Happy New Year. We put a lot of faith in those three words, don't we? What is is about the turning of the calendar to a new year that fills us with hope. I am getting cynical in my old age, but New Year's Day is just another day. If you really want to hope, try doing it every day instead of waiting for some mythical dragon to appear and take all the trouble away in a fire-breathing rush on New Year's Eve. Baby steps. Every. single. Day.
I got up and got ready to watch the parade,only to remember this is Sunday and they don't run the parade if New Year's Day is Sunday. Hmmm Now what to do? I have been wasting a lot of time with online games and things that don't matter. I need to write. I try not to do New Year's Resolutions that are either impractical or impossible. Sure, EVERYONE resolves to spend less, save more, eat better, lose weight... blah blah blah. I remember a book I read in my teen years, where the family was writing down resolutions. One child was developmentally disabled. For him, they resolved he should be happy. So there. I resolve to be happy- or try my best to be. I resolve to accept things I cannot change, but more importantly to change things I cannot accept. The political news is terrifying to me in the "plans" to eliminate Social Security and Medicare; to restrict reproductive rights and the rights of the LGBT community. This year, I will choose the thing I feel strongest about and join together with like minded citizens to protect OUR rights against the growing tide of hate and bigotry. I am one person. But together we CAN make a difference. My father used to say "your rights end at my nose" How dare anyone decree what I am to believe. This is NOT, despite what some people think, A "christian" nation. We have the freedom OF and the freedom FROM religion. I am afraid that the incoming administration will chose one form of Christianity that we must all follow. Not going to happen. They WILL try.
So, Happy New Year. I wish us all peace and prosperity in the coming year and may your dreams become a reality.
Sunday, January 1, 2017
Friday, December 30, 2016
Post Christmas thoughts
So, for all intents and purposes, Christmas is over. The tree still stands in the cornet of my living room, but I don't dare turn the lights on. It was a nice tree. I always get a "real" tree", the smell is nice, but I find the needles wedged under the couch in July. Seriously, I sweep the living room clean but those things seem to appear as if they have been hiding for a while and decide to appear at odd times. Just a little Christmas all year long, I suppose.
It was a weird Christmas. Sometimes I long for the magical Christmases I seem to remember as a child, but then I remember it's MY job to provide the magic. My grandson is ALMOST old enough to understand and anticipate Christmas, next year should be a hoot. NEXT year, he will either run to or from Santa. Somewhere, I believe my ex-husband has the video of Kate running through the mall to get away from Santa. Silly and bittersweet. She squeezed through the little faux picket fence that surrounded his chair and ran like hell. I'm laughing and chasing her, along with one of the elves, who said it happens all the time. I suppose I should remind her of that at some point, so she and my son-in-law are ready if Bobby takes a powder as well.
I read an article, complaining about how"politically incorrect" Christmas songs were. I can't remember all of them, but they singled out "Jingle Bells" for the sledding accident,"Gramma got run over by a reindeer" because seeing Gramma with hoof-marks would traumatize any child ( it's a SPOOF for goodness sakes- I wonder what they would say about a childhood favorite of mine "Camp Granada") They talked about "Baby it's cold outside" being about... date rape. Sheesh, listen carefully. She's not trying to get away, she's trying to keep her 1950's reputation where "good girls" didn't spend the night with a man. You need to look at things in context, she keeps saying, "well. maybe I can stay for a few minutes more" not LET GO OF ME AND DID YOU JUST DRUG ME. The line "what's in this drink" is a toss off to when people blamed their behavior on having had too much to drink, not that he slipped her a mickey. The article also complained about the extreme consumerism of "Santa Baby" c'mon. the character is a classic"gold digger" and while it's not a flattering portrait of anyone you need to take it in the spirit intended, an adult version of a greedy child; it's NOT serious. I spent a lot of time singing more "devotional" Christmas songs this year, although I did listen to Jette Betrue sing "Santa's on vacation" more than once. She made me smile. Mostly I listened to Corrine May's "the Gift" in my car and a Pandora mix of Nat King Cole holiday tunes at home, which heavily featured him and Bing Crosby. Those were what my parents listened to as they prepared for the holidays. I did a LOT of baking- more than I really needed to - but a bit of the holiday spirit still eluded me. Christmas was here and gone before I knew it. Things in Casa Myers got a bit frantic. Chris and I are planning on doing NOTHING and I mean NOTHING for New Year's eve. I plan on watching Netflix and having some snacks and a glass of champagne at midnight. No parties. No going out. A quiet few days at home together. He was gone for a month and I just need to hang out with him.
If you are wondering about the state of my car after last Friday's accident GOOD NEWS. There was NO damage, except a few scrapes on the bumper. I need a new bulb for my headlight, but it looks like it just burned out not that i's damaged. I would be willing to bet the guy I hit will get a mew bumper from the incident but that's how it goes. I have good insurance and AAA treated me kindly NOT like I had committed some kind of crime and was trying to rip them off ( I'm talking to YOU Mercury Insurance!) Don't get me started on how they treated me when I got hit by a truck and the truck ran. They refused to cover me, because I could not identify the vehicle, even though the CHP verified it. It was a long time ago.
It was a weird Christmas. Sometimes I long for the magical Christmases I seem to remember as a child, but then I remember it's MY job to provide the magic. My grandson is ALMOST old enough to understand and anticipate Christmas, next year should be a hoot. NEXT year, he will either run to or from Santa. Somewhere, I believe my ex-husband has the video of Kate running through the mall to get away from Santa. Silly and bittersweet. She squeezed through the little faux picket fence that surrounded his chair and ran like hell. I'm laughing and chasing her, along with one of the elves, who said it happens all the time. I suppose I should remind her of that at some point, so she and my son-in-law are ready if Bobby takes a powder as well.
I read an article, complaining about how"politically incorrect" Christmas songs were. I can't remember all of them, but they singled out "Jingle Bells" for the sledding accident,"Gramma got run over by a reindeer" because seeing Gramma with hoof-marks would traumatize any child ( it's a SPOOF for goodness sakes- I wonder what they would say about a childhood favorite of mine "Camp Granada") They talked about "Baby it's cold outside" being about... date rape. Sheesh, listen carefully. She's not trying to get away, she's trying to keep her 1950's reputation where "good girls" didn't spend the night with a man. You need to look at things in context, she keeps saying, "well. maybe I can stay for a few minutes more" not LET GO OF ME AND DID YOU JUST DRUG ME. The line "what's in this drink" is a toss off to when people blamed their behavior on having had too much to drink, not that he slipped her a mickey. The article also complained about the extreme consumerism of "Santa Baby" c'mon. the character is a classic"gold digger" and while it's not a flattering portrait of anyone you need to take it in the spirit intended, an adult version of a greedy child; it's NOT serious. I spent a lot of time singing more "devotional" Christmas songs this year, although I did listen to Jette Betrue sing "Santa's on vacation" more than once. She made me smile. Mostly I listened to Corrine May's "the Gift" in my car and a Pandora mix of Nat King Cole holiday tunes at home, which heavily featured him and Bing Crosby. Those were what my parents listened to as they prepared for the holidays. I did a LOT of baking- more than I really needed to - but a bit of the holiday spirit still eluded me. Christmas was here and gone before I knew it. Things in Casa Myers got a bit frantic. Chris and I are planning on doing NOTHING and I mean NOTHING for New Year's eve. I plan on watching Netflix and having some snacks and a glass of champagne at midnight. No parties. No going out. A quiet few days at home together. He was gone for a month and I just need to hang out with him.
If you are wondering about the state of my car after last Friday's accident GOOD NEWS. There was NO damage, except a few scrapes on the bumper. I need a new bulb for my headlight, but it looks like it just burned out not that i's damaged. I would be willing to bet the guy I hit will get a mew bumper from the incident but that's how it goes. I have good insurance and AAA treated me kindly NOT like I had committed some kind of crime and was trying to rip them off ( I'm talking to YOU Mercury Insurance!) Don't get me started on how they treated me when I got hit by a truck and the truck ran. They refused to cover me, because I could not identify the vehicle, even though the CHP verified it. It was a long time ago.
Saturday, December 10, 2016
Saturday night in Tujunga.
I went to a memorial service for a friend this morning. While I knew Michelle from our work on the Board of McGroarty Arts Center, it seems there was so much I did not know about her. I did not know, for instance, that she had a son who did not live, She touched so many lives in her therapy practice and her other community work. The room was packed. My take-away was something someone said.. I have forgotten the exact words but it was something to the effect of "That stuff doesn't matter. Go and live your life" Ok. I will try to do that. There are things I have been fighting to change, but realized that I have to let go and let the Universe, of God do whatever it is supposed to be. Everything in its' time.
Living up here in the Foothills is a mix of peaceful and crazy. I swear "Tujunga " is the Tongvan word for "bad driver" Driving down Foothill, sometimes you take your life in your hands. People either tailgate you or swerve around you, even if you are going above the speed limit. There are so many accidents,one of the local papers has a "Wreck of the week" column. This is the same paper who prints local recipes and I kid you not, once had a recipe for Squirrel stew. I believe it was NOT a satirical piece.
This week, for personal reasons, I resigned from all volunteer duties at my beloved McGroarty Arts Center. I had dedicated close to twelve years of working to keep the Center healthy. Now it's time to step away and focus on me. Selfish of me, but I need more time to focus on what my goals are. I wish the Center well. It is an important place in our Community, the goal I strove for was "affordable arts education for all" I hope this will remain the purpose, as so many people in this community do not have access to art classes. Creativity is so important to healthy people. We focus so much on Math and Science, we forget that art give balance to a scientific mind. We devalue artists as being a drain on society, when we need beauty around us. Good art, of any sort, whether painting or drawing or theater or poetry, heals the soul and opens the mind. We pay sports figures an astronomical amount to "entertain" us with their feats, but someone who paints is just "dabbling" and the cost of a painting is unrealistic. When you buy a piece of art, you are buying someone's hard work as well ( except for Jackson Pollock, that looks like a drop cloth to me- ah well to each his own)
I'm going to try to bake this weekend. So much has been happening, I am not sure I want to have Christmas at all. I will try to get into the spirit by baking and listening to Nat King Cole. It's not Christmas till he sings.
Living up here in the Foothills is a mix of peaceful and crazy. I swear "Tujunga " is the Tongvan word for "bad driver" Driving down Foothill, sometimes you take your life in your hands. People either tailgate you or swerve around you, even if you are going above the speed limit. There are so many accidents,one of the local papers has a "Wreck of the week" column. This is the same paper who prints local recipes and I kid you not, once had a recipe for Squirrel stew. I believe it was NOT a satirical piece.
This week, for personal reasons, I resigned from all volunteer duties at my beloved McGroarty Arts Center. I had dedicated close to twelve years of working to keep the Center healthy. Now it's time to step away and focus on me. Selfish of me, but I need more time to focus on what my goals are. I wish the Center well. It is an important place in our Community, the goal I strove for was "affordable arts education for all" I hope this will remain the purpose, as so many people in this community do not have access to art classes. Creativity is so important to healthy people. We focus so much on Math and Science, we forget that art give balance to a scientific mind. We devalue artists as being a drain on society, when we need beauty around us. Good art, of any sort, whether painting or drawing or theater or poetry, heals the soul and opens the mind. We pay sports figures an astronomical amount to "entertain" us with their feats, but someone who paints is just "dabbling" and the cost of a painting is unrealistic. When you buy a piece of art, you are buying someone's hard work as well ( except for Jackson Pollock, that looks like a drop cloth to me- ah well to each his own)
I'm going to try to bake this weekend. So much has been happening, I am not sure I want to have Christmas at all. I will try to get into the spirit by baking and listening to Nat King Cole. It's not Christmas till he sings.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Jane Eyre and other "classic" novels
Will someone PLEASE explain to me the vast appeal of Jane Eyre? I tried to read it, I tried to have it "read" to me ( book on CD) Nope. I hated Jane. Didn't care. Maybe because all of the characters are now somewhat cliche. I suppose Brontè INVENTED those cliches. I also suppose I hate it because to me, it's the ultimate Regency Romance and no offense to those who love them, but I HATE Regency Romances. Just not for me.
My latest foray into Jane-land came as a result of my reading (on CD) a collection of stories based on the line "Reader, I married him". It was interesting, some of the stories were awful but some were quite entertaining and I wondered, again, why so many people who are well read seem to love Jane Eyre. I loved the Jasper Ffode book "The Eyre Affair" which begins the "Thursday Next" series. The book I am reading now "The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend" also has the heroine wax rhapsodic about the book. She is seen weeping openly in her shop window, clutching the book after she finishes it. The male protagonist doesn't get why she is weeping. I'm with him.
In Readers of Broken Wheel, the author makes a point, though, about "Classic" novels and the fact that the enforced reading of them makes them a chore rather than a pleasure. As an English major, I was taught to look for themes and recurring images as if I were solving some sort of puzzle, rather than reading for the pleasure of the story and the use of language. "Having" to read something rather than "wanting" to read something takes the fun out of it. Now, I'm not saying I am going to go back and re-read Moby Dick ( those whaling chapters aren't any less boring in pleasure reading.) I remember trying to read "The Princess Bride" at some point in my life. It starts out with a man buying the book that he was read as a child, only to discover that his - father ... grandfather... whoever had read it to him had edited it down when he was reading it to him so he got the "good parts version" I suppose that's what really GOOD film-making is, the "good parts version" although sometimes they leave out MY favorite parts. I don't know if I would actually sit through an complete version of Lord of the Rings ( Maybe if they just skimmed over "The Two Towers" and did everything in " Return of the King". hmmmm)
Still I ponder Jane Eyre. I am not much of a fan of that period in Literature anyway. I struggled through most of the novels I was forced to read. Maybe I will try to revisit them with an eye to actually enjoying the story and NOT trying to write a paper about it. I'm NOT reading Jane Eyre OR Moby Dick however. Any suggestions?
My latest foray into Jane-land came as a result of my reading (on CD) a collection of stories based on the line "Reader, I married him". It was interesting, some of the stories were awful but some were quite entertaining and I wondered, again, why so many people who are well read seem to love Jane Eyre. I loved the Jasper Ffode book "The Eyre Affair" which begins the "Thursday Next" series. The book I am reading now "The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend" also has the heroine wax rhapsodic about the book. She is seen weeping openly in her shop window, clutching the book after she finishes it. The male protagonist doesn't get why she is weeping. I'm with him.
In Readers of Broken Wheel, the author makes a point, though, about "Classic" novels and the fact that the enforced reading of them makes them a chore rather than a pleasure. As an English major, I was taught to look for themes and recurring images as if I were solving some sort of puzzle, rather than reading for the pleasure of the story and the use of language. "Having" to read something rather than "wanting" to read something takes the fun out of it. Now, I'm not saying I am going to go back and re-read Moby Dick ( those whaling chapters aren't any less boring in pleasure reading.) I remember trying to read "The Princess Bride" at some point in my life. It starts out with a man buying the book that he was read as a child, only to discover that his - father ... grandfather... whoever had read it to him had edited it down when he was reading it to him so he got the "good parts version" I suppose that's what really GOOD film-making is, the "good parts version" although sometimes they leave out MY favorite parts. I don't know if I would actually sit through an complete version of Lord of the Rings ( Maybe if they just skimmed over "The Two Towers" and did everything in " Return of the King". hmmmm)
Still I ponder Jane Eyre. I am not much of a fan of that period in Literature anyway. I struggled through most of the novels I was forced to read. Maybe I will try to revisit them with an eye to actually enjoying the story and NOT trying to write a paper about it. I'm NOT reading Jane Eyre OR Moby Dick however. Any suggestions?
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Thankfuls
Well it's Thanksgiving Day already and I neglected to post ANYTHING this month about things I am thankful for. It's been a hellish month already so I am going through my "list" in no particular order:
Naturally I am thankful for friends and family. That goes without saying but I have to say it anyway. This year has been like a terror train funhouse ride. Just when you think it is over and you can see daylight, some ax-wielding clown pops out of the darkness. I have clung to my friends my family and what is left of my faith. I am not sure I should even pray anymore, every time I do God seems to answer me with the exact opposite of what I pray about. I am not asking for money or anything ridiculous but this year God has tested my resolve. Maybe I should just back off asking and see what He has for me.
I am thankful for the doctors and nurses who helped our Mom this past month. She has a hard road to go, but she is one feisty chick!
I am thankful for my mentor, who is leaving the job far too soon. I am angry that he is, but grateful for his tutelage and the way he changed how I look at things. As the song goes "because I knew you I have been changed for good"
I am thankful that MY doctors talked me into making a few drastic changes in my life. I also have a long way until I am better, but I AM better than I was this time last year. I am off a LOT of the meds and have lost 30 pounds. It's been a hard year, but I am fighting back.
I am thankful for my colleagues at the Library. Recently, in a General Meeting, they spoke to my General Manager about me and gave me a standing ovation. I cannot tell you how that made me feel, to know that they realize the job I am trying to do and appreciate it. It was a real love-fest and it made me feel better about the job. Just that day, I had been feeling quite discouraged. My angels must have conspired to make me see that I am making a difference and for that I am truly grateful.
I am thankful for food on the table, a roof over my head, the love of my soulmate and the opportunity to show that love can make a difference in this world. The hateful rhetoric of "That" man that now flows freely from people who think they are empowered to hate has made me realize that those of us who do not believe in that sort of thing have a struggle before us. We can make this a better place, one person at a time. If you believe that one man can't make a difference, ( whatever your faith) I can tell you a story about a Jewish Carpenter.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Naturally I am thankful for friends and family. That goes without saying but I have to say it anyway. This year has been like a terror train funhouse ride. Just when you think it is over and you can see daylight, some ax-wielding clown pops out of the darkness. I have clung to my friends my family and what is left of my faith. I am not sure I should even pray anymore, every time I do God seems to answer me with the exact opposite of what I pray about. I am not asking for money or anything ridiculous but this year God has tested my resolve. Maybe I should just back off asking and see what He has for me.
I am thankful for the doctors and nurses who helped our Mom this past month. She has a hard road to go, but she is one feisty chick!
I am thankful for my mentor, who is leaving the job far too soon. I am angry that he is, but grateful for his tutelage and the way he changed how I look at things. As the song goes "because I knew you I have been changed for good"
I am thankful that MY doctors talked me into making a few drastic changes in my life. I also have a long way until I am better, but I AM better than I was this time last year. I am off a LOT of the meds and have lost 30 pounds. It's been a hard year, but I am fighting back.
I am thankful for my colleagues at the Library. Recently, in a General Meeting, they spoke to my General Manager about me and gave me a standing ovation. I cannot tell you how that made me feel, to know that they realize the job I am trying to do and appreciate it. It was a real love-fest and it made me feel better about the job. Just that day, I had been feeling quite discouraged. My angels must have conspired to make me see that I am making a difference and for that I am truly grateful.
I am thankful for food on the table, a roof over my head, the love of my soulmate and the opportunity to show that love can make a difference in this world. The hateful rhetoric of "That" man that now flows freely from people who think they are empowered to hate has made me realize that those of us who do not believe in that sort of thing have a struggle before us. We can make this a better place, one person at a time. If you believe that one man can't make a difference, ( whatever your faith) I can tell you a story about a Jewish Carpenter.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Dallas 1963
Where were you, this day in 1963, when you heard the news that changed our world and forever took away our innocence?
Each generation has that defining moment, Pearl Harbor for my parents, 911 for my daughter, but for us, the assassination of JFK was OUR defining moment. I was in the back seat of my parent's Green Bellaire. My mom heard the news on the radio and pulled the car over at the corner of Bartee and Van Nuys. She kept sobbing "oh that young man" over and over. I was five and coming home from morning kindergarten classes. 53 years later, I can still feel myself, frightened for a reason I did not really understand- what five year old back then knew anything about death? My family mourned him, grieved for his widow and his children. I suppose it was the fact that he had children who were our age that made his death more tragic to us. We saw him laughing with them and we saw what death and grief were, in their faces.
They say the nation looked to Jackie, to teach them how to mourn. What an incredible sad duty being First Lady must have been for her. Her obvious sorrow, held together with such stately grace is something I remember, probably not from the events, but the photos taken of her. How terrible to be forced to bear your unimaginable grief in public, not to be allowed to sob or break down. She was an amazing woman. She understood her part in history. When she began her life as first lady, I recall that people didn't think much of her and said so. They mocked her efforts to remodel the White House, but she was a student of history and architecture and was able to call on the greatest minds to assist her in the task of making the White House a showplace after the war years. Yet when our country was at our most hopeless point, we put all our grief and pain on her slim shoulders; and she rose to the task. She was always trying to get away from that personae, I think, which is probably one of the reasons she married Onassis; she could escape and he could protect her. We thought we knew her and thought we owned her. This was never the case. I hope she had a marvelous life, despite it all. But as I think of this day in Dallas in 1963, I see her in that pink suit, splattered with his blood, bravely leading the nation for a brief moment of absolute shock and grief.
Each generation has that defining moment, Pearl Harbor for my parents, 911 for my daughter, but for us, the assassination of JFK was OUR defining moment. I was in the back seat of my parent's Green Bellaire. My mom heard the news on the radio and pulled the car over at the corner of Bartee and Van Nuys. She kept sobbing "oh that young man" over and over. I was five and coming home from morning kindergarten classes. 53 years later, I can still feel myself, frightened for a reason I did not really understand- what five year old back then knew anything about death? My family mourned him, grieved for his widow and his children. I suppose it was the fact that he had children who were our age that made his death more tragic to us. We saw him laughing with them and we saw what death and grief were, in their faces.
They say the nation looked to Jackie, to teach them how to mourn. What an incredible sad duty being First Lady must have been for her. Her obvious sorrow, held together with such stately grace is something I remember, probably not from the events, but the photos taken of her. How terrible to be forced to bear your unimaginable grief in public, not to be allowed to sob or break down. She was an amazing woman. She understood her part in history. When she began her life as first lady, I recall that people didn't think much of her and said so. They mocked her efforts to remodel the White House, but she was a student of history and architecture and was able to call on the greatest minds to assist her in the task of making the White House a showplace after the war years. Yet when our country was at our most hopeless point, we put all our grief and pain on her slim shoulders; and she rose to the task. She was always trying to get away from that personae, I think, which is probably one of the reasons she married Onassis; she could escape and he could protect her. We thought we knew her and thought we owned her. This was never the case. I hope she had a marvelous life, despite it all. But as I think of this day in Dallas in 1963, I see her in that pink suit, splattered with his blood, bravely leading the nation for a brief moment of absolute shock and grief.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Where to begin
I have not written anything since the election happened on Tuesday November 8. I am still in shock. I have stated before and I will say again. Donald Trump and his followers SCARE me. I don't think people get it. This is a man who said he has never HEARD of the KKK, who encouraged his followers to beat up people who disagreed with them and from all accounts, asked why we couldn't just USE the Nukes.
What is WORSE to me is that I am seeing all kinds of backlash toward me form BOTH sides. For the Record, not all white people voted for Trump and when I woke up in a world where he had been chosen, my fears about him became real. I am afraid for women who will have LESS access to adequate reproductive health care and will be subjected to MORE harassment as the Republican leader believes that we should be"grabbed by the pussy" to keep us in line. I am afraid for the poor living on the poverty line as taxes rise in order to balance a budget that most experts say will send us into another Recession. I am afraid for those who will lose their health care coverage ( it appears he lied to them about repealing it- so I have SOME hope) I am afraid for my LGBT friends, as the Republican Platform actually singled them out by stating that they wanted to appoint a Supreme Court Justice who would overturn the Marriage Equality Act. THEY WANT TO TAKE AWAY RIGHTS, They must believe that LGBT people are less deserving of basic AMERICAN rights.
I am wearing a safety pin on my necklace in a small act of comfort and protest. YES, I am prepared to help someone in distress. I am a 58 year old white female, but I will do what I can. HOWEVER I am taking heat from people of color who are mocking me. One person claimed the distress of "white folks" is fake and we can't know real distress unless we are people of color. She went on to say that we will never understand what it is like to be a person of color. I will never experience the things that people of color do every day because of the color of their skin, but to assume that I do not have compassion simply because of the color of my skin is just as wrong, isn't it? No, I can never really know how you feel, but can you ever truly know how I feel? You take one look at my pale skin and make a snap judgement about me. Isn't this the thing you complain that I do? I can not experience what you are feeling, but you can help me to understand . Those of us feeling pain for this country must unite against a common problem, not splinter further because of it.
Mostly, I am tired but trying to find a glimmer of hope in all of this. The day after the election, I was talking to a young man in this twenties. We consoled each other and I told him "we worked for change and we did it once, we can do it again, but we are counting on YOUR generation to stand with us in the fire" He smiled and said that he was sure his generation would step up and that he was considering getting much more involved in politics because of this. It gave me a bit of hope for our future, that seeing this victory is ready and willing to work for our own.
What is WORSE to me is that I am seeing all kinds of backlash toward me form BOTH sides. For the Record, not all white people voted for Trump and when I woke up in a world where he had been chosen, my fears about him became real. I am afraid for women who will have LESS access to adequate reproductive health care and will be subjected to MORE harassment as the Republican leader believes that we should be"grabbed by the pussy" to keep us in line. I am afraid for the poor living on the poverty line as taxes rise in order to balance a budget that most experts say will send us into another Recession. I am afraid for those who will lose their health care coverage ( it appears he lied to them about repealing it- so I have SOME hope) I am afraid for my LGBT friends, as the Republican Platform actually singled them out by stating that they wanted to appoint a Supreme Court Justice who would overturn the Marriage Equality Act. THEY WANT TO TAKE AWAY RIGHTS, They must believe that LGBT people are less deserving of basic AMERICAN rights.
I am wearing a safety pin on my necklace in a small act of comfort and protest. YES, I am prepared to help someone in distress. I am a 58 year old white female, but I will do what I can. HOWEVER I am taking heat from people of color who are mocking me. One person claimed the distress of "white folks" is fake and we can't know real distress unless we are people of color. She went on to say that we will never understand what it is like to be a person of color. I will never experience the things that people of color do every day because of the color of their skin, but to assume that I do not have compassion simply because of the color of my skin is just as wrong, isn't it? No, I can never really know how you feel, but can you ever truly know how I feel? You take one look at my pale skin and make a snap judgement about me. Isn't this the thing you complain that I do? I can not experience what you are feeling, but you can help me to understand . Those of us feeling pain for this country must unite against a common problem, not splinter further because of it.
Mostly, I am tired but trying to find a glimmer of hope in all of this. The day after the election, I was talking to a young man in this twenties. We consoled each other and I told him "we worked for change and we did it once, we can do it again, but we are counting on YOUR generation to stand with us in the fire" He smiled and said that he was sure his generation would step up and that he was considering getting much more involved in politics because of this. It gave me a bit of hope for our future, that seeing this victory is ready and willing to work for our own.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)