For several years, I taught a diversity class which met one evening a week--for 3 hours! We discussed race, gender, poverty, religion, the handicapped, sexual orientation--any issue of diversity was open for discussion.
Students often began the class disliking me for the statement I made the first evening: "Any person is a racist unless he/she is actively working toward a solution." Definitely not the most positive way to begin a discussion, but it did provoke response--usually negative, and most often at me. Since I included myself, with examples, in the explanation, I decided I'd work with the students' responses.
One of the assignments was to "e-journal" me with their reflections after each class. I didn't grade the e-journal, but students lost points if I didn't receive one each week. Here was their opportunity to say whatever they wanted--criticize me and/or the ideas presented in class. One quarter, a student would not let go of an extremely defensive attitude. She disagreed with me on every point. Several students fiercely complained about her, and their many e-journal entries centered around wanting her to be more open...or even drop the class. I encouraged them to give her time.
The class included small group discussions--with heavy topics, it's often easier to enlarge comfort levels by offering opportunities for discussion with fewer participants. With comfort established, these can lead to examination of the issues in larger groups.
While I loved witnessing my students learn to think critically, the most heart-warming learning experience came the last night before the final. I asked the students to put their desks in a circle. The assignment was to choose one person in the circle and tell that individual something you like about them, or if you don't know the person, ask something you'd like to know. What surprised me most is that with each quarter I repeated the experiment, I realized that most every student in the circle was approached with a question or comment. Inclusiveness was evident.
We also shared ethnic foods, history that spoke of tragedies no one wanted repeated, and laws of discrimination in more recent times. We role played and discussed feelings toward the characters--abusers, victims, cultural minorities, females, and handicapped individuals.
One evening while discussing women's issues, a student asked me--Mary, are you a feminist? My response was--I
have no "card" if that's what you mean. When I was a young mother, the
feminist movement was active. I didn't participate. But I am a
feminist. A level of anxiety appeared on his face, and then he asked: What does feminism mean to you? I responded--It's about justice. Whether for a man, a woman, a child, an animal or the earth. It's just about justice. What most surprised me was that the idea of justice was addressed in every discussion that evening. They were getting it!
As the quarter wore on each time I taught this class, I saw more unification within the group. Students came together not because they always agreed with one another, but because they understood they could respect, even like people with whom they disagreed. And the young woman mentioned earlier who so vehemently objected to any course content presented? The last e-journal I received from her was after a conversation with
her father. Her e-journal: "Mary, I see where I get my negative attitudes. I told my father about our class discussions, and as I listened to his response, I knew
how I learned to think as I do."
How would your life be different if....You stopped making negative judgmental assumptions about people you encounter? Let today be the day...You look for the good in everyone you meet and respect their journey. ---Steve Marabol, Life, the Truth, and Being Free
Monday, September 30, 2013
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Best Friends -- On That Forever List
Two friends I met in high school, and remain close to today, I met in PE class. We were sophomores, newly decked out in royal blue PE uniforms, standing in line for roll call. I felt nervous, and probably the only one who had never worn a PE uniform--I'd come from a very small town in the hills of Ohio; from a class of 36, to Medford, OR and a class of nearly 500 students! Our last names came close in the alphabet, so as we stood together, we introduced ourselves. Something clicked, or cliqued....and the mold was set.
I hated PE--I'm not competitive, don't care who wins, rather not play in the first place, thank you very much. When dividing up teams, players took one look at me and then freely offered me to the other team. I didn't fool anyone. Each year we had 3 weeks of swimming. My sophomore year, our instructor was a first-time teacher. The first day of swimming, I told her I was having my period. I didn't get in the water the whole three weeks!
Elaine was pretty much in the same boat. She didn't inherit any "sports" genes either. Even her mother thought her stride to be ungainly. When she registered Elaine for dance classes, she told the instructor, "Please, just teach her to walk."
Donna on the other hand was good at sports. Raised in a large family, she often participated in all kinds of games that enabled her skills to improve. And she cared.... She wanted to do well; whereas, Elaine and I couldn't have cared less.
The three of us went to movies--once a police officer pulled two whole rows of kids into the back of the theater to scold us for being too noisy. Elaine stood with hands on hips in front of him just glaring. If she hadn't looked so hilarious--and non-threatening--we would probably have all been arrested.
We double-dated, had slumber parties, romped around the halls--always one step from confrontation with a hall monitor for our silliness, noisiness, or goofiness.
As often happened in those days, we married our high school sweethearts.
Elaine and Donna and I have remained friends for 50+ years. Throughout all that time we've each had diverse experiences, but remain connected. After many years absence on my part, we once again reside in the same town. Sometimes I wish we had more everyday kinds of activities in common, yet we are there for one another when any of us are in need. Major events in my life have always been accompanied by these friends.
I've come to find great satisfaction in thinking of them as sisters--since I have none. Sisters' lives are rarely shared on a day-to-day basis. Elaine and Donna and I will sometimes be out of touch for days or weeks, but when the phone rings and call waiting shows either of their names, the connection is instant.
These friends fill that part of my heart that's set aside for family--and as we get older, that space becomes more precious.
I hated PE--I'm not competitive, don't care who wins, rather not play in the first place, thank you very much. When dividing up teams, players took one look at me and then freely offered me to the other team. I didn't fool anyone. Each year we had 3 weeks of swimming. My sophomore year, our instructor was a first-time teacher. The first day of swimming, I told her I was having my period. I didn't get in the water the whole three weeks!
Elaine was pretty much in the same boat. She didn't inherit any "sports" genes either. Even her mother thought her stride to be ungainly. When she registered Elaine for dance classes, she told the instructor, "Please, just teach her to walk."
Donna on the other hand was good at sports. Raised in a large family, she often participated in all kinds of games that enabled her skills to improve. And she cared.... She wanted to do well; whereas, Elaine and I couldn't have cared less.
The three of us went to movies--once a police officer pulled two whole rows of kids into the back of the theater to scold us for being too noisy. Elaine stood with hands on hips in front of him just glaring. If she hadn't looked so hilarious--and non-threatening--we would probably have all been arrested.
We double-dated, had slumber parties, romped around the halls--always one step from confrontation with a hall monitor for our silliness, noisiness, or goofiness.
As often happened in those days, we married our high school sweethearts.
Elaine and Donna and I have remained friends for 50+ years. Throughout all that time we've each had diverse experiences, but remain connected. After many years absence on my part, we once again reside in the same town. Sometimes I wish we had more everyday kinds of activities in common, yet we are there for one another when any of us are in need. Major events in my life have always been accompanied by these friends.
I've come to find great satisfaction in thinking of them as sisters--since I have none. Sisters' lives are rarely shared on a day-to-day basis. Elaine and Donna and I will sometimes be out of touch for days or weeks, but when the phone rings and call waiting shows either of their names, the connection is instant.
These friends fill that part of my heart that's set aside for family--and as we get older, that space becomes more precious.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Memory Malfunction for a Smiling Audience
When one reaches my age there is the natural expectation of memory malfunction--Where are my keys? What is the name of that book? Who is that gorgeous actor who played--you know that guy...he was a brother to Julia Roberts in...what is the name of that movie? WHY did I go into this room? And it goes on--most often continuing on a downhill slide.
Today I was thinking about my mother. Our family spent years listening to her tell stories about her past--stories that we felt certain never took place--or at least not the way she described it since she'd told another account a few weeks previously with but a few of the same facts.
Mother loved an audience and because her main reading sources centered around People magazine, her stories weren't deeply cerebral. And, to be honest, I sometimes wished for more.
Recently I read Dreams in the Time of War by Ngugi wa Thiong'o--his childhood memoir. He talks excitedly about the storytellers among his extended Kenyan family. I thought of Mother and her stories and wondered if perhaps I put too many of my expectations around her memories. I wanted one thing--she gave something else.
We are all storytellers of a sort. Our stories are our perception--our truth of whatever we speak, i.e. the accident at the intersection as viewed by observers on each of the four corners. Perhaps Mother's stories weren't so much about memory malfunction, but about seeing the smiles from her listeners.
Mother has now been gone nearly 1 1/2 years, and yesterday as I drove in the neighborhood where she last lived, I thought of her final months. I wish she could have told stories then. But I only recall her weakness, leaning heavily on one side, unable to recall the simplest detail of her day.
Perhaps that's why I want to write down my stories. So at best I can read them when that time of memory malfunction gives my recollections tones that overshadow the original. I grin as I remember that I also love seeing the smiles of my listeners....perhaps there is some of Mother's storytelling in me after all.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Sometimes You Get More Than You Bargained For....
About 40 minutes ago my doorbell rang. When I answered, a man carrying a bucket and rags, asked if he could wash my windows outside. Did he actually notice from the sidewalk that it has been months--OK, years since that surface has been cleaned? We talked about cost, etc. for a couple of minutes and then I agreed that he could give my winter months greater light with a quick swipe of his squeegee. I really dislike washing windows!
However, it seems I'm getting more than I agreed to pay for. You see, either I'm hearing voices OR this man is speaking to himself--when the talking first became apparent, I checked to see if someone had joined him. He appears to be alone. Is he a lonely man, or someone the DSM will find a nitch for?
I am completely sympathetic with mental illness--come on, let's be honest, most of us are aware of family members whose names are mentioned only during the holidays and after a few drinks. The gentleman seems very nice, and quite friendly--whether conversing with me or the invisible friend. And he says he loves the Lord--which could be very valid or cause, again, for a DSM diagnosis.
It appears he doesn't have a car--does this mean he's lost his license? Too many DUIs? Delusions?
I'm looking out at my patio as he washes, with his guarantee there will be no streaks. It looks like the squeegee works well.
Gilly has been on alert status since the man entered our yard. I did suggest that my dog is very protective of me--as Gilly stood wagging his tail delighted that he had company. As usual, Gilly's barks speak more to his desire for attention than my need for protection.
Hmmm...I just heard the man use the F*** word. Guess the Lord doesn't have him speaking in heavenly tongues as yet.
Interesting observation: I'm seeing some OCD tendencies at work. He's washing my patio window for the third time. Now that's the one window that gets fairly regular attention. Does this mean I am now observing a diagnosably delusional, OCD client I've just invited into my yard?
A couple of minutes ago I heard his phone ring. He answered and it appeared that the conversation went on and on. Then I realized the two-way chat may have returned to the one-way. Should I interrupt?
But you know, the windows are clean! No streaks! I think I'll chalk this up to an amusing and worthwhile experience!
However, it seems I'm getting more than I agreed to pay for. You see, either I'm hearing voices OR this man is speaking to himself--when the talking first became apparent, I checked to see if someone had joined him. He appears to be alone. Is he a lonely man, or someone the DSM will find a nitch for?
I am completely sympathetic with mental illness--come on, let's be honest, most of us are aware of family members whose names are mentioned only during the holidays and after a few drinks. The gentleman seems very nice, and quite friendly--whether conversing with me or the invisible friend. And he says he loves the Lord--which could be very valid or cause, again, for a DSM diagnosis.
It appears he doesn't have a car--does this mean he's lost his license? Too many DUIs? Delusions?
I'm looking out at my patio as he washes, with his guarantee there will be no streaks. It looks like the squeegee works well.
Gilly has been on alert status since the man entered our yard. I did suggest that my dog is very protective of me--as Gilly stood wagging his tail delighted that he had company. As usual, Gilly's barks speak more to his desire for attention than my need for protection.
Hmmm...I just heard the man use the F*** word. Guess the Lord doesn't have him speaking in heavenly tongues as yet.
Interesting observation: I'm seeing some OCD tendencies at work. He's washing my patio window for the third time. Now that's the one window that gets fairly regular attention. Does this mean I am now observing a diagnosably delusional, OCD client I've just invited into my yard?
A couple of minutes ago I heard his phone ring. He answered and it appeared that the conversation went on and on. Then I realized the two-way chat may have returned to the one-way. Should I interrupt?
But you know, the windows are clean! No streaks! I think I'll chalk this up to an amusing and worthwhile experience!
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Discriminating Reader....or Snob!
My absolute favorite place on a rainy day is a cuddly corner with a book. Perhaps it's the dampness that gives the smell of the paper and binding more savor. However on any warm, sunny day, one will find me on my patio swing running my fingers along the printed page. Do I make my point? I love to read! Books become my friends. As a child, my grandmother would not allow a pencil near while I was reading. Now, old enough to make my own decisions (and mistakes), my friendship and affection is evidenced by my notes and underlinings in most every book on my shelves.
I remember the first chapter book I read: Maida's Little Shop by Inez Haynes Gillmore. After that I experienced the mysteries of Nancy Drew, and the adventures of The Swiss Family Robinson, Anne of Green Gables, The Jungle Books and Alice in Wonderland. From there I transitioned to biographies because my mother enrolled me in a Book-of-the-Month Club--mostly sugar-coated versions of the lives of famous people.
As a teen my preferences changed, but I still remember looking in the windows, crawling into the rooms, sitting at the dinner tables, and riding the horses, mules, elephants and camels in each and every life--real or fictional.
Now as a mature adult, I see I haven't changed all that much. I continue to live the lives of the characters! O, my reading tastes have acquired discrimination--full disclosure here: I am a book snob! I refuse to use the Best Seller List for recommendations since I think it mostly represents the low-level-crap that Americans read. I use my friends, whose recommendations I respect to lead me to new authors and stories.
I read more and more history--the problem with aging is that history books must lean toward antiquity to take in the new and interesting....you know, events I've not actually lived through. Since I've always been a fan of Maslow, I also enjoy taking in ideas related to self-actualization. And I love slice-of-life stories.
A couple of years ago, I found a new author who is now at the top of my list for interesting, beautifully written, and amazing storytelling: Kate Morton. She and her family live in Australia, and her writing takes place there and in England. I've read four of her books: The Secret Keeper, House at Riverton, Distant Hours, and Forgotten Garden. After reading one of her books, a line of anticipators form who excitedly await her next novel. Her books often probe three generations within a family--going back and forth--with the end tying every nook and cranny of detail together.
Another author whose next work I am anxiously awaiting is Shilpi Somaya Gowda. Her first novel--Secret Daughter--is a beautifully written story of a couple in the U.S. who is not able to have a child; and a young child in India who awaits a home. What complicates the tale and warms the heart of the reader is the story of the mother who had to give the daughter up.
Both of these authors offer wonderful insights into cultural practices of now and times gone by. What books have you read recently? What authors do you recommend? Are there any discriminating readers among you? Would love to share ideas!
I remember the first chapter book I read: Maida's Little Shop by Inez Haynes Gillmore. After that I experienced the mysteries of Nancy Drew, and the adventures of The Swiss Family Robinson, Anne of Green Gables, The Jungle Books and Alice in Wonderland. From there I transitioned to biographies because my mother enrolled me in a Book-of-the-Month Club--mostly sugar-coated versions of the lives of famous people.
As a teen my preferences changed, but I still remember looking in the windows, crawling into the rooms, sitting at the dinner tables, and riding the horses, mules, elephants and camels in each and every life--real or fictional.
Now as a mature adult, I see I haven't changed all that much. I continue to live the lives of the characters! O, my reading tastes have acquired discrimination--full disclosure here: I am a book snob! I refuse to use the Best Seller List for recommendations since I think it mostly represents the low-level-crap that Americans read. I use my friends, whose recommendations I respect to lead me to new authors and stories.
I read more and more history--the problem with aging is that history books must lean toward antiquity to take in the new and interesting....you know, events I've not actually lived through. Since I've always been a fan of Maslow, I also enjoy taking in ideas related to self-actualization. And I love slice-of-life stories.
A couple of years ago, I found a new author who is now at the top of my list for interesting, beautifully written, and amazing storytelling: Kate Morton. She and her family live in Australia, and her writing takes place there and in England. I've read four of her books: The Secret Keeper, House at Riverton, Distant Hours, and Forgotten Garden. After reading one of her books, a line of anticipators form who excitedly await her next novel. Her books often probe three generations within a family--going back and forth--with the end tying every nook and cranny of detail together.
Another author whose next work I am anxiously awaiting is Shilpi Somaya Gowda. Her first novel--Secret Daughter--is a beautifully written story of a couple in the U.S. who is not able to have a child; and a young child in India who awaits a home. What complicates the tale and warms the heart of the reader is the story of the mother who had to give the daughter up.
Both of these authors offer wonderful insights into cultural practices of now and times gone by. What books have you read recently? What authors do you recommend? Are there any discriminating readers among you? Would love to share ideas!
Monday, September 16, 2013
Bucket Lists
Last spring I went zip-lining. For many this might sound like an enjoyable experience--or not. But I don't like heights and don't place adventurer as one of my top 10 personality traits. HOWEVER, when friends suggested this as a group activity, I admit it had some appeal--OK, honestly I felt scared spitless! So it was with hesitation I added it to my Bucket List--then spoke as if this activity had been near the top of my list all along.
After a couple of weeks of contemplation, and the encouragement of friends, I joined our group the day of the event--hoping that loud, shrill screams are part of the acceptable protocol of the first mad dash from the hooks or lines or whatever fastens me to the earth.
Upon return from this adventurous feat--after hugs from participating friends, I felt exhilarated and ready to take on any height or depth. I made it through all five zips. And it was great fun! It was wonderful! My Bucket List began to grow--sky diving, para sailing, scuba diving. Good heavens--what was I thinking!! Anything that takes me high above or below water is an automatic, heart-pounding NO! The only real thoughts I've ever had about traumatic death (mine) relate to water activities....
I don't think that age defines when Bucket Lists begin. As a girl, then young married, and on to middle aged career woman, I always had ideas swirling around in some region of my brain that hoped, wished, or dreamed of something in addition to my everyday run-of-the-mill norm. Now I'm more aware of doing-it-while-I-can-activities when I hear my age bracket referred to as "elderly."
So, what's it going to be? Lazing around with a boring book, weeding obsessively because I'm afraid my neighbors might complain, and saying yes when I really want to say no to the next request to _____(fill in the blank)? No, I need more excitement...
Looking seriously at my list I see two destinations: Italy and the San Juan Islands. I've actually been to both places, but now I'm ready for new memories. The trip to Italy will be a bit spendy. How can I work that out...retired, limited income, etc...?
Do you have a Bucket List? Want to start one? Have you always wanted to go someplace--dreamed about it, fantasized about it? Do you have an adventure in mind that seems cost prohibitive? How about a cruise? Can you make it happen? How can money be raised--have a garage sale, take a part-time job, dog sit/dog walk? OR if the impossibilities of this adventure make you feel discouraged, why not choose another item to begin with--a week at the coast, a trip to Disneyland (Yes, it's still one of my favorite destinations!), and make that happen?
Or what about something closer to home? When I first retired and moved to Southern Oregon, I often had ideas for entertaining, but not the accompanying courage to make it happen. Then one December holiday season, I asked my friend, Lori, to help me plan a party. It turned out to be great fun, but more importantly, I felt brave enough to try myself the next time. I've had teas, coffees, and wine and dinner parties, and look forward to more opportunities!
So don't wait to be invited--invite friends over! Provide all drinks and food, or make it potluck. That way no one has the whole burden of cost and work.
What about other items on your Bucket List? Want to find people with like interests? I started what I called Gathering of the Goddesses. We met every other month for a year. Each time I invited the women to bring an item and our discussions centered on that--an object from childhood, holiday memories, favorite books.... No, it didn't continue, but that's not important. The group introduced me to other women. This year my friend, Judy, began a group we call the Creative Crones. I enjoy all these opportunities to get to know women who enjoy many of the things I like and challenge me to gain new experiences.
Try something that will help your Bucket List expand and give your life new adventures. Then let me know what's happening!
After a couple of weeks of contemplation, and the encouragement of friends, I joined our group the day of the event--hoping that loud, shrill screams are part of the acceptable protocol of the first mad dash from the hooks or lines or whatever fastens me to the earth.
Upon return from this adventurous feat--after hugs from participating friends, I felt exhilarated and ready to take on any height or depth. I made it through all five zips. And it was great fun! It was wonderful! My Bucket List began to grow--sky diving, para sailing, scuba diving. Good heavens--what was I thinking!! Anything that takes me high above or below water is an automatic, heart-pounding NO! The only real thoughts I've ever had about traumatic death (mine) relate to water activities....
I don't think that age defines when Bucket Lists begin. As a girl, then young married, and on to middle aged career woman, I always had ideas swirling around in some region of my brain that hoped, wished, or dreamed of something in addition to my everyday run-of-the-mill norm. Now I'm more aware of doing-it-while-I-can-activities when I hear my age bracket referred to as "elderly."
So, what's it going to be? Lazing around with a boring book, weeding obsessively because I'm afraid my neighbors might complain, and saying yes when I really want to say no to the next request to _____(fill in the blank)? No, I need more excitement...
Looking seriously at my list I see two destinations: Italy and the San Juan Islands. I've actually been to both places, but now I'm ready for new memories. The trip to Italy will be a bit spendy. How can I work that out...retired, limited income, etc...?
Do you have a Bucket List? Want to start one? Have you always wanted to go someplace--dreamed about it, fantasized about it? Do you have an adventure in mind that seems cost prohibitive? How about a cruise? Can you make it happen? How can money be raised--have a garage sale, take a part-time job, dog sit/dog walk? OR if the impossibilities of this adventure make you feel discouraged, why not choose another item to begin with--a week at the coast, a trip to Disneyland (Yes, it's still one of my favorite destinations!), and make that happen?
Or what about something closer to home? When I first retired and moved to Southern Oregon, I often had ideas for entertaining, but not the accompanying courage to make it happen. Then one December holiday season, I asked my friend, Lori, to help me plan a party. It turned out to be great fun, but more importantly, I felt brave enough to try myself the next time. I've had teas, coffees, and wine and dinner parties, and look forward to more opportunities!
So don't wait to be invited--invite friends over! Provide all drinks and food, or make it potluck. That way no one has the whole burden of cost and work.
What about other items on your Bucket List? Want to find people with like interests? I started what I called Gathering of the Goddesses. We met every other month for a year. Each time I invited the women to bring an item and our discussions centered on that--an object from childhood, holiday memories, favorite books.... No, it didn't continue, but that's not important. The group introduced me to other women. This year my friend, Judy, began a group we call the Creative Crones. I enjoy all these opportunities to get to know women who enjoy many of the things I like and challenge me to gain new experiences.
Try something that will help your Bucket List expand and give your life new adventures. Then let me know what's happening!
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Happy Birthday, my Friend!
My friend, Kerry, recently moved to Southern Oregon. I've known her nearly 10 years. She is probably one of the most creative and energetic friends I've ever had. This is a woman who has more talents than one individual should be allowed--amazing cook, great entertainer, very computer literate, wonderful storyteller, fantastic hostess, and a very big heart! And I'm being conservative in this evaluation.... What I admire most about Kerry is her courage to live her dream.
When I first met Kerry, she was the office manager in the department I taught. As we got better acquainted she shared her dream of becoming an innkeeper. Since she had already demonstrated all the above mentioned skills for our department, I knew she'd do a great job in this anticipated venture. But with every dream must come the courage to carry it out. Did she have it? Absolutely!
When she left our university, Kerry moved right into the beautiful Lion and the Rose B & B in Portland, OR. This was her training ground because her ultimate dream included moving to Ashland.
Nearly six months ago that happened. Working with the owner of the beautiful Italianate mansion, the attractions for guests at this TripAdvisor rated #1 B & B now includes wine-tasting parties, special gifts for returning guests, a new variety in menus and a beautiful website, plus guests who want to stay in touch with her.
While I'm proud of all Kerry has accomplished in fulfilling her dream--she is also a great friend. One who is kind and loyal; one who is especially fun to be with.
So, Happy Birthday, Kerry!! May we celebrate many more together!
When I first met Kerry, she was the office manager in the department I taught. As we got better acquainted she shared her dream of becoming an innkeeper. Since she had already demonstrated all the above mentioned skills for our department, I knew she'd do a great job in this anticipated venture. But with every dream must come the courage to carry it out. Did she have it? Absolutely!
When she left our university, Kerry moved right into the beautiful Lion and the Rose B & B in Portland, OR. This was her training ground because her ultimate dream included moving to Ashland.
Nearly six months ago that happened. Working with the owner of the beautiful Italianate mansion, the attractions for guests at this TripAdvisor rated #1 B & B now includes wine-tasting parties, special gifts for returning guests, a new variety in menus and a beautiful website, plus guests who want to stay in touch with her.
While I'm proud of all Kerry has accomplished in fulfilling her dream--she is also a great friend. One who is kind and loyal; one who is especially fun to be with.
So, Happy Birthday, Kerry!! May we celebrate many more together!
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Remembering...
The longer one lives, the longer the dates-I'll-never-forget list becomes--weddings, births, deaths, wars, etc. If a few years older, I could probably describe the country's reaction to the bombing of Pearl Harbor--nearly 72 years later. But my first memory of national tragedy is the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. He ran in the first election in which I could vote.
November 22, 1963, I was working at the "old" Medford High School, and as I walked past a secretary's desk she said, "President Kennedy has been shot". Of course no one wants to believe such news, so within minutes many of us huddled around the radio in her office.
For the next several days, the entire world watched the flight back to Washington DC with the president's body, the pictures of Jacqueline Kennedy in her blood-stained suit, the killing of Oswald, and the funeral--always with the desire to wake up and realize this was a dreadful nightmare. Even recalling it all these years later my eyes are moist.
Tragedy with the loss of children is the most unthinkable of all. But we've watched time and again the stories unfold of mentally ill and angry individuals who, for whatever rationale their minds conjured up, took their pain out on the innocent young.
And now today, we memorialize 9-11. And we remember with clarity so precise it only makes the pain greater.
I have heard people suggest that we should forget the Holocaust--it was a long time ago we should get past it. But will any of us forget how we connected with family members and hugged our children when we heard the news of 9-11 or school or mall shootings. While it's true, it is important to get past the shock and grief that leaves us immobile, we must never forget the loss. We build from loss and pain to make a better tomorrow.
May the lessons from these tragedies, and the memorials provided, enable us to see beyond violence--and find peace.
November 22, 1963, I was working at the "old" Medford High School, and as I walked past a secretary's desk she said, "President Kennedy has been shot". Of course no one wants to believe such news, so within minutes many of us huddled around the radio in her office.
For the next several days, the entire world watched the flight back to Washington DC with the president's body, the pictures of Jacqueline Kennedy in her blood-stained suit, the killing of Oswald, and the funeral--always with the desire to wake up and realize this was a dreadful nightmare. Even recalling it all these years later my eyes are moist.
Tragedy with the loss of children is the most unthinkable of all. But we've watched time and again the stories unfold of mentally ill and angry individuals who, for whatever rationale their minds conjured up, took their pain out on the innocent young.
And now today, we memorialize 9-11. And we remember with clarity so precise it only makes the pain greater.
I have heard people suggest that we should forget the Holocaust--it was a long time ago we should get past it. But will any of us forget how we connected with family members and hugged our children when we heard the news of 9-11 or school or mall shootings. While it's true, it is important to get past the shock and grief that leaves us immobile, we must never forget the loss. We build from loss and pain to make a better tomorrow.
May the lessons from these tragedies, and the memorials provided, enable us to see beyond violence--and find peace.
Monday, September 9, 2013
A Blogging Adventure
As I sit attempting to create something close to
literate for my first blog, I see instead a layer of dust on the books,
pictures, and plants that surround me--and I wonder if writing a blog aligns
with my attempts at meditation--with monkey mind taking hold to fly from tree
to tree, or in this case from dust particle to dust particle.
It's like the time I started knitting a sweater and the movie I watched during the process and the engrossing book that took equal attention so held my concentration that the completed yarn project took on the shape and size of something too frightening to invite into one's home. Would a glass of wine help this composing project? As early as it is—I'm not sure it's 5 p.m. anywhere in the world—that may not be a good option. Should I stoop to plagiarizing? I’ve read many good blogs…. Of course not--that brings back too many memories of grading student papers!
So, OK, here I go: I am a mother, grandmother and a retired college professor. I am also fairly computer literate for one of my generation. I have opinions, strong opinions--mostly about the protection and safety of children. I want to do my part in preserving the earth, be there for people who cross my path, and exercise and eat healthfully to enable my body and mind to have the best possible quality—since I’m not sure that taking care of Mom is on either of my daughters’ Bucket Lists.
I love books—though I enjoy my Kindle, I still prefer the touch and smell of paper. I keep track of the names, authors, and a synopsis of each one I read. That may sound a bit OCD, but I prefer keeping a list rather than RE-purchase and get half way through before sensing the story sounds amazingly familiar...
I love children and as a result, am a member of the Citizen's Review Board in the county in Oregon in which I live. I hope that might hint of “giving back” although I would do it anyway since I believe strongly in families and accountability for keeping them safe.
I love exploring new ideas and cultures. I lived four years in Kenya and came back a different person—after displaying some pretty ugly-American traits on a few occasions.
I like to be challenged—well, as long as it’s not too far above or below water.
Well, that’s pretty much me.
It's like the time I started knitting a sweater and the movie I watched during the process and the engrossing book that took equal attention so held my concentration that the completed yarn project took on the shape and size of something too frightening to invite into one's home. Would a glass of wine help this composing project? As early as it is—I'm not sure it's 5 p.m. anywhere in the world—that may not be a good option. Should I stoop to plagiarizing? I’ve read many good blogs…. Of course not--that brings back too many memories of grading student papers!
So, OK, here I go: I am a mother, grandmother and a retired college professor. I am also fairly computer literate for one of my generation. I have opinions, strong opinions--mostly about the protection and safety of children. I want to do my part in preserving the earth, be there for people who cross my path, and exercise and eat healthfully to enable my body and mind to have the best possible quality—since I’m not sure that taking care of Mom is on either of my daughters’ Bucket Lists.
I love books—though I enjoy my Kindle, I still prefer the touch and smell of paper. I keep track of the names, authors, and a synopsis of each one I read. That may sound a bit OCD, but I prefer keeping a list rather than RE-purchase and get half way through before sensing the story sounds amazingly familiar...
I love children and as a result, am a member of the Citizen's Review Board in the county in Oregon in which I live. I hope that might hint of “giving back” although I would do it anyway since I believe strongly in families and accountability for keeping them safe.
I love exploring new ideas and cultures. I lived four years in Kenya and came back a different person—after displaying some pretty ugly-American traits on a few occasions.
I like to be challenged—well, as long as it’s not too far above or below water.
Well, that’s pretty much me.
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