Hey, ya'll, exciting news: One of my cowriters at Group News Blog, Minstrel Boy, had just been a contestant on Jeopardy and will be appearing on the show next week, Wednesday, December 16th (you should check your local listings to verify). I can't wait to see him in action.
You can read what he has to say about it in advance in his post at GNB. Brainy guy, as well as the writer of my favorite literature these days. He also blogs at his own space, Harp and Sword.
Other good news is that GNB has added a new staff writer, DrBopperTHP, to our masthead. He's a longtime favorite of mine from his comments, so I expect the quality to continue increasing over there. Give him a shout out when you get a chance.
Showing posts with label Group News Blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Group News Blog. Show all posts
Friday, December 12, 2008
GROUP NEWS BLOGGER ON JEOPARDY
Friday, September 5, 2008
Crip Ward Tango Post at Group News Blog, Video Here
(Actual Lives at H Street Theater in Washington, DC, June 2004: L-R, Danny Saenz, Franky Ramont, Maggie Jochild, Mike Burns, Laura Griebel, Cindy Massey, Terri Stellar, and Rand Metcalfe)
I've got a new post up at Group News Blog concerning my writing of Crip Ward Tango for Actual Lives.
But just for Meta Watershed readers, I've located a short video online taken by Gene Rodgers which has small excerpts from our/my performance at the 2004 VSA International Arts Conference mentioned in my post. Adam Griebel doing his "Frankenstein" part of Crip Ward Tango is near the end; also included is a small segment of my "Dignity" performance, the text of which can be found here.
Unfortunately, during the opening where we are performing the "Good Cripples' Oath", Gene is narrating and you miss the dialogue. Still, it's a fun view.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
YOUR CHILDREN ARE NOT YOUR CHILDREN
I've got a new post up at Group News Blog, Your Children Are Not Your Children.
As a special treat for readers of this blog only, you can hear the song by Sweet Honey in the Rock which is the title of the post, "On Children", by going to my Box.net page here and downloading or playing.
Friday, August 29, 2008
CHECK OUT MY POST AT GNB
Just a reminder, I'm also a staff writer over at Group News Blog and I have a new post up there today: Noun, Verb, POW.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
NOT AT HOME? CHECK ME AT GNB
(Etta Candy, sidekick to Wonder Woman)
Hey, ya'll, just want to remind you, I'm posting regularly over at Group News Blog, as in this new post Accountability Versus Blame.
Monday, July 21, 2008
BEAKER, BEETHOVEN, AND BLOGGING
Okay, this is simply outright theft from Kat's blog BitchCraft. But I am a Beaker FANATIC, and this clip was new to me. It also struck me as a perfect tribute to the downside of a weekend spent with Netroots Nation bloggers (none of my Group News Blog companions, thank g*d, who were utterly remarkable in their ability to converse on any topic and their equal hunger to listen attentively).
Sunday, June 22, 2008
I'M GOING TO NETROOTS NATION!
Good news/bad news. Mostly good.
I did NOT get a Netroots Nation scholarship, despite receiving 45 votes and being somewhere in the top 10-15 votegetters (from a field of 30 scholarships awarded).
However, the support I received from ya'll simply blew me away. The things you said about me, the folks who turned out to stump for me -- it was jolting and made me take another assessment of myself. All in the most positive way.
And: I'm still going to Netroots Nation.
How? Because Jesse Wendel and the Robinsons (Sara and Evan) have come forward to pay my way. This includes the conference fee, which was offered a reduced rate by Democracy for America (THANKS, DFA!), rental of a power wheelchair for four days, transportation to and from the conference site, and all my meals. It's a done deal. I'm going.
Which means more than I can ever know, much less express. But I'll try, nonetheless.
When I began my own blog, I became interested on a whole other level in what other bloggers were doing. I became a critical consumer of writing, thinking, and strategy as it is presented on the web. I was looking for people who knew how to express themselves without negativity or denial, who researched and made deep connections, who believed in the goodness of humanity and allowed that to come through even when they were reporting on our worst behavior, and who were capable of addressing multiple (all) issues simultaneously. I wanted to read the thoughts of someone who meant to change the world but not from an ego-driven perspective.
Eventually, I found Orcinus and Sara Robinson. Every time I read one of her essays, I felt bells go off inside my head and I wanted to call all my friends, say "You GOTTA hear this". She invariably took on the fear and distortion present in fundamentalism and this country's Right with calm, intelligent, bold clarity. She wrote and thought better than I did. (I don't suffer from false modesty, just to be frank, here.)
Finally, I wrote her a fan letter. She, in her deliberate way, checked me out and passed on the information to her colleague at Group News Blog, Jesse Wendel, who also began checking me out.
All I can say is, thank g*d I didn't throw up a post about how scared I am of alien abduction or Sasquatch. (Just kidding.) (Kinda.)
At any rate, after a while Jesse came after me. See, Jesse is someone who has put in the time to sort through his male conditioning, deciding what makes sense to retain and what is counter to his best interests. He's figured out that being direct and assuming responsibility are admirable human traits, when scraped clean of self-righteousness, gender myths, and power grabs. It's a relief to be around in any form, male or female.
And I, on my part, have put in the time to sort through my working class conditioning, weeding out my fear of exploitation and distrust of my instincts. So, when he came after me, I said "Sure, let's talk." When a powerful equal approaches you and offers to work in tandem, you have everything to gain by saying yes.
I've had nothing but growth and increasing liking since. Don't underestimate liking; at my age, I think it's the most important outrigger of love, along with respect.
So, these folks are building a bridge from me to who knows what. (In an almost literal since: The route from my apartment to the convention site is almost a straight shot down Congress Avenue across the Ann Richards Bridge, as good a symbol as my poet heart could wish for.)
Please send them your thanks, your energy, your attention. Their writing and works are making an untold difference out there, as well as in my life.
And, heartened by this possibility, this turn of events, I've finally taken the step to add a Pay Pal button to my website. I can now accept donations. I'm not a tax-deductible entity, just needy. If you do make a donation, please tell me who you are and let me thank you directly.
Thanks for reading this far. You'll be hearing a lot more from me about this conference in the coming month. Summer is now officially launched, and so am I.
Love, Maggie
Saturday, May 24, 2008
THE RAW STORY LINKED TO MY WHITE NIGHT RIOT POST
Just to let you all know: The Raw Story, the very major online newspaper which focuses on political news, ran a link on May 22 to the Group News Blog feature of my post on the White Night Riot. It's now in their archives for that date at 8:48 a.m., listed as "White Night riot, lesbians vs. cops" (LOVE it!)
Since then, my story was also linked to by Edge of the American West at Milk and Twinkies (brilliant title, that). Edge of the American West is a stunningly written history blog that I read daily, so I'm duly honored.
Thanks to all who were involved in this. The word is out.
(Cicada 17, poster by Jay Ryan)
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
ALTRUISM IS STRONGER THAN COMPETITION
(Irena Sendler, 1943, after escape from Pawiak prison)
I have a couple of postings at other sites to recommend to you, especially if you want hope (not the slick packaged kind) and inspiration.
The first is the story of Irena Sendler, "credited with saving some 2,500 Jewish children from the Nazi Holocaust by smuggling them out of the Warsaw Ghetto, some of them in baskets", who died last Monday at age 98. Ma Vie in KC (a sister lesbian blog) has a great photo of her. Other feminist blogs have been writing about her, and the Life In A Jar: Irena Sendler Project site has other ways to continue her work of Tikkun Olam (repairing the world).
I've previously written about the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising here at Zog Nit Keynmol.
(Sara Tucholsky got a lift from Central Washington's Liz Wallace, left, and Mallory Holtman. Photo by Blake Wolf.)
My second ardent recommendation is to view the video concerning Sara Tucholsky at Group News Blog. I'll copy in their New York Times excerpt identifying her:
Ms. Tucholsky plays softball for Western Oregon University, but in her high school and college careers, the 5-foot-2 player had never hit a home run. On the last Saturday in April, in a game against Central Washington University, she hit her first home run over the fence. But as she began to run the bases, a misstep resulted in a torn knee ligament and she couldn’t continue.
The umpire mistakenly ruled that a team member couldn’t run in her place or assist her around the bases. A member of the opposing team, first baseman Mallory Holtman, the career home run leader in the Great Northwest Athletic Conference, asked the umpire if she and her teammates could help Ms. Tucholsky run the bases. He said they could, and Ms. Holtman and shortstop Liz Wallace carried her around the field as she gently tapped her uninjured leg on each base.
This means that the competing team who assisted her on her home run LOST their chance at the Division II NCAA championship. Go watch the video and hope each of these young women move on to assume positions of leadership in our world, because they are the best we could have.
Monday, March 24, 2008
NOTHING EVER "JUST GROWS THIS WAY"
I'm very proud to announce that some of my thinking/writing, solicited by Jesse Wendel, is included in an extraordinary essay by Lower Manhattanite over at Group News Blog right now, titled Ad-Topsy.
LM takes on the viral video, put out by Lee Habeeb and members of the McCain campaign, intended to destroy the inroads Barack Obama has made among independents, crossover Republicans, and some white members of the Boomer generation. His dissection, assisted by other members of the Boomers who HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN THE ORIGINAL BATTLES (me included), is essential to stop this kind of shit from stealing another American election. Please read it and carry it on.
And -- if you have not yet watched Obama's Speech on Race, a brilliant offer to have a grown-up discussion with us all on this topic, here it is in full. A complete transcript is after the fold. Don't let them divide us again. We can have it ALL. Raise the roof.
Remarks of Senator Barack Obama
"A MORE PERFECT UNION"
Constitution Center, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
18 March 2008
"We the people, in order to form a more perfect union."
Two hundred and twenty one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men gathered and, with these simple words, launched America's improbable experiment in democracy. Farmers and scholars; statesmen and patriots who had traveled across an ocean to escape tyranny and persecution finally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted through the spring of 1787.
The document they produced was eventually signed but ultimately unfinished. It was stained by this nation's original sin of slavery, a question that divided the colonies and brought the convention to a stalemate until the founders chose to allow the slave trade to continue for at least twenty more years, and to leave any final resolution to future generations.
Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution - a Constitution that had at is very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that promised its people liberty, and justice, and a union that could be and should be perfected over time.
And yet words on a parchment would not be enough to deliver slaves from bondage, or provide men and women of every color and creed their full rights and obligations as citizens of the United States. What would be needed were Americans in successive generations who were willing to do their part - through protests and struggle, on the streets and in the courts, through a civil war and civil disobedience and always at great risk - to narrow that gap between the promise of our ideals and the reality of their time.
This was one of the tasks we set forth at the beginning of this campaign - to continue the long march of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more prosperous America. I chose to run for the presidency at this moment in history because I believe deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together - unless we perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to move in the same direction - towards a better future for of children and our grandchildren.
This belief comes from my unyielding faith in the decency and generosity of the American people. But it also comes from my own American story.
I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton's Army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world's poorest nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slaveowners - an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible.
It's a story that hasn't made me the most conventional candidate. But it is a story that has seared into my genetic makeup the idea that this nation is more than the sum of its parts - that out of many, we are truly one.
Throughout the first year of this campaign, against all predictions to the contrary, we saw how hungry the American people were for this message of unity. Despite the temptation to view my candidacy through a purely racial lens, we won commanding victories in states with some of the whitest populations in the country. In South Carolina, where the Confederate Flag still flies, we built a powerful coalition of African Americans and white Americans.
This is not to say that race has not been an issue in the campaign. At various stages in the campaign, some commentators have deemed me either "too black" or "not black enough." We saw racial tensions bubble to the surface during the week before the South Carolina primary. The press has scoured every exit poll for the latest evidence of racial polarization, not just in terms of white and black, but black and brown as well.
And yet, it has only been in the last couple of weeks that the discussion of race in this campaign has taken a particularly divisive turn.
On one end of the spectrum, we've heard the implication that my candidacy is somehow an exercise in affirmative action; that it's based solely on the desire of wide-eyed liberals to purchase racial reconciliation on the cheap. On the other end, we've heard my former pastor, Reverend Jeremiah Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have the potential not only to widen the racial divide, but views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation; that rightly offend white and black alike.
I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, the statements of Reverend Wright that have caused such controversy. For some, nagging questions remain. Did I know him to be an occasionally fierce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course. Did I ever hear him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of his political views? Absolutely - just as I'm sure many of you have heard remarks from your pastors, priests, or rabbis with which you strongly disagreed.
But the remarks that have caused this recent firestorm weren't simply controversial. They weren't simply a religious leader's effort to speak out against perceived injustice. Instead, they expressed a profoundly distorted view of this country - a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America; a view that sees the conflicts in the Middle East as rooted primarily in the actions of stalwart allies like Israel, instead of emanating from the perverse and hateful ideologies of radical Islam.
As such, Reverend Wright's comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems - two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all.
Given my background, my politics, and my professed values and ideals, there will no doubt be those for whom my statements of condemnation are not enough. Why associate myself with Reverend Wright in the first place, they may ask? Why not join another church? And I confess that if all that I knew of Reverend Wright were the snippets of those sermons that have run in an endless loop on the television and You Tube, or if Trinity United Church of Christ conformed to the caricatures being peddled by some commentators, there is no doubt that I would react in much the same way
But the truth is, that isn't all that I know of the man. The man I met more than twenty years ago is a man who helped introduce me to my Christian faith, a man who spoke to me about our obligations to love one another; to care for the sick and lift up the poor. He is a man who served his country as a U.S. Marine; who has studied and lectured at some of the finest universities and seminaries in the country, and who for over thirty years led a church that serves the community by doing God's work here on Earth - by housing the homeless, ministering to the needy, providing day care services and scholarships and prison ministries, and reaching out to those suffering from HIV/AIDS.
In my first book, Dreams From My Father, I described the experience of my first service at Trinity:
"People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the reverend's voice up into the rafters....And in that single note - hope! - I heard something else; at the foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion's den, Ezekiel's field of dry bones. Those stories - of survival, and freedom, and hope - became our story, my story; the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears; until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future generations and into a larger world. Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, black and more than black; in chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a means to reclaim memories that we didn't need to feel shame about...memories that all people might study and cherish - and with which we could start to rebuild."
That has been my experience at Trinity. Like other predominantly black churches across the country, Trinity embodies the black community in its entirety - the doctor and the welfare mom, the model student and the former gang-banger. Like other black churches, Trinity's services are full of raucous laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. They are full of dancing, clapping, screaming and shouting that may seem jarring to the untrained ear. The church contains in full the kindness and cruelty, the fierce intelligence and the shocking ignorance, the struggles and successes, the love and yes, the bitterness and bias that make up the black experience in America.
And this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship with Reverend Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he has been like family to me. He strengthened my faith, officiated my wedding, and baptized my children. Not once in my conversations with him have I heard him talk about any ethnic group in derogatory terms, or treat whites with whom he interacted with anything but courtesy and respect. He contains within him the contradictions - the good and the bad - of the community that he has served diligently for so many years.
I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother - a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.
These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love.
Some will see this as an attempt to justify or excuse comments that are simply inexcusable. I can assure you it is not. I suppose the politically safe thing would be to move on from this episode and just hope that it fades into the woodwork. We can dismiss Reverend Wright as a crank or a demagogue, just as some have dismissed Geraldine Ferraro, in the aftermath of her recent statements, as harboring some deep-seated racial bias.
But race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now. We would be making the same mistake that Reverend Wright made in his offending sermons about America - to simplify and stereotype and amplify the negative to the point that it distorts reality.
The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last few weeks reflect the complexities of race in this country that we've never really worked through - a part of our union that we have yet to perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our respective corners, we will never be able to come together and solve challenges like health care, or education, or the need to find good jobs for every American.
Understanding this reality requires a reminder of how we arrived at this point. As William Faulkner once wrote, "The past isn't dead and buried. In fact, it isn't even past." We do not need to recite here the history of racial injustice in this country. But we do need to remind ourselves that so many of the disparities that exist in the African-American community today can be directly traced to inequalities passed on from an earlier generation that suffered under the brutal legacy of slavery and Jim Crow.
Segregated schools were, and are, inferior schools; we still haven't fixed them, fifty years after Brown v. Board of Education, and the inferior education they provided, then and now, helps explain the pervasive achievement gap between today's black and white students.
Legalized discrimination - where blacks were prevented, often through violence, from owning property, or loans were not granted to African-American business owners, or black homeowners could not access FHA mortgages, or blacks were excluded from unions, or the police force, or fire departments - meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealth to bequeath to future generations. That history helps explain the wealth and income gap between black and white, and the concentrated pockets of poverty that persists in so many of today's urban and rural communities.
A lack of economic opportunity among black men, and the shame and frustration that came from not being able to provide for one's family, contributed to the erosion of black families - a problem that welfare policies for many years may have worsened. And the lack of basic services in so many urban black neighborhoods - parks for kids to play in, police walking the beat, regular garbage pick-up and building code enforcement - all helped create a cycle of violence, blight and neglect that continue to haunt us.
This is the reality in which Reverend Wright and other African-Americans of his generation grew up. They came of age in the late fifties and early sixties, a time when segregation was still the law of the land and opportunity was systematically constricted. What's remarkable is not how many failed in the face of discrimination, but rather how many men and women overcame the odds; how many were able to make a way out of no way for those like me who would come after them.
But for all those who scratched and clawed their way to get a piece of the American Dream, there were many who didn't make it - those who were ultimately defeated, in one way or another, by discrimination. That legacy of defeat was passed on to future generations - those young men and increasingly young women who we see standing on street corners or languishing in our prisons, without hope or prospects for the future. Even for those blacks who did make it, questions of race, and racism, continue to define their worldview in fundamental ways. For the men and women of Reverend Wright's generation, the memories of humiliation and doubt and fear have not gone away; nor has the anger and the bitterness of those years. That anger may not get expressed in public, in front of white co-workers or white friends. But it does find voice in the barbershop or around the kitchen table. At times, that anger is exploited by politicians, to gin up votes along racial lines, or to make up for a politician's own failings.
And occasionally it finds voice in the church on Sunday morning, in the pulpit and in the pews. The fact that so many people are surprised to hear that anger in some of Reverend Wright's sermons simply reminds us of the old truism that the most segregated hour in American life occurs on Sunday morning. That anger is not always productive; indeed, all too often it distracts attention from solving real problems; it keeps us from squarely facing our own complicity in our condition, and prevents the African-American community from forging the alliances it needs to bring about real change. But the anger is real; it is powerful; and to simply wish it away, to condemn it without understanding its roots, only serves to widen the chasm of misunderstanding that exists between the races.
In fact, a similar anger exists within segments of the white community. Most working- and middle-class white Americans don't feel that they have been particularly privileged by their race. Their experience is the immigrant experience - as far as they're concerned, no one's handed them anything, they've built it from scratch. They've worked hard all their lives, many times only to see their jobs shipped overseas or their pension dumped after a lifetime of labor. They are anxious about their futures, and feel their dreams slipping away; in an era of stagnant wages and global competition, opportunity comes to be seen as a zero sum game, in which your dreams come at my expense. So when they are told to bus their children to a school across town; when they hear that an African American is getting an advantage in landing a good job or a spot in a good college because of an injustice that they themselves never committed; when they're told that their fears about crime in urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced, resentment builds over time.
Like the anger within the black community, these resentments aren't always expressed in polite company. But they have helped shape the political landscape for at least a generation. Anger over welfare and affirmative action helped forge the Reagan Coalition. Politicians routinely exploited fears of crime for their own electoral ends. Talk show hosts and conservative commentators built entire careers unmasking bogus claims of racism while dismissing legitimate discussions of racial injustice and inequality as mere political correctness or reverse racism.
Just as black anger often proved counterproductive, so have these white resentments distracted attention from the real culprits of the middle class squeeze - a corporate culture rife with inside dealing, questionable accounting practices, and short-term greed; a Washington dominated by lobbyists and special interests; economic policies that favor the few over the many. And yet, to wish away the resentments of white Americans, to label them as misguided or even racist, without recognizing they are grounded in legitimate concerns - this too widens the racial divide, and blocks the path to understanding.
This is where we are right now. It's a racial stalemate we've been stuck in for years. Contrary to the claims of some of my critics, black and white, I have never been so naïve as to believe that we can get beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle, or with a single candidacy - particularly a candidacy as imperfect as my own.
But I have asserted a firm conviction - a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the American people - that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and that in fact we have no choice is we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union.
For the African-American community, that path means embracing the burdens of our past without becoming victims of our past. It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect of American life. But it also means binding our particular grievances - for better health care, and better schools, and better jobs - to the larger aspirations of all Americans -- the white woman struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man whose been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed his family. And it means taking full responsibility for own lives - by demanding more from our fathers, and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or cynicism; they must always believe that they can write their own destiny.
Ironically, this quintessentially American - and yes, conservative - notion of self-help found frequent expression in Reverend Wright's sermons. But what my former pastor too often failed to understand is that embarking on a program of self-help also requires a belief that society can change.
The profound mistake of Reverend Wright's sermons is not that he spoke about racism in our society. It's that he spoke as if our society was static; as if no progress has been made; as if this country - a country that has made it possible for one of his own members to run for the highest office in the land and build a coalition of white and black; Latino and Asian, rich and poor, young and old -- is still irrevocably bound to a tragic past. But what we know -- what we have seen - is that America can change. That is true genius of this nation. What we have already achieved gives us hope - the audacity to hope - for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.
In the white community, the path to a more perfect union means acknowledging that what ails the African-American community does not just exist in the minds of black people; that the legacy of discrimination - and current incidents of discrimination, while less overt than in the past - are real and must be addressed. Not just with words, but with deeds - by investing in our schools and our communities; by enforcing our civil rights laws and ensuring fairness in our criminal justice system; by providing this generation with ladders of opportunity that were unavailable for previous generations. It requires all Americans to realize that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my dreams; that investing in the health, welfare, and education of black and brown and white children will ultimately help all of America prosper.
In the end, then, what is called for is nothing more, and nothing less, than what all the world's great religions demand - that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Let us be our brother's keeper, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sister's keeper. Let us find that common stake we all have in one another, and let our politics reflect that spirit as well.
For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle - as we did in the OJ trial - or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright's sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she's playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.
We can do that.
But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we'll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.
That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, "Not this time." This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can't learn; that those kids who don't look like us are somebody else's problem. The children of America are not those kids, they are our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in a 21st century economy. Not this time.
This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are filled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care; who don't have the power on their own to overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together.
This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn't look like you might take your job; it's that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit.
This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, and fight together, and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that never should've been authorized and never should've been waged, and we want to talk about how we'll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and giving them the benefits they have earned.
I would not be running for President if I didn't believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation - the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election.
There is one story in particularly that I'd like to leave you with today - a story I told when I had the great honor of speaking on Dr. King's birthday at his home church, Ebenezer Baptist, in Atlanta.
There is a young, twenty-three year old white woman named Ashley Baia who organized for our campaign in Florence, South Carolina. She had been working to organize a mostly African-American community since the beginning of this campaign, and one day she was at a roundtable discussion where everyone went around telling their story and why they were there.
And Ashley said that when she was nine years old, her mother got cancer. And because she had to miss days of work, she was let go and lost her health care. They had to file for bankruptcy, and that's when Ashley decided that she had to do something to help her mom.
She knew that food was one of their most expensive costs, and so Ashley convinced her mother that what she really liked and really wanted to eat more than anything else was mustard and relish sandwiches. Because that was the cheapest way to eat.
She did this for a year until her mom got better, and she told everyone at the roundtable that the reason she joined our campaign was so that she could help the millions of other children in the country who want and need to help their parents too.
Now Ashley might have made a different choice. Perhaps somebody told her along the way that the source of her mother's problems were blacks who were on welfare and too lazy to work, or Hispanics who were coming into the country illegally. But she didn't. She sought out allies in her fight against injustice.
Anyway, Ashley finishes her story and then goes around the room and asks everyone else why they're supporting the campaign. They all have different stories and reasons. Many bring up a specific issue. And finally they come to this elderly black man who's been sitting there quietly the entire time. And Ashley asks him why he's there. And he does not bring up a specific issue. He does not say health care or the economy. He does not say education or the war. He does not say that he was there because of Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in the room, "I am here because of Ashley."
"I'm here because of Ashley." By itself, that single moment of recognition between that young white girl and that old black man is not enough. It is not enough to give health care to the sick, or jobs to the jobless, or education to our children.
But it is where we start. It is where our union grows stronger. And as so many generations have come to realize over the course of the two-hundred and twenty one years since a band of patriots signed that document in Philadelphia, that is where the perfection begins.
-------------------------------------
If you'd to read another great (related) essay, check out the guest post at Group News Blog by TerriInTokyo, a minister's daughter brought up in Harlem and Queens Village, at Black Liberation Theology.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
PARADISE UNBOUND
My beloveds,
I just found this posted by Sara Robinson at Group News Blog. I'm crying as I write this -- tear of relief and connection. Watch it, share it on. Love to you and ALL of yours.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
(Brown crowders, black-eyed peas, purple-hull peas)
Ya'll won't have good luck this year if ya'll don't eat field peas TODAY. This dish was brought to the American South from Africa. Traditionally served with a side of collards or other greens.
HOPPIN' JANE
1 cup field peas, traditionally black-eyed but could also use crowders or purple hulls if you want to live a little dangerously
5-6 cups water OR -- canned/frozen peas instead of making your own
Bacon, sausage or ham hock
1 Vidalia onion, chopped
1 cup brown rice
Lots of freshly-ground black pepper or other versions of heat (tabasco, peppers, etc.)
If you're making the peas from scratch: Wash and sort them. Put them in a saucepan with the water and remove any peas that flat. Bring to a boil, turn down to gentle boil, add the pork and onion and cook uncovered until tender but not mushy, about 1.5 hours. You sholuld have 2 cups of liquid remaining. Add the rice, cover and simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes, never lifting the lid.
If you're using canned peas: Put in a saucepan, add the pork, onion and pepper. Add enough water to make about 2 cups of liquid (probably need to add 1.5 cups). Add the rice, cover and simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes, never lifting the lid.
Remove from the heat without removing the lid and allow to sit, steaming, for another 10 minutes. Pour into a bowl, fluff the rice, and serve immediately.
While ya'll are eating, here's some good news to chew over as well:
David Letterman's production company, World Wide Pants, has made a deal with the Writers Guild of America giving them EVERYTHING the guild was requesting. A fair deal for all future writers. This is going to put enormous pressure on other producers, and means the Letterman show can go right back on the air.
To read a wonderfully uplifting account of it all, check out the post at Group News Blog by Jesse Wendel, complete with moving Speechless videos.
And if you want to start off the year with a mitzvah, take five minutes to write a letter to these folks thanking them for doing such a good thing. World Wide Pants can be reached at:
1697 Boradway, Suite 805, NY, NY 10019; phone 212-975-5300, fax 212-975-4780.
I couldn't find an e-mail address for WWP, but you can write CBS (which airs the Letterman show) with the same message at CBSmailbag@aol.com.
Celebrate your victories twice as hard as you mourn your losses.
Gelukkig Nieuw Jaar
Nouvelle Année Heureuse
Glückliches Neues Jahr
Καλή χρονιά
Nuovo Anno Felice
Ano Novo Feliz
С Новым годом
Feliz Año Nuevo
Akemashiteomedetougozaimasu
Zuri Pya Mwaka
Glad Nytt År
Щастлив Нов Година
Iloinen Veres Ikä
Heldig Nytår
Boldog {j Évet
Hamingjusamur Nýár
Maligaya bagong taon
Szczęśliwego nowego roku
Fericit Nou An
Srećan Nova godina
Srečno novo leto
Glad Nyåren
'n ddedwydd 'n Grai Blwyddyn
Mutlu yeni yıl
Gauisus Novus Annus
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
SPLASHBACK FROM PAST POSTS
Re my post Finding the Empty Spaces in Immigration Rhetoric:
Number of immigration measures introduced in state legislatures this year: 1,404
Number introduced during the previous 10 years: 1,300
(Source: Harper's Index)
Plus --
Researchers at University of California's School of Public Health published a study this week which found "Illegal Latino immigrants do not cause a drag on the U.S. health care system as some critics have contended and in fact get less care than Latinos in the country legally."
Writing in the Archives of Internal Medicine, the study team stated "illegal Mexican immigrants had 1.6 fewer visits to doctors over the course of a year than people born in the country to Mexican immigrants. Other undocumented Latinos had 2.1 fewer physician visits than their U.S.-born counterparts." "Low rates of use of health-care services by Mexican immigrants and similar trends among other Latinos do not support public concern about immigrants' overuse of the health care system. Undocumented individuals demonstrate less use of health care than U.S.-born citizens and have more negative experiences with the health care that they have received," they said.
And --
A beautiful and informative post by Jesse Wendel at Group News Blog tells the story of how 9-year-old Christopher Buchleitner's life was saved by border crosser Jesus Manual Cordova after Christopher's mother had a car wreck in the desert near Tucson and lay dying. Jesus Cordova remained with the boy overnight, building a fire for him and his mother, until help arrived in the morning. For his efforts, Cordova was deported without any thanks or exchange of addresses. Read the story and pass it on.
At John F. Kennedy's inauguration in 1961, Robert Frost recited his poem, The Gift Outright:
The land was ours before we were the land's.
She was our land more than a hundred years
Before we were her people. She was ours
In Massachusetts, in Virginia,
But we were England's, still colonials,
Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,
Possessed by what we now no more possessed.
Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.
Such as we were we gave ourselves outright
(The deed of gift was many deeds of war)
To the land vaguely realizing westward,
But still unstoried, artless, unenhanced,
Such as she was, such as she would become.
We are all, every one of us, immigrants here. Even if we are born here, we still have to forge our own relationship with this country, this geography, this continent that was devoid of human inhabitants until very recently in the span of time. Every single American you love and admire is an immigrant or the child of immigrants. When we say no to those who seek the same things our ancestors did, we are not just arrogant, we are unbelievably stupid -- we are saying no to what may well be our "salvation in surrender". We have no way of knowing who is coming to join us, except that in the greater scheme of things, we need them as much as they need us. 
Re Polar Exploration:
The USGS has a Landsat Image Map of Antartica you can download and muck about with. Zoom in to search for Captain Oates' sleeping bag.
(Kitchen in Scott's Hut as it still looks today, Antarctica)
Re my story about my little brother and I bringing home a giant toad in Brasil, reader little gator created the following personalized I Can Haz Cheezburgr image:
No, ours was bigger. And not as green.
Re the movement to save Texas' only feminist bookstore, former employee Kristen A. Hogan has a website Defining Our Own Context: the past and future of feminist bookstores. The title comes from the1975 mission statement of the Common Woman Bookstore, now known as BookWoman, in Austin, Texas:
"Our primary goal is to distribute women's works not readily available elsewhere, those written, published and/or printed by women. It is important to us that works by women be allowed to define their own context by being brought together in one place."
Hear, hear.
Lastly, an e-mail from reader Kat in Berkeley:
"You and Ginny will be so proud: I finally started cooking with whole wheat flour.
"I know, I know, how could I have waited so long? I didn't grow up with it, I guess, so it took me a while. Anyway, my multi-grain dinner rolls were the hit of Thanksgiving, and I even made a pretty decent batch of biscuits that used about half-and-half unbleached and whole wheat. they had a sweetness and crunch on the outside that was really yummy. Not authentic, I know, but still good.
"I've been thinking and observing the world with regards to your accessibility post on the Watershed. I've realized just how many places really aren't accessible to folks who are disabled. I honestly didn't realize just how inaccessible the world is. An interesting image came last evening in a card shop. The counter was really high, so underneath there was a fold-out counter at about wheelchair-height. Except that the nearest display was only about 3 feet behind......Not making a point or anything, here, just sharing what I've observed...."
Monday, November 26, 2007
BREAKING OUT THE PINESOL
Trent Lott has announced his intention to resign from the Senate, and every blog I've tuned into agrees his decision is timed to avoid new ethics laws which would keep him from becoming a lobbyist for two years after resignation instead of one.
Nobody seems to be surprised by this. It is cynically assumed that the only reason a current Republican seeks political office is to further the advent of a theocracy, make a ton of money, or, preferably, both -- you don't find evangelical conservatives ever discussing the meaning of Christ's admonition to render under Caesar that which is Caesar's or "Verily I say unto you that a rich man shall with difficulty enter into the kingdom of heaven". Instead, they promote the Gospel of Prosperity, and those in the public eye tithe meticulously to the penny.
Check out Bush and Cheney's tax returns: They are ten-percenters in more than just the humanity content of their hearts. Except, of course, for windfalls -- the year that Cheney had to sell his shares in Halliburton so he could award the Vice Presidency to himself, their adjusted gross income was $36,086,635. Of this amount, their direct charitable contributions were $41,646. In addition, they "gifted the benefit of all their remaining stock options" through a gift administration agreement, which had to pay all the taxes that would have been connected with this income. The Cheneys got a valuation of $7,800,000 on these options, which could then be credited as a deduction for them. It doesn't smell on paper, but when has a Vice President come into office on an income of $36 million?
So, Lott is following the money and/or the influence to be had from lobbying. On the face of it, this must be a victory for ethics reform: The path to riches no longer lies in a Republican-controlled Congress. And perhaps Lott is making the best of a bad situation, or perhaps his assessment of where the wind will blow is off. But, I think we should be asking ourselves: Why does he still see a golden highway available to him even with an ostensibly Democratic-controlled legislature?
You know, throwing da bums out is only the first step. We have to scrub down the mess they've left behind, which is so catastrophic (post Bush) that I think most ordinary people who are not the delusional 28%-ers are somewhat hopeless about it being accomplished.
I think it's critical that we do what we can to contradict this hopelessness. As a blogger, tone will be important. I'd like to suggest that we, as framers of discourse, commit to:
(1) Tell the truth, the whole truth, about what is happening but avoid the indulgence of wallowing in the evil they are leaving behind. Declaring it once is enough. Expressing our anger and disappointment should not occupy the core of a post. Research what went wrong, give us the facts, tell us how you feel about it (succinctly), and then suggest a course of action: Where are the mops stored, and who has the sign-up sheets?
(2) Reclaim liberal. Instead of progressive or moderate or centrist, if you mean liberal, use the damned word. It's a GOOD thing.
(3) Insist on our team behaving ethically and rationally. The move to censure Feinstein was long overdue (I'll be writing more about her career soon). One example of clearly saying "Whoa, hang on there, pardner" is Jesse Wendel's post at Group News Blog Not Everything Is A Republican Conspiracy. (Plus, it's a good example of being a proud liberal.)
(4) We're about to inherit a Presidency that has been obscenely gorged with anti-Constitutional powers. We need to be demanding from our candidates how they intend to roll back this power immediately after taking office. If you don't trust a candidate to be that high-minded, then for fuck's sake don't campaign for them.
Friday, October 12, 2007
IMAGINE MY SURPRISE
When I awaken to start my day, after I fire up the rockets on my PC and hit warp DSL, the first thing I do, of course, is visit Emailandia. Then spam dump. Then, most of the time, I hop on over to Orcinus or Group News Blog.
Partly this is because the two blogs I write for have a notification feature so if someone has posted a comment, I've been informed by email. And if I want to answer, I need to think about it a bit.
But mostly it's because what's a-hoppening at Orcinus or GNB is going to engage multiple layers of my brain, not just the political gecko but also my wobbly g*d interface, my funnybone, my "whoa I hadn't thought about that" child wonder, and my human gang loyalty. All at once. Their snark doesn't make you laugh meanly, and they have kickin' graphics.
I like waking up to my Lieutenant Ellen Ripley persona. Ripley rides my perimeter.
"I thought you were dead?" "Yeah, I get that a lot."
See, here's the scoop about me:
I don't take the pain meds prescribed to me. I don't smoke, drink alcohol, or use drugs. I drink caffeine once a day, if that, and chocolate maybe once a week.
I don't use terminology that others have told me is oppressive. When someone confides in me the ways in which they hate themselves, I am not persuaded that they are right in their self-doubt. I listen to children, always.
I have forgiven the people who failed me and tortured me as a child. I have forgiven myself for allowing them to fail and torture me.
I sleep eight to ten hours a night, when possible. I mute commercials. I buy halogen bulbs and brown eggs. I let myself cry.
When I masturbate, I don't fantasize about anyone I've ever known, even someone I haven't known personally. (Because I don't have their consent.)
I resist being pissed at g*d. I write my whole truth, but my ethic insists I try to inject balance and hope into it.
Somewhere early on, I decided to stay present, to move through this life awake and alert, and mostly I've stuck to that decision. Yeah, there were those episodes of leaving my body when he was lying on top of me, when I was 9, 10, 11. And a few tries at getting stinking drunk as a teenager. But those flights never became habit.
More than one person who believes in past lives have told me I am an "old soul" and that this is my last time driving down the block, this existence. First of all, I don't know how they can tell such things -- is there an expiration date stamped on my aura somewhere? And second, it's sad to contemplate. I like being alive and in a body. Yes, the ways we are oppressing each other is horrendous. Yeah, pain sucks. But being able to draw breath, to notice light and shadow, to feel air on the hairs of my arms, to speak a sentence out loud, to have a child climb confidently into your lap, to make pan gravy and then it over fresh biscuits -- heavenly. I want every second of it I can get.
As Terry Galloway once said, "It's a good life, if you can stand it."
My long-ago mothers left the trees and caves, exposing their small, fleshy bodies to savannah risk, building houses of clay and straw, planting grain, inventing grammar and nouns in unending torrents, and I feel like I owe it to them to keep on truckin', evolutionarily-wise.
So anything that bring out Ripley in me is a drug I allow myself. Those two blogs are Ripley friendly.
You can perhaps imagine, then, what it felt like to discover two posts referencing my recent post here about "My Knees, Part Three" and "Crip Ward Tango" -- amazing, eloquent posts, quoting me at length and going on from there to make dazzling connections. By Jesse Wendel and Sara Robinson (who writes for both those blogs).
Like Jesus, I wept.
What can I say? KTHX doesn't really cut it. I could sing something I bet Sara's heard often, "Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know", wo-wo-wo. But then what would I sing to Jesse -- "I wish I was Jessie's girl..."? Alas, I'm an unreconstructed bulldagger. And I don't believe in the divinity of Jesus.
Still, sloppy smooches to you both. Let's keep cross-fertilizing, shall we?
And ya'll, go read the posts there, give 'em some sugar. While you're there, be sure to read the Are You Saved? post and follow the link back to Sara's article at Orcinus about the good news for modern (hu)man. I was going to write about it, but she beat me to it and, as usual, did an awe-inspiring job.
See ya at the sockhop. Bring yr flamethrower.
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