our own GWB, I'll bet no black Laura would have married him--let alone put up with him for so many years. One coke bust and a few DUI's and our man would probably have done a little jail time...instead of Yale time. In fact, that homeless guy on the corner, yeah, the one with one leg--with just a little twist of luck, he could have been president! What a country!

Make Your Parents Proud

2006-01-31T16:36:00.000-05:00

I ran across this on one of the many Detroit booster sites that I lurk around and it made me laugh out loud. I'm sure my parents never expected that I would live in Detroit when they moved me to Michigan in 1962--they selected Beverly Hills, a bucolic suburb with the blandness of vanilla pudding. As soon as I was old enough to talk my friends into driving me, we would skip school and venture into the city--to Belle Isle, the Detroit Public Library, the Lafayette Coney Island. We regularly attended the Fox Theater holiday Motown shows--in fact, we were often the only white girls there...utterly devoted to Smoky Robinson, Marvin Gaye, "Little" Stevie Wonder and the rest. One summer, we met the Supremes outside their trailer at the State Fair grounds and got autographs. They were so skinny and small under those huge bouffant hairdos.

That same year, we saw the Beatles at Olympia stadium--not once but twice. We hid in a suite for the time between the 2 p.m. show and the 6 p.m. The tickets looked the same! The Stones came next--but only 300 people were at that first show.

Each time we ventured into the city, we became more and more comfortable, convinced that all the fear other people expressed was just stupid. Now, having lived here over 10 years, I can honestly say we have had fewer brushes with crime than our country living counterparts. My friends who have been burglarized live in the country. Cars that have been broken into were parked in the suburbs. Yet, the fear remains.

This week I hope that SuperBowl XL makes our parents proud--this city has so much to offer--such a creative place with so much talent.

An Economics Lesson

2006-01-30T09:11:00.000-05:00

This is just in from my friends at the Michigan Democratic Party. First these creeps steal the election, now they are lying about our governor.

"The DeVos for Governor Campaign and the MI GOP are trying to mislead people about the jobs numbers in Michigan. Why? Because the Bush economic and trade policies that DeVos supports have helped cause the economic problems in Michigan. DeVos himself, while head of Amway, laid off 1,400 Michigan employees and created tens of thousands of jobs in China.

The Republicans have put out three different numbers on Michigan jobs statistics in two days. What they haven't disclosed is the number of Michigan jobs lost due to their outsourcing policies, nor have they mentioned the number of jobs created or retained under Governor Granholm.

Here are the facts:
FACT 1: Republican trade and tax policies encouraging outsourcing devastate Michigan.
Since President Bush took office in 2001, Michigan has lost 203,287 jobs due to outsourcing.
Over: 1826 days
That's: 111 jobs per day
4.62 jobs an hour
1 job every 13 minutes
Source - http://www.techsunite.org/offshore/index.cfm

FACT 2: Republicans are arguing among themselves about the jobs numbers.
In the last couple of days they've put out numbers that don’t add up, and aren’t consistent.

FACT 3: More people are working today than when Governor Granholm took office in 2003
During the first three years of the Granholm Administration, total employment in Michigan increased by 99,000 (with employment increasing by 87,000 in 2005, alone)
Month Employment
2005 (Dec) 4,795,000 2003 (Jan) 4,696,000
Employment growth + 99,000
Source: Michigan Department of Labor & Economic Development http://www.michlmi.org/LMI/lmadata/laus/2005/misa78-05.htm

Fact 4: Governor Granholm has a plan to secure Michigan's Future. The contrasts are very clear. Last night Governor Granholm clearly showed that she has a plan for Michigan's economy and that it is beginning to work. Don't let the Republicans play politics with our jobs. They caused our economic problems and she's working to move Michigan forward."

She's been busy trying to overcome THREE terms of Republican Gov. Engler who all but destroyed the state. Sometimes I wish WE had a Karl Rove--

SuperBowl Countdown

2006-01-26T10:45:00.000-05:00

I'll be rooting for the Steelers in SuperBowl XL because Jerome Bettis is our hometown boy. Football is only interesting if you know someone who is playing--I found that out when my son began to play in 9th grade. Before that time, football looked like chaos to me--I could not distinguish between the offense and the defense, couldn't spot an offsides, or a holding on the offense. Now, I sometimes make the call before the officials do.

There are a lot of things in life that people dismiss as boring. On the other hand, I always wonder what is it that makes something interesting to someone else. If someone finds stamp collecting fascinating, I want to know why! How is it that people can watch golf on TV? Why would anyone do crossword puzzles? What are they seeing that I'm not?

I am reminded of a quotation that my favorite Humanities teacher put on the board one day: "A book is like a mirror; if an ass peers in, don't expect an angel to peer out." Perhaps this could be applied to a lot of things. If I'm bored by something, maybe I just don't know enough about it yet. On the other hand, maybe it's really just mind-numbingly boring.

Camille Claudel and Rodin

2006-01-23T13:11:00.000-05:00

A little affirmative action back in Rodin's day might have kept his protege, Camille Claudel, out of the asylum where she spent the last 30 years of her life. Frustrated by her own creativity and "demons" (according to the narrative on the audio tour of the exhibition), she became paranoid and increasingly unable to function. Demons! What a quaint way to describe rampant and unrelenting sexism in 19th century French society.

Anyone who sees the current exhibition at the Detroit Institute of Arts cannot help but notice that her sculptures are as powerful and evocative as his. But Rodin was considered a genius and praised and courted by French society, while Camille worked behind the scenes mostly unnoticed. Women were not considered creative, nor artistic and certainly not capable of genius.

I'll bet that asylum was filled with some of the most intelligent, talented women French society had ever produced. We'll never know.

Scraping by on a $20 Lunch

2006-01-19T08:40:00.000-05:00

What will it take to wake up the sleeping masses of sheep? Perhaps Trent Lott's comment yesterday will incite a few people to riot or even better--to vote the bums out of office. He was complaining about the possible lobbying restrictions in an interview and commented that a$20 limit was ridiculous--"Where ya gonna go? McDonalds?"

I wonder how many families have to live on $20 a day in groceries. The federal government budget for school lunches also comes to mind as a fruitful (pun intended) comparison--remember Ronald Regan's "ketchup as a vegetable" pronouncement?

Pat Robertson expressed sympathy for these poor members of congress who have to maintain two houses--no wonder they have to eat lunch with lobbyists!

I have a better solution! Put them all in Public Housing! Let them travel coach! Let them pay for their own health insurance, prescription drugs, lunches and vacations! They might start seeing the wisdom of rethinking an economic system that is totally market driven and look to any other progressive country for solutions to social problems.

There are too many hands in the pockets of the military/industrial/evangelical complex. This unholy alliance has a stranglehold on our country and has all but killed the American dream. We elect these people to make thoughtful, reflective, informed and critical decisions about what kind of country we will be. But they are for sale--and their decisions are tainted by corruption. What's it going to take to make us fight back?

In Praise of Rit Dye

2006-01-16T14:12:00.000-05:00

I'm sure the housewives of the 1950's could tell a better tale than this, but I just have to share. It's messy, but I have spent the last few days dying old white and dingy grey towels and a few old throw rugs to use in our cabin up north. Rather than toss them or tear them into rags, I bought several boxes (and it now comes in bottles, too) of Rit dye and followed the directions. Ever the artist, I mixed a denim blue and forest green dye and threw in a dozen or so towels. A few hours later, the most lovely shade of dusty teal had replaced dingy. Positively energized and feeling self-righteous about the sheer thriftiness of such activity, I began to hunt for other things I could dye--Today two ugly tan throw rugs will succumb to the hot Rit bath and emerge newly teal. There should be some kind of metaphor here, but I'll leave that to the English teachers of the world.

Brown Sticks and Mud

2006-01-09T08:57:00.000-05:00

This is the time of year I wonder how anyone can live here--it's cold, gray and there is only a dusting of dirty snow to cover the trash that has blown up against the fences and bushes. My daughter lives in the perpetual sunshine of L.A., near the ocean--but as she points out--since it is always there, you rarely decide to go swimming--you can always go another day.

I think this is how being young felt...there was always another day--another month--another year. The sense of urgency just wasn't there. We'll go to Greece one day--I'll get an MFA. We'll build our own house--visit Singapore, rent a small farm in Italy for the summer.

So, Detroit winters are a great time to get out the world atlas, the travel brochures, collect house plans from the Internet, read the seed catalogs. Forced indoors, we are also forced a bit inside ourselves. This isn't the worst thing that can happen--The worst thing is have no plans ready for when those brown sticks start to bud and that mud begins to sprout green.

Where the rain never falls, and the sun never shines...

2006-01-05T15:07:00.000-05:00

I wonder how the mine owners and the industry insiders that Bush appointed to "oversee" mine safety sleep at night. What do you do if you suddenly realize that your whole career is built on a carefully constructed house of cards, one that has recently destroyed a dozen or so families? Accidents don't just happen--they are usually the result of cutting corners. It takes a lot of corner cutting to pay for all those golf outings, second homes, first-class tickets, and courtside seats.

Happy New Year

2006-01-02T23:02:00.000-05:00

Things better get better or else I'm leaving!

Political Correctness

2005-12-20T09:14:00.000-05:00

It took me a while, but I finally realized why the term politically correct offends me so much. As an unreconstructed idealist and patriot who still maintains faith in the positive growth of human beings and our American society (silly me), I find this term to be most insidiously cynical and damaging phrase spun out of the conservative camp in the last two decades. When anyone uses the term, what they are really saying is..."I know it's morally wrong to be sexist, racist, greedy, vulgar, etc..., but I don't f*in care!" These same folks are currently upset about Happy Holidays vs. Merry Christmas. They believe torture is okay, spying on American citizens is necessary to "protect" them, and democracy can be forced down the throats of any country that has enough oil.

Well, Happy Holidays--Seasons Greetings--and Peace on Earth. If that's not politically correct enough, then f* you!

Twenty-seven in a Million

2005-12-18T10:29:00.000-05:00

I was invited party last night to celebrate a former student's admittance into law school. This student is one I refer to endlessly when lecturing my current students about commitment and hard work. J was not the smartest kid in the class, but she didn't know that and no one could out work this young woman. She had a baby while still in the 8th grade--no one knew--not her friends, her mother, nor her teachers. ("I had sex once," she said. "Never again!") By the 10th grade, she was in my Honors American Literature class, and I had no idea that she had a baby until she came to me to get a week's worth of homework--in advance. When I asked why, she said her daughter had to have heart surgery. I almost didn't believe her.

J was never happy with any grade lower than an A, and she stayed after school as long as I would allow her in order to make corrections on her work. She rewrote papers endlessly, struggling with grammar and punctuation as many students do. Her limited vocabulary frustrated her as she tried to read Thomas Paine, Emerson, and Thoreau.

By her senior year, she elected to take AP English (despite mediocre test scores) and she gave up basketball (an outstanding player, she was being recruited by Division II teams) to concentrate on her grades. "I don't want to be the stereotype single mother," she declared. She wanted to be valdictorian--and to go to a top school.

AP Literature did not come easy to her. Much more comfortable with mathematics, she had problems with abstractions and nuance and was often frustrated when I could not give her a formula for some thematic or symbolic element in a text.

She missed valdictorin by three-tenths of a point, but got into the top school...despite unremarkable standardized test scores. She started college majoring in computer engineering, but very soon realized this was not her passion--despite a definite proclivity for math and science. She changed her major to English--much to my surprise.

After graduating with a 3.6, she was turned down by several top law schools due to average standardized test scores. Undaunted, she went to work for the NAACP, and began a Masters program in Public Administration which she completed with a 4.0. Still, her test scores did not tell the whole story, and she was denied admission to several law schools. Finally, she participated in a special week-long program designed to allow the school in question to meet her and evalute her ability to work in groups on practice cases and briefs. Of course, J emerged as a superstar and was accepted to the school.

Last night, I hugged J, her mother, and the baby--now 9 years old--and heard about other students in the class of 2000 (there were 27 of them)-one in medical school, another in graduate school, and others who have completed college in various places all over the country. I also heard about the ones with babies, but no daddies, and no degrees. You'll see their stories in the newspaper and on television; meanwhile J will march ahead, defying the sterotype with sheer will and determination.

From SDS to AARP

2005-12-14T08:32:00.000-05:00

Feeling a bit down during the holidays (whoops! I mean Christmas!--after all there's a war goin' on.) ? Just visit a few old folks and enjoy what remains of the the spring in your step and the hearing you still have, even after too many nights in front of the speakers at too many concerts. Attend a Christmas sing-along with people who don't care if they are off-key or that they have forgotten the words. Delight in decorations made of recycled toilet paper rolls and tin foil.

About this so-called "war" on Christmas...The only war I recognize is the one the conservative Christians are waging against working people, gay people, single parents, students, young parents, old folks and the poor. These people claim to represent Christ--but they have no interest in the "least of these..." They seem to side with folks who already have more than enough. As Joni Mitchell once wrote..."some get the gravy, some get the gristle, some get the marrow bone, and some get nothing...though there's plenty to spare."

The Dog Ate My Homework

2005-12-08T17:39:00.000-05:00

As a teacher, one expects excuses, but this week has been the king dog daddy of a week for weird excuses.

"Dear Professor *, I cannot continue to attend your class due to my unfortunate situation. I had to go to court this week and it looks like I might have to go back to jail. I would like to meet with you one-on-one about my grade." Hmmmmm.

"Dear Professor *, I ran out of medication for my ADD and cannot finish my final paper. I was too embarrassed to tell you."

"Dear Professor *, I am having too much mental stress with trying to do all YOUR work (my work?--no I am quite finished with my degree--this is YOUR work!), so please extend, to me, kindly, an incomplete." Oh for the simple bygone days of misbehaving pets. . .

Cleaning House

2005-12-03T11:35:00.000-05:00

When nothing else works, I always fall back on cleaning closets. Today, I ran across four vintage purses (not really, just old) and found all kinds of loose change and a lot of those moist towlettes, that are no longer moist, I'm sure.

Finding a home for things I no longer want makes me really happy--I gave away several bolts of vintage fabric to a decorator who could not believe I didn't want money for them. I told her that I'd call her for advice some time and she could talk to me for free.

I think people should barter more--it avoids the whole payroll tax routine--not to mention the whole "money" thing. Bake me some bread and I'll edit your next history paper. Paint my bathroom and I'll tell you how to get through writer's block. Bring me a load of firewood and I'll tutor your kids in grammar. C'mon, it could really work!

Road Trip

2005-11-16T09:15:00.000-05:00

Today, I'm off on a road trip--something I don't do very often alone. I'll carry bread from my favorite bakery, several journals, some poetry to read at the conference and some Vernors for my host who is a native Detroiter. I'll pack my favorite music and head off to a place I've never been before, temporarily untethered--except by cell phone-- to the life I lead here. I'll recall road trips from the past--one in particular--taken in a restored 1942 Studebaker. We were more adventurous then--a few dollars in our pockets and we could move across the country, crash with friends for a few weeks and find a new place, another life. It's not so easy now--burdened with stuff--antiques, books, photo albums, artwork, computers, the kids' stuffed animals...

A question sometimes posed is: "what would you take to a desert island?" I'd like to put a more pedestrian question out there--"What would you put in a Ford Focus wagon and where would you go if you had a one-year paid sabbatical?" Think about it and get back to me.

2005-11-04T08:10:00.000-05:00

The following email came today and cheered me up tremendously! This young woman was a student of mine several years ago and faced many difficulties simply finishing high school--only one of which was a pregnancy at the age of 12. But, she now can speak very well for herself!

Hello Friends and Family,

As many of you know the week of October 24-30, 2005, I was in Lansing, MI attending the Thomas Cooley Law School qualifying program. The program was very intensive, and I believe the most intellectually challenging task I ever was involved in. There were 31 people in the program from all over. We had people from Jamaica, Africa, LA, Vegas, and many other states from the East to the West Coast. We studied the 7 different intentional torts: battery, assault, false imprisonment, intentional infliction of emotional distress, trespass to chattel, trespass to land, and conversion. In one week, we were taught how to brief a case and use legal analysis to write out the different elements of the law. It was unreal how complex the laws of our land are. We were only studying seven laws, but getting down the format and the language used to make an argument for or against the plaintiff was unlike anything I have ever done. Although the week- long studying was very intensive, it made me want to learn the law even more. We had 3 people leave the program without even notifying the coordinator that they were quitting. It made me feel good that although I was struggling, I stayed the course and gave my best possible effort. So right now I have to wait until the 15th or so, and I will know if I am indeed admitted into Thomas Cooley Law School. In the meanwhile, I am still taking classes for my master's in management and public administration with a gpa of 4.0.
I must say that I truly appreciate all the support that each and everyone of you have given me as I try to make a better future for my daughter and myself. I know that with God's will I will be sending out an email letting everyone know that I have been admitted into law school for 2006, so look for another email from me in the next weeks to come. I hope that everyone is doing well and please if I haven't heard from you in a while drop me a line and let me know how you are doing.

Well, since receiving this email, I'm doing a lot better!

Greater and Greater Grace

2005-11-03T14:42:00.000-05:00

I'm glad I made the effort (walking about 3 miles, standing in line for 3 1/2 hours) to get into Greater Grace Temple where Rosa Parks' funeral was held yesterday. It was a glorious Indian summer day and I parked my car about a mile or so away from the church on a small neighbor side street because 7 Mile Road was closed--(I know you only know 8 Mile, but we have lots of mile roads in Detroit.)

Anyway, I walked to the end of the line- which was about 1/2 mile long by the time I arrived and found myself next to a tiny, well dressed, elderly, light-skinned American American woman, using a cane. We struck up a conversation and I learned that she was 85-years old and had been born in Kentucky, but raised in Michigan. Since it was 7:30 a.m. and the funeral was to begin at 11:00 a.m., we faced a long time in line together--and the possibility of never getting in at all.

I told her I was a teacher and had a strong interest in American history--particularly of the civil rights era --since I was tangentially aware of it as a child and became more outraged by injustice as a teenager. I told her of my dual upbringing--born in the south, raised in the north--school year in the north--summers in Mississippi. I asked her to tell me about her life--as much as she wanted to. It was fascinating to hear her own version of the Rosa Parks' incident--she was 19 years old, taking the bus from Wayne State when she was asked to stand and move to the back. She reported that she had resisted only briefly. But it was 10 years before Rosa Parks! I reminded her that Rosa Parks had the backing of SCLC and was much older than she had been.

As we talked, the few people within earshot began to listen intently to our conversation. She was quiet, well-spoken and warm, and I gently prodded and asked more and more questions, pushing for more details. She told me of how she marched in Detroit with Dr. King and of problems she had as the only black dietician in her class at Wayne State. She had attended a private school in Kentucky that was run by northern white women who believed in the education of young black women...Reminiscent of Zora Neale Hurston's experiences. One of the people in the crowd asked where we "stayed"--thinking we were together. It was only then that I realized that she and I were really about the same "shade." I never asked her, but I wondered if she had ever been about to "pass."

I told her of some of my experiences and how proud I was that many of my former students, all African American women, were in college or working professional jobs. I didn't tell her how many were pregnant and I failed to mention the one who had been fatally shot while at an after- hours club. I figured she'd already had 85 years of bad news.

Finally, just before being allowed to enter the church, I asked to know her name and gave her mine. We shook hands and found ourselves nearly the last two people allowed inside. I had to keep up with her as she wove her way through the enormous corridors--she had been in Greater Grace before--and she led me to the side chapel where an enormous screen had been set up. As we entered, the service was beginning and she burst into song--with a voice as strong and pure as I had ever heard! She knew all of the scriptural readings by heart, too.

Together, we sat for the next 5 hours listening to some of the most moving and powerful speakers this country has to offer--people who can move others to tears, laughter, and shame--all with words! Starting with former President Bill Clinton, who had to leave early, and moving to Rev. Al Sharpton who was unbelievably followed by Minister Louis Farrakhan, and Barak Obama, and so many others, one after another, they seemed to be able to lift the crowd to higher and higher ground. To see all of these people at once--together-- was unbelievable. My own little Rosa Parks and I clapped together, bowed our heads together and laughed together, too.

As I left, I thanked her for spending the day with me--I don't know what compelled me to go to that funeral, but meeting this woman was just what I needed--.

Rosa Parks Service

2005-11-01T20:18:00.000-05:00

I'm going to try to get into Greater Grace tomorrow for Rosa Parks service--somehow the civil rights movement has framed and embraced my life. I was born in the south and raised in the north--but my grandmother's Mississippi farm was very near the river where the three civil rights workers were found--and although I don't have clear memories, I was very aware of the "race problem" as I was growing up. Barefoot black kids came into my grandmother's grocery store during the summers I spent there.

It upset me that America was mired in hypocracy--and ultimately, my most important experiences were involved with teaching in this city. I gravitated to this challenge. Most of my students are African American and I'm very interested in how they view the world. I'm also aware of how I can help them negotiate college if only they'll believe in themselves. I wrote them all emails today saying we needed to work harder together. Detroit faces a mayoral election this next week--and it's all about trust.

Imperial Democracy

2005-10-21T08:38:00.000-04:00

If you haven't met Arundhati Roy, you need to. . .she says it better than anybody. http://www.chitram.org/mallu/ar.htm

A Trip to the Fabric Store

2005-10-20T17:06:00.000-04:00

I had almost an hour to kill between a class and a haircut, so I ducked into a really nice fabric store just to look. What washed over me was the realization that I had mostly done the fabric store thing with my mother when I was a too-tall teenager and the 1960's style skirts were really short. That meant I could not buy much off the rack, so my mother used to make my clothes. We would pour over the pattern books and then the creativity began. She was such a good sport! I'll never forget the pink paisley jump suit, the royal purple Yves St. Laurent maxi coat (down to the ground!) and a wonderful three piece donegal tweed suit--mini-skirt, waistcoat and cuffed pants! And the Mary Quant dresses--psychedelic patterns and all. What I wouldn't give to have those clothes now to give to my daughter--who could actually wear them. But 40 years later and too many moves have pared down my collection.

A friendly saleswoman asked if I needed help and I started to launch into a nostalgic reminiscence--but it suprisingly caught in my throat. I wasn't nearly appreciative enough to my mother, so I think I'll call her tomorrow and tell her.

Fall on Campus

2005-10-17T00:05:00.000-04:00

If you ever want to feel young and frisky again, just take a walk in the fall across a Midwestern college campus. Strolling among the students, cutting between the Engineering Building and a funky diner, and warming in the autumnal sun--there is no better elixer. But the students appear tired, and they seem uncommonly burdened with their backpacks--distracted by the cell phones glued to their ears. I feel a little silly carrying my 30-year old leather satchel--which actually used to be diaper bag--and breathing in the cool air while admiring the architectural details of the oldest building on campus. They have no idea where they are in the scheme of things, I think. They have no idea how absolutely precious this time is. They have no idea...

Let's Hear it for the Boys!

2005-10-12T08:44:00.000-04:00

After 7 years of teaching girls exclusively, I'm finding my young male students to be surprisingly well mannered and cooperative. I'm not sure what I expected--maybe hands on hips, eyes rolling--I got used to being challenged, almost comically so, by my young female students. Now, all I have to do is pat my head and these young men remove their hats; I tug on my ear, and they speak up so I can hear. If I put a finger to my lips, they stop the chatter. If I chide them for being tardy, they apologize! They willingly revise poorly edited papers--and eagerly listen to my advice.

Perhaps we've had an alien invasion here in Detroit--or just a lot of young men raised by high spirited, strong-talking women have entered college. I wish the images of these young men were as prominent in the media as those of the foul-mouthed thugs they listen to on their I-pods. They are learning to read and write at a college level and hopefully to dream the dreams that will take their lives in new directions.

Trust the Process

2005-10-05T09:32:00.000-04:00

As a writing teacher, I often tell my students to just "trust the process." Whenever I assign a challenging essay, they trip over themselves with trivial questions which reveal their fears as well as their intense preoccupation with the end result, and of course, grades. I want them, instead, to immerse themselves in the joy of inquiry and the exhilaration of creative work. I want them to discover their voices. . . they want to know when it will all be over. "Am I done, yet?" When I sit down every day to write this blog, I don't know what will happen. Some days, I'm burning with an issue that has gotten under my skin, and other days I simply agree to discipline myself. I try to "trust the process." Some days the words flow so fast that my fingers can't keep up and other days, each line is a struggle. I guess I should be teaching them to love the struggle.

Go to Operation Eden

2005-10-04T08:57:00.000-04:00

I was sent a link to http://operationeden.blogspot.com/ and it is amazing. The photography is outstanding and the writing is moving, too.

Did You Get the Message????

2005-10-01T14:49:00.000-04:00

I went to the funeral of a former student today in a very modest storefront church on the east side of Detroit--a neighborhood that needs more than God and gospel. The atmosphere was so different than at white folks funerals--kids ran around in t-shirts emblazoned with the picture of the deceased on the front and the music, save the lyrics, would have been great to dance to. People got up and spoke as the spirit moved them and told tales about Katrina, and there was laughter and poetry and tears. I saw many of my former students, grown up, some with babies in arms. As we wandered outside, I hugged them each and said, "Did you get the message?" They looked at me curiously. "What message?"

Katrina was shot because she was in an after hours club--a place she had no business being with too many desperate people with nothing to lose. This community just accepts that violence and early deaths are a natural part of life. But we failed her--we all failed to pull hard enough to jerk her back from the brink. I saw too much celebration today and not enough anger. . .

Brownie's Revenge

2005-09-28T11:25:00.000-04:00

It's clear Michael Brown, former FEMA director and expert in Arabian horses, has adopted some of the Bush administration's attitudes about responsibility. Last week, during the hearings about Katrina, he was diffident, hostile and unrepentant, shifting blame while claiming to not be pointing fingers. His only error?? Not realizing how dumb everyone else was! Since this attitude has worked before for the Republicans, I'm sure he was well coached in standing up to the cross examination. We saw this again yesterday with Tom Delay. Is there some secret school they all go to to learn how to be simultaneously hypocritical and morally outraged? The Rush Limbaugh Academy of Conservatism? I long for the days when the president was only hiding a couple of blow jobs and an intelligent and ambitious wife.

A Million Readers?

2005-09-28T09:16:00.000-04:00

I just read that a blogger from a local suburb enjoys so many hits on his blog that he's going to make his entire living off of it. He used to teach. That says it all! His blog concerns the antics of such superstars as Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, et. al. People are so caught up in the vicarious thrill of the lives of super skinny airheads, that a former teacher can retire. Perhaps if I launched a Nicole Richie for President website, I could pay my heating bill this winter.

What's Goin' On?

2005-09-27T12:46:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend, I heard a story on the local TV news about a shooting at an after-hours club on the east side of the city. During an argument, someone pulled out an AK-47. The hair on the back of neck stood up, and an involuntary shiver went down my spine when the announcer said a 21-year old young woman had been fatally wounded. I thought to myself, "she could be one of my students."

The next day, I received an email confirming that, indeed, a former student of mine had been shot and died subsequently at a local hospital. I wish I could say that I was shocked and surprised by this, but I was not. She was a smart girl who made really stupid decisions.

She graduated in 2002, I believe, but at any other school, she would have dropped out or been kicked out first. Our little school embraced her quirky sense of humor, her wild "coming apart at the seams" appearance; and we all recognized that underneath the "street-wise" veneer lay a certain innate and gentle intelligence. When she came to class, she could perform like any top student--she was engaged; nothing was too difficult for her, and she asked the right questions. At other times, she slept in the back, came late or didn't come to class at all.

She leaves a 10-month old son--I don't know about the father--but I can guess. What becomes of a baby whose mother is shot and killed in this way? I don't need much imagination, knowing what I know of his mother's life.

Someday in the future, during an after-hours party fueled by drugs and booze and attended by thugs with street names like "D-Man" and "Double C,"an AK-47 will appear. Here we go again.

Back That Thang Up

2005-09-22T16:32:00.000-04:00

We went to a wonderful wedding celebration just last weekend, and it was a joy to participate in an event that is such a damn leap of faith! Just when I think we're at the gates of hell climbing out of our collective handbasket, someone or something reminds me that life just goes on. People meet, fall in love, believe it will be forever, and decide to celebrate in grand style. The church was breathtaking--a hexagonal cathedral in perhaps the worst part of Detroit--but just the right place. The bride looked like Grace Kelly and my daughter, the rogue bridesmaid, wore a stunning black Vera Wang gown and cleared the dance floor with her handsome escort. When they announced the hustle, I was proud to hear her say--"don't worry, watch my Mom, she knows how to do it." Those years of teaching in the city paid off when it came to shaking that money maker.

Refugees from Third World USA

2005-09-11T16:33:00.000-04:00

Someone in the media mistakenly called the evacuees from Hurricane Katrina "refugees," and they were very quickly reprimanded by the language police. But after some consideration, I've determined that many of these folks are indeed refugees--from third world USA--a place many other, more successful Americans, have not had much contact with before this tragic event.

The human and material costs emerging here are astronomical--and should remind us how expensive it is to ignore the problems of poverty and discrimination in our country. If a baby is unlucky enough to be born into a poor family in this century, he can expect to live in unsafe housing, to be exposed to all manner of environmental pollutants, to enjoy little if any medical attention, let alone basic coverage, and then to receive a substandard education. He can also be expected to be blamed for all of this once he's old enough.

America needs to wake up -- we can and should be a better country. Authentic patriotism stems from the unshakable belief that we can and shall live up to all our ideals and that they will be made manifest in our citizens and our communities. (cue John Phillip Souza!)

Compassionate Conservatives on Vacation or Give a Man a Fish???

2005-09-09T20:52:00.000-04:00

What can I say that hasn't already been said?

Read It and Weep!

2005-09-09T12:16:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, after a reading class I teach at a local university, I found one of my newest students waiting for me in the parking lot. She asked if I could help her find a way to teach a 16-year-old high school boy how to read. I was almost speechless! Apparently, he found out she was going to college, even though she had scored so low on reading that my course is required. He revealed to her that he does not know how to read and asked for her help. Indicating that she is the first person he has told, he said he was very embarrassed and didn't want any of his friends to know.

I had no idea what to tell her! Local literacy programs exist for adults, but this student is surrounded by teachers -- they just don't know his secret. I told her to give me a week to do a little checking around, but meanwhile, I suggested, "tell him that if he's fooled everyone around him, he must not be too stupid!"

After teaching English here for so long, it is difficult for me to imagine how a teacher couldn't know if one of his or her students could not read. Shameful! Yet, I know how impossible it can be to manage six classes a day of forty kids each, day after day. The cracks are too big--and we are often too tired to keep putting our fingers in the dike.

I'm going to try to find out if there are materials she could use to help him. Maybe someday, she'll look back and tell the story of how she decided to become a teacher. Wouldn't that be something?

"Storms Don't Kill People--Public Policy Kills People!"

2005-09-07T09:04:00.000-04:00

It's interesting that the very same politicians who offer "personal responsibility" as the answer to all societal problems are spinning around this issue and trying to avoid the "blame game." Well, the last time I checked, the game was over and New Orleans lost, and there are bodies lying bloated on the field.

So, I'm not going to "blame" anyone--I'll just say that "Storms Don't Kill People--Public Policy Kills People!" Anyone want to buy a t-shirt?

Katrina, as a natural disaster, is being blamed for all the devastation, but it looks like much of her destruction could have been mitigated if public policy had been informed by unbiased scientific analysis (meaning not forced into shape by corporate and self-interest) . Two larger issues loom in the background here beneath all the spinning--environmental policy, specifically wetlands) and federal funding of critical infrastructure projects to address homeland security issues.

Let's see if the media chooses to examine those issues rather than the compelling and emotional family reunions. I'm guessing a three-hour special on the wetlands is NOT in the works at CNN right now.

Masters of War

2005-09-04T10:30:00.000-04:00

Bob Dylan's lyrics from the 1960's are more relevant today than ever--but so what? While searching for an original way to engage my students in the task of raising their reading comprehension scores to the college level, I did a lyric search and found songs from Tupac and Kayne West. I also copied lyrics from Sinatra's Birth of the Blues and, of course, the lyrics from Masters of War. Profound ideas come a wide variety of packages--diverse voices converge into uncomfortable truths. "Kept my history of mystery but now I see/The American Dream wasn't meant for me." To the Masters of War Dylan says: "You fasten the triggers/For the others to fire/Then you set back and watch/When the death count gets higher/You hide in your mansion/As young people's blood/Flows out of their bodies/And is buried in the mud."

In the wake of Katrina, I hope we can all reexamine the sometimes empty promises of our democracy and begin the address the dangerous, widening gap between rich and poor in our country. The citizens of New Orleans reverted to "looting" because they had nothing to lose! I don't make false distinctions between "good" and "bad" looting--(oh how the inadequacies of moral absolutism are revealed in the face of such a staggering disaster!) A VCR or microwave? "Oh, how decadent and opportunistic!" Well, anything that can be turned into cash is fair game when you are trying to survive.

I can't get this disturbing dream out of my head--I'm in a lifeboat that is sinking and I am given orders to make sure no one else boards--We solemnly peel off the fingers of the drowning and release their bodies into the vast black water surrounding us.

Our Collective Conscience

2005-09-03T15:34:00.000-04:00

When I look at the images of the suffering, death and complete devastation of hurricane Katrina, I'm compelled to ask what role, if any, public policy played in the massive suffering of New Orleans victims. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots from energy policy which favors global corporations while ignoring global warming and the need to protect wetlands, foreign policy driven by the "need" to control the natural resources of others, federal budget deficits driven by an ill-conceived war and a huge tax give away. Democracy's got no clothes!

What is the role of the government? Fox News pundit, Bill O'Reilly is already spinning the ..."see what happens when you trust the government...?" as if citizens have no right to expect anything from their government. Compassionate conservatism, indeed! We should be better than that. In America, our government should be our collective conscience. The federal budget should reflect our concern with equality and social justice--and not simply pork barrel projects designed to keep the powerful in power. We could be the greatest country on earth if we could stop the flag-waving and the posing and get down to the business of building a better society. But the people in power "hate" government--they want to privitize everything--that way you can pick and choose who you think is really "worthy" of your charity--and write it all off while you're at it.

How do you like smaller government, now?

2005-09-01T18:07:00.000-04:00

Since our government has been taken over by those who "hate" government and want it to shrink, we now see a complete erosion of any commitment to infrastructure, community or the public good. The rich live in gated communities with private security forces, private pools, privatized power (generators), bottled water and endless food supplies, while the poor are floating on broken doors down the sewered streets of New Orleans. Why? Follow the money . . . money that should have been spent shoring up the levees. Who cut it off and why? Just guess!

It is clear that many of our leaders can't imagine people without the resources to evacuate. Where have they been? For many of the homeless and poor people who survive Katrina, this storm could actually be the best thing that ever happened to them. They might actually be able to gain some ground. As long as they slept in alleys and pushed shopping carts, no one cared.

The outpouring of sympathy for the "suddenly" impoverished always confuses me. When people lose everything all at once, we turn on the cameras and can't get enough of the images of suffering. However, when people are regularly victimized by systemic poverty, we quickly look away and change the subject.

I hope people begin to realize that it is a priviledge to be able to ignore politics--it means you have the resources to sheild yourself from injustice. Maybe $5.00 a gallon gas will wake you up.

Through a Teacher's Eyes

2005-08-29T19:59:00.000-04:00

I became a teacher because I had a teacher--a really great teacher! She came along at exactly the time that I had no idea who or what I was to become, and a nasty high school environment had managed to rebuff my edginess and my originality. She celebrated me! She got me! In her eyes, I was beautiful, not awkward, not too tall, and not too red-haired and freckled. I was brilliant, even though my grade point average reported nothing to write home about...and I wasn't in the Latin IV class, or in Honors English Literature with all the girls who were Eastern girl school bound. She appreciated my creativity and my iconoclastic humor, and in doing so, she persuaded me to see myself in a light that was certainly more positive.

Years later, one of my best and most-loved students spoke at the graduation exercises at the high school where I had been teaching for seven years. She said that the main thing about me, as a teacher, was that I helped students to see themselves not as they were, but as they could be. I helped them see themselves through my eyes--my adoring eyes. Jayne was right--I did adore them...they were emotionally open, sassy, opinionated, brilliant, silly, serious, faithful and true. And they needed me to love them. And I did. And I do.

2005-08-26T17:49:00.000-04:00

Wolverine Poem

2005-08-26T05:42:00.000-04:00

Still we see our brittle truths
Of conflict, fear and power
All across our land—and
The truths of possibility

Imagine glass and concrete
City landscapes—
Each rough line prolonging itself
Straight off into the gray horizon’s edge

Or a small log cabin tucked beside the
Sturgeon River—its twisting song
Rolls through clinging cedars and
Vigilant pines—spilling its coppered water turmoil
Into the mirrored blue of Burt Lake

When the quieted village seems asleep
Heavy—full of forgotten songs and dull dances,
Poems are read aloud to the stars
An offering by a woman who came again
To learn how to live
Whispering the truths of her own possibility.

Evangelical Christian Terrorists

2005-08-25T08:54:00.000-04:00

Pat Robertson finally gets it! After years of publicly denying any empathy for terrorists, he stepped into a giant pile of hypocrisy. He's so frustrated with Chavez that he wants him "taken out!" Gee--that's real Christian of him. If only he were willing to strap on a few sticks of dynamite and blow himself up in front of the Venezuelan embassy...

Mad Hot Ballroom--or All We Need is Dance Lessons

2005-08-24T14:00:00.000-04:00

I saw the acclaimed documentary film Mad Hot Ballroom this weekend and I loved it--who couldn't love those adorable little ethnically diverse kids and their wonderful teachers? But something in the back of my brain kept nagging at me--and after a while, I began to see that this kind of story, as uplifting (not my word) as it is, masks the real problems. It says to us: look how easily we can solve the problems of poverty, drug abuse and single or absentee parents! It matters not that our so-called "safety net" has holes big enough to drive a M-1 tank through; and the bottom rungs of the ladder to the American Dream have been cleverly sawed off by the Bush Administration's tax gifts to the wealthy. Not to worry! A concentrated series of dance lessons and a city-wide competition and it all goes away! This documentary, for all it's hopeful moments, fails to examine the systemic stranglehold of poverty and the third rate school systems that our urban areas have to tolerate because we refuse to examine the unjust method of funding through property tax. I noted this as I read about my own suburban high school adding a new swimming pool this summer while the roofs of Detroit's school leak onto 25-year-old desks. The movie I want to see would follow these same dancing kids through high school. I don't imagine my Republican friends would recommend such a movie so enthusiastically. Don't get me started.

We the People

2005-08-05T18:12:00.000-04:00

What Was She Wearing??

2005-08-05T17:57:00.000-04:00

The first question a right-wing conservative will ask when told about a rape on a deserted street, late at night is, "What the hell was she doing there at that time?" Moreover, if the woman was wearing a mini-skirt and a thong, she must have been "asking for it." Yet, these same folks become apoplectic if anyone even hints that the US might possibly be doing something (oh, I don't know...occupying their country???) to provoke terrorism. They refuse to examine the question at all and will persistently overtalk anyone who wonders aloud about the wisdom of our current situation.

As a Peace Movement veteran, I have been spit at, shouted at, called names, threatened, and nearly run over for suggesting that peaceful solutions can be found for all problems, big and small, domestic as well as global. Okay, so I give up. The next right-winger who so much as raises an eyebrow at me risks a massive head injury. Are you happy now?

Pretty Disturbing????

2005-08-04T14:26:00.000-04:00

Just south of the Baghdad airport, a bomb exploded recently, flipping the 25-ton amphibious assault vehicle which was transporting soldiers at the time. "'This was a catastrophic event,' said Sgt. Jason Knapp, an Air Force bomb technician who arrived at the scene of the multiple attacks the next morning. He found a foot from one of the American soldiers in the shallow water of a nearby canal. 'It was pretty disturbing," he said." Pretty disturbing????

When do we begin to understand that traditional military solutions will not work in the post-modern arena? When do Americans begin to listen to leaders who speak the truth about this atrocity instead of the pre-programmed talking points meant to reinforce the distortions and lies in which our current administration has invested so heavily? When do we finally realize that this war is not about anybody's freedom, our or theirs--it is about access to natural resources, both oil and water, and the building of permanent military bases to secure these resources for the use of our global corporate robber barons. And Americans have been manipulated by fear into supporting it.

As a resident of a city struggling to maintain its fragile and aging infrastructure in the face of capital flight and unrestricted sprawl, I'm wondering if an Al Queda training camp, just south of 8 Mile Road, might be a better strategy than all the swearing, wishing and hoping we do around here. Either that, or a new mayor.

I think I'll go lay or lie down...

2005-08-02T17:09:00.000-04:00

Whenever I have a stack of papers to grade, a pile of laundry, a long list of gardening chores, a room to paint, or a sink full of pantyhose, I look for something else to do. Blogging may be the answer. Or not. If this, too, becomes work, I'm not sure I want to try to do it every day. Then again, I always tell my students to respect the process and trust the process. So, respect and trust, it is. I've not been successful at exercising daily, so maybe writing might work--not as a way to lose weight--but as a way to keep from talking to myself. The older I get, the more I enjoy myself as a conversational companion--so agreeable, so insightful, so funny! I really get me! So I think as bloggers, we simply want others to get us--it is a way of sharing that offers few, if any risks. And, its either a great way to procrastinate, or another task to put off. I think I'll go rest now.