NRU Perspective Edition & note on absence

This piece on dairy farmers and their travails with the immigration police offers a perspective on enforcement that right-wing diatribes never seem to get to addressing:  who will work the agricultural jobs when we block the undocumented from getting those jobs?  This piece, like many others that have addressed the fake argument that the unemployed will take these jobs, makes the point that not only are the jobs difficult to fill but that this is an industry that is producing other jobs that will also be jeopardized.  That is, blocking the hiring of some undocumented to the work on the farms, jeopardizes the yogurt manufacturing jobs and so on ... the it's the economy, stupid.  That we are having this enforcement discussion in the first place is so ridiculous...but there you have it.

Hoping to catch this documentary on Wonder Woman on PBS's POV.  I have to admit I would go to see a blockbuster with a woman as the main character even though I haven't had any interest in the comic book male movies. I am a fan of the Wonder Woman series, I am sure I watched every one of them. I remember looking forward to it each week -- but I have always been sad about Lynda Carter not wanting to own her heritage.

This a lovely tribute to a very funny man who like all humans had his troubles.  RIP Jonathon Winters, thank you for sharing the bright spots and the dark ones, too.

I started this collection a while ago ... and couldn't really bring myself add to it.  But I just read this piece (open on my computer for a while) and realized that it needs to be included here. In the collecting and piecing together the photos for the funerals, I have felt the incompleteness of not including the stories ... but we are too close to these stories right now.

There have been many other stories that I have heard and read when I have thought ... oh, I should share that.  But my brain has not been able to hold that thought long enough to actually share anything.

I am off for a little recharge, perhaps in the resting and reviving my brain will remember how to hold one thought long enough to follow through.  I will be back by the end of May.

lessons and a hard place

Never try to learn more from an

experience than there is in it.

There are some vivid and painful
experiences that have little to teach us.

-D. Sutter

I am stuck between the notion that there should be something to learn from tragedy, and the idea that living through each part of life is the lesson in itself.

It's not comfortable.

I am trying to be hopeful, but mostly I am just trying to upright.

Perhaps I will figure out how to fall down and still feel strong.

You gain strength, courage and confidence

by every experience in which you really 

stop to look fear in the face.

You are able to say to yourself,

"I lived through this horror.

I can take the next thing that comes along."

You must do the thing 

you think you cannot do.

-Eleanor Roosevelt

ugh, education edition

I am struggling in deciding if I describe this article as "Michelle Rhee & Wal-Mart: Perfect Together" or "Another Reason to Boycott Wal-Mart." Truthfully, there is nothing that would get me into a Wal-Mart.  Nothing.  And there is something poetically right about the association of these two entities.  And, UGH.

one day at a time...

I have been trying to write ... even to think about what to write about how I feel.  Turns out I am not able to put words to it, yet.

I woke to this story on StoryCorps.  It breaks my heart, but it is one of the issues that makes me so sad for my nieces and nephews.  Of course, we are all here for them ... and will happily and lovingly fill this role in their lives.  But it just seems so unfair that my brother and sister will not know their grandchildren, will not talk their children through happy and challenging times, will not be able to hold their children close in times of trouble.

That's as close as I get to how I feel right now.

Poetry Thursday, hope

Everything in the universe 

is within you.
Ask all from yourself.

Rumi

Arno, May 2012, courtesy A. R. C.

NRU, mostly education, not necessarily snarky

I enjoyed this piece on playing music for little ones during lunch hour in the cafeteria... but the radio title was a little more than confusing since music at lunch hardly seems like silent lunch.  Glad they decided to use a different title for the online version.

Looking forward to see what Isiah Thomas will do with his Masters in Ed.   I am particularly interested in his views on the exploitation of young Black men in college sports. It is an issue that needs a champion.

I am collecting some articles for my dissertation, so bear with me as I post them here. I am not necessarily endorsing the piece, just need to be able to access it in future.

This one is about low performance in schools and how that makes some students *not college ready* as if we knew what that means.  Personally, I think there are definitely skills lacking in many college students; however, if they can't get up to speed in college, then where will they? Where might they get college ready?

Pretty sure I have already saved this one in a NRU, but just in case: The El Paso *cheating* scandal that sent a supt to jail.

A *review* of the core curriculum, again... still no one says anything really of use, but there you have it.  In a tangentially connected piece, we see the nostalgia (real or imagined) that proposed change engenders.  I think the comments to these stories tell the real story about how we *remember* our education/schooling and what we deem important about it now.

Thirty years after A Nation at Risk, where are we?

Fine

So, what how do you answer the question: How are you? when you are facing down these circumstances:
-I lost my brother seven months ago
-I lost my sister a week ago
-There are wildfires threatening two uncles who refuse to evacuate
-Several cousins are "helping" the uncles who won't evacuate effectively putting themselves also in danger

I am not even going to count the rest of the stress form the end of the semester as it seems negligible, even preferable, at this moment.

I'm fine.

I could say that.

I was even acting like I was fine for the past three days.

Never mind that the tears are only a thought away.

Never mind that getting out of bed is a chore.

Yeah... I'm fine alright.

This morning I missed my flight because in my fineness I thought my plane left at 7:15a instead of arriving at 7:15am.

Yeah, very fine, alright.

Thank goodness for Southwest and the many, many flights.

Currently in Las Vegas, waiting for the flight to Los Angeles.

Slight detour, but not arriving much later than I thought I was supposed to arrive.

I'm fine.

At least I will be someday.

Trying to find perspective

Moon over Santa Cruz, 2007

Perhaps the wisdom lies 

in engaging the life 

you have been given

as fully and courageously

as possible and

not letting go

until you find 

the unknown blessing

that is is

everything.

-R. N. Remen

When we lost my brother seven months ago, my sister insisted on including in the slide show this random squirrel as well as few other random pictures.  These are the random photos I am including in her slide show.   May she rest in peace.

Random Squirrel

Random Iceberg, Alaska, 2008

Random dolphins

Lemons/Lemonade and Sour Grapes

I love stories that show folks making lemonade out of lemons.

Perhaps I have such an affinity for them because I feel largely incapable of doing that.

I won't claim to be looking at this situation and thinking *clearly* or *objectively* about it.

All I see is devastation.  I can't imagine tomorrow or the next day.  It all feels the same -- I want to throw up.  I want to crawl in a closet and never come out. 

I wish it made me want to be healthier, or nicer, or more optimistic.

I wish I could say I am thinking about making each moment count, living like each day were your last.

Nope.

I am just trying to make it through the hours.

I am praying that when it's time to sleep I will be able to close my eyes and rest.

So far, it is not happening much.

Life looks grim even when the sun is shining.

Perhaps there is a better day coming, but not if I have to wish it into being.

Grace

In the tumult of the tragic events that have befallen my family of late, I wondered what have we done to deserve this. 

I know, intellectually, that tragedy can find anyone and that there is no reason to be understood.

I know that many people are grieving sudden and expected losses ... that there are many with heavy hearts.

I know.

But, the pain is so excruciating.  I almost don't know how to feel.

When my brother died, I experienced heartache like I never had.  I felt bereft and empty and alone.

I thought: there can't be anything worse than this.

Perhaps the universe heard my thoughts?

This, this is far worse.

This time, my heart was pulled directly out of my body and crushed.

I don't even know what to feel.  What is worse than bereft, empty and alone?

In the midst of this shock, grief and despair, my friends have been filling the void.

At a time when I thought grace was impossible, here it is.

I have no words for the grief, and I have no words adequate to express the gratitude for the love and support of my friends.

Without you, I truly would be alone.

NRU, lemons and lemonade

We are needing some lightening up of the NRU around here...
[little did I know when I started collecting these pieces just how badly I would need the silver linings]

Here is one piece that almost got included in the education round up -- but I wasn't feeling despairing or snarky about it.  It tells about a restorative justice program in schools in Oakland (mostly), but it's in the NY Times ...go figure.  In any case, it demonstrates that children, no matter how much they upset you, should not be "throw aways" because we can reach them, if we try.

I am including this piece in this lemonade from lemons roundup, even though it might seem more lemony than we usually like lemonade to be ... it demonstrates the hard work it takes, the stakes at play and the reality of helping these first generation college students towards their goals.  Here is a taste of why it is, indeed, lemonade:

"The model reverses ideas about how to best serve students whose parents haven’t gone to college. Gone is knee-jerk vocational tracking. Gone is the thinking that students must master all the basics before taking on more challenging work."

 In some ways, it is the perfect counterpoint to the piece on community colleges (in the last ed nru) that demonstrates the danger of lack of progression when the program focuses on putting students into remedial classes "to catch them up."  Ok, in fact, that piece elided all of that information -- but if you go through the scorecard, you can start to get the picture, despite the attempts to obfuscate with graphics.

There are those that are complaining (still) about Obamacare -- particularly about the shortage of primary care physicians that will be needed to meet the needs of providing care for all.  Let's set aside that these are the same folks who have been complaining about people using emergency rooms as primary care.  Here are some folks that are doing something instead of complaining -- now, that is making some lemonade from lemons.

You probably need to squint at this piece (or whatever is the equivalent of squinting in listening) to understand the lemon/lemonade connection, but it was just too interesting a piece to pass up. This graduate student talks about what you see in Chinatown (Los Angeles) in the windows, on the signs, etc., that demonstrate the *code switching* in terms of culture in this neighborhood.  Full disclosure: I love almost anything that deals with downtown LA -- which I recommend to anyone visiting LA ... walk around it, take it all in... it really is the heart of LA.  Much more representative of the Southland than Beverly Hills or even Hollywood.

I don't know how I missed this story about the Newtown families deciding where to send the gifts they received as part of the outpouring by people around the country.  There is nothing more lemonade from lemons than this kind of generosity and connection.

 I love that this was not just student initiated but also mostly student-run Relay for Life.  I believe we don't give young people enough space to do what they would like to do for others.  However, would it have hurt the writer to include the barest minimum of detail on the teacher the students were honoring with this event?

This is the way things will change ... the young people taking it upon themselves to act.  All those protestors should take a page from this book.

Poverty doesn't have to mean low academic achievement, this family is a testament to that fact.

Devastation and Loss, part 732

There are no words to express the devastation I feel right now.

Sisters, 2009

I would give you no advice but this:

To go into yourself and to explore

the depth where your life

wells forth.

-Ranier Marie Rilke

Sisters, circa 1973

Digging deep but unable to fill the hole.

deja vu in a nightmarish way

Twenty some years ago, I made each one of my siblings a photo album of their lives. 

I gathered all the best from my mother's shoe boxes full of pictures. 

I organized them, picked quotes, wrote them out in my most careful calligraphy, and put it all together.

Now I am doing it again, but this time it is for a memorial slide show.

The first time was heartbreaking, but it was also lovely to sort through the photos, reliving mostly highs and some lows.

This time, I want to pull my skin off, I want to be like an armadillo and be safe inside some armor.

My heart beats like it doesn't mean it.

I am always at the doorstep of weeping.

I want to fight with doctors and hospitals and hire lawyers and scream.

But, I am looking through photos, heartbroken, with very few lovely feelings.

I hope this is the last time I have to relive this nightmare.

NRU...Earth Day Edition

Ever wonder what to do with the wood from that tree you chopped down?  The folks at Wood from the Hood have some ideas.  Though this piece was interesting ... it didn't seem to address some of the other side of this issue, like, why were folks cutting down these perfectly good trees?

This is the kind of proactive work I love to see from young people ... when you don't like something, use the system to make your statement.

So, who knew that the first weather felon (read: global warming felon) would be the groundhog?  Well, talk about denial... poor groundhog did his job ... but global warming means crazy UNNATURAL weather.  How's a groundhog supposed to know and figure that in to his predictions?  ...I am not going to post the "follow up" stories whose headlines were as close as I got to them. 

Drinking this milk doesn't cause any harm to the environment.  wow... if they can do, why can't others?

The groundhogs are getting off easy in this global warming thing, if all they get is indicted for not properly predicting when spring would come.  These poor animals are getting the short end of the stick, and they are just the first of many what we will have to watch wither away. I guess the only ones who have it worse are those that are already gone, and we didn't even notice.

I sure hope global warming deny-ers like wine because it may be the only thing that will convince them to change their ways.

Something tells me that when the EPA confirmation hearing doesn't revolve around Environmental issues (hence the E in EPA) then we are not headed in the right direction.

Unfortunately the stories about what works in relatively clean (nothing is purely or truly clean) energy don't always make page 1, interesting and important as they may be.

I love bugs, don't get me wrong, but they are better when they are naturally occurring not over producing due to funky weather conditions -- read: moth invasion last spring.  It is, in my opinion, like a curse from god for misbehaving.

NRU, education -- snarky edition

So, this study proves that teachers are doing just fine?

"States Redefining Public Schooling" is the internet headline for this story; the actual headline is "With Vouchers, States Shift Aid for Schools to Families."  If you have a puzzled look on your face, join me.  I almost couldn't bring myself to read this story.

This is what happens when you put the priority on a test score rather than on the learning.  This story just gets more sad and frustrating. What exactly is going to come from jailing these folks? The situation that bred their crime has not changed, who will be next?  Be fired or cheat, but get those meaningless scores up.

 I was torn about what kind of news round up should include this story.  Since the story itself named the education system, I thought I would go ahead and include it here.  Just in case there was any doubt that life circumstances affect student achievement, here is some *proof*.  But, really, educational attainment and achievement is far more complex than poor health or poor dental health.

This story is almost enough to make one laugh out loud.  What does it mean if states with the new teacher evaluations don't find droves of inefficient teachers, according to their evaluations?  Why is it that the article has the percentages of teachers "passing" but without any word to the "passing" rates of the students.  Hmmm.... curious.

When I read the headline on this piece "School Reformer Sends Child to Private School,"  I just hoped it was someone like Michelle Rhee who claims to *love* public schools and especially teachers, that's why she is squeezing them to death, Elmira style.  And then it was her! Hooray for hypocrites!  The best part of the story is how Amy Graff unravels the half-truths to demonstrate the level of hypocrisy.  She tells people, "I am a public school parent" even though one of her daughters attends a fancy private high school.  She could blame it on her ex-husband, but he is also a former TFA-er and currently commissioner of the Tennessee Department of Education.  As the article rightly points out, they are sending their daughter to the kind of school that does not fit into the category of schools they advocate for others: "'a corporate-based school-reform agenda that uses standardized test scores as the major accountability measure for students, schools and teachers.'"  It is probably best that I never meet Michelle, I will just have nothing nice to say, Thumper notwithstanding.

I am running out of snark, and I am mostly left with disappointment verging on despair:
There are less classes available, more students trying to take general education, and, in general, severe budget cuts.  And, less students are gaining traction either on transferring or attaining an AA. If you hadn't already guessed, I am writing about California community colleges.  They started under the a great goal to help people who didn't *need* college for advancement, rather those folks needed certificates, programs in specific training, etc.  Well, indeed, the community colleges are between a rock and a hard place -- they have been there for a while, and now they are going to be judged harshly without taking into account that spot.  I haven't had time to read the "report," and probably won't have time until July to think about it, but I will share the link to the "Student Success Scorecard" published by the outgoing chancellor.

I would like to buy Michelle Rhee a t-shirt, it will simply say: LIAR.  I post this here just so you can read the way she handles questions, or being questioned, and I will pull out the pertinent part so you don't even have to click the link:

"Ms. Rhee issued a statement saying that she did not recall receiving the memo. She added that both the city inspector general and the Education Department had already 'reviewed the memo and confirmed my belief that there was no widespread cheating.'”

Um, I didn't get no memo, and if I did then it was cleared... uh huh.

Quote Thursday, again...

We will discover the nature of our particular genius when we stop trying

to transform ourselves to other people's models,

learn to be ourselves and allow our natural channel to open.
-Shakti Gawain

California Dreaming, even June gloom ...

Stand up to terror

I watched in horror and disbelief as I saw the aftermath of the bomb blasts in Boston.

I was waiting for a slice of pizza for lunch on a crazy day where I had all of 15 minutes for lunch.

There was no sound, just the same video over and over saying that bombs had exploded at the finish line.

I had no idea at what time, at what point in the marathon, or who had been hurt.

It was several hours before I could get home to a computer and read about it... and then watch news shows about it.

Not unlike Newtown, there were conflicting headlines.

But one thing was clear... when the bombs went off, a crowd of people ran towards those hurt ... not away for their own safety.

--------------
What ran through my mind at first had nothing to do with this being a possible terrorist attack -- actually, in what sense can a bomb not be terrorism?

What I thought about was the months of preparation -- physical, mental -- that goes into a marathon.  No one deserves to be targeted in this way -- but it seems an especially cruel joke to explode a bomb at the finish line -- before all those who were competing could fulfill their goal.

I know it may sound petty, but you may not have run that far in your life -- and many people run marathons in the way some people go to shrines as mandas.  It takes months to prepare for the abuse you will subject your body to in 26 miles.  I have only run 1/2 marathons to avoid that kind of abuse, but I have been a spectator to watch my sister pass the finish line after the full.

So, then my thoughts turned to those spectators.

It takes a fair amount of stamina to stand on the sidelines for hours as well.  Some of those people move to different points on the route in order to cheer on their loved ones.  Those who understand the tremendous will power it takes to keep putting one foot in front of the other, cheer on everyone.

It makes for a really special community --unlike many others-- where you support the anonymous runners as they pass you perhaps not always understanding the deep way you touch all those passing by.

To place those spectators and those runners in harm's way is unconscionable -- of course, it is not okay to harm anyone for any reason.

My heart broke for those who were most impacted by this -- the ones bringing up the rear, over four hours into the race, those approaching the finish line were those people I described above -- they were not running just because they could, they most likely had a reason for this run.

One last note, for many people, the Boston Marathon is the meta-goal -- the marathon that will mark their personal best just for qualifying.  I hope that they understand that in our hearts, they are all finishers -- whether they passed the line before the blast or not.

My heart goes out to all the runners, their loving supporters and all the people of Boston.  And I hail the way you all came together to help each other proving the strength of our union.

May you all be at ease.

RIP Sal Castro

Monday felt like three days in one, and I had to take a nap.  I woke to terrible news: Sal Castro died.

I am sensitive to loss right now, perhaps too sensitive to be reliable in terms of news.  But I have to say that my heart sunk, and the sense that there is a hole in our world with his loss overwhelmed me.  Tears stream down my face as I write this.

One summer over twenty years ago, I sat in a library devouring every piece of information I could get about the Chicano movement.

One of the people I read about was Sal Castro: a teacher who supported his students who wanted access to an education that would prepare them for college.  He went to jail, lost his job, and kept fighting.

Fast forward about ten years, and I met someone who knew Sal ... she shared an office with him at LAUSD.  It was a little office the district conceded to a man who though retired still worked tirelessly for Chicano students.

When I entered his office, he called me mija like he had known me my whole life and was so proud of me and my accomplishments.  He told me about his work, the leadership camp he still ran out of Camp Hess Kramer, the camp at the bottom of the hill from where my mother grew up.

It was as if we were connected in some way, and, of course, we were.

We sat in his office and laughed at Villaraigosa trying to insert himself into the blowouts history and trying to use Sal for political advantage.  We laughed and shook our heads like we were old friends, not strangers who had just met.

Sal was larger than life with the biggest heart -- an ex-football player who could give you a bear hug and make you feel like an integral part of his life even though you've just met.  What touched me the most, sitting in front of this living legend, was his humility.  At one point, he pulled out a binder to show me the collection of pictures and stories he kept in his desk: Chicanos who made him proud.

He invited me to the next leadership camp, and I attended as an HSF rep at the college fair, but I also drove out to attend some of the sessions for the students.  I witnessed Sal on stage, preaching his love of our culture; I saw him mentoring not just the high school students there as campers, but also the college students who were the counselors.  There in front of me was textbook of how to make sure a movement has a legacy.

The Blowouts were an important part of the Chicano movement, in my opinion, because they originated with the students.  Sal's role in the movement was not limited to his mentorship and being a role model to those students. 

What Sal saw in those students was their desire to learn, and in the situation, a district more willing to fire him than provide access to a college prep education.  He knew that the end of the story was not getting his job back or putting away the criminal case against him.  He knew that students would continue to need to be bolstered and supported towards their dreams.

Last spring, Mario Garcia was at UNM promoting a book he just completed with Sal.  Sadly, Sal was not with him.

But in the discussion following the presentation, someone asked what the legacy of Sal Castro was, and I stood up.

I am one of the many pieces of his legacy.

My teachers in middle school were the generation who went to college in California because Sal's first students stood up, walked out and then went to college.  Those teachers were the ones who helped to understand what it means to be Chicana.  It was as a student at one of the many satellite leadership camps that resulted from Sal's work that I became Chicana.

Sal didn't solve the problem and issue of unequal education in the LAUSD, but he never gave up fighting for the students' right to a better shot.  And many of his students continue the struggle just as they began it.  Sal's greatest legacy, perhaps, is the sense of responsibility he instilled in his students -- and the circle of giving back that his students have taken up.

I have never met a man so proud to be Chicano. I might not have agreed with, or been able to pull off, Chicano history as motivation as Sal did, but I believe that he was, indeed, proud of the way I was carrying his legacy forward, helping students find their way to and their place at college.

Over the years, the number of lives and hearts that Sal touched is surely innumerable.   I can only hope that those of us who carry his torch will continue to remember and call forth that memory for those who are yet to come.


To Sal's family -- a heart felt thank you for sharing him with all of us for all these years.  I am sure he could have *really* retired and just spent time with his family, instead he continued to nourish his community, infusing pride in all he met.  My heart is with you.

Sal, may you rest in peace -- though, I am sure that if there is a heaven, you are already holding court.  I hope that you and my brother are hanging out -- I so wanted him to meet you.

It was an honor to know you.  La lucha sigue.

----------
After I wrote this piece, I read an article about a woman, Maudelle Shirek, who was on the city council in Berkeley for 20 years -- after she turned 70!  RIP Mrs. Shirek, and thank you for never giving up your principles or the fight. 

Rollercoaster Days

For several months, I have been trying to get myself back on an exercise schedule. Most days, I turn over and go back to sleep, but some MWFs, I pull myself out of the bed and head to the gym with my workout buddy.

Last Wednesday, I did just that ... when I first looked out the door to see if my buddy had arrived, I saw that it was raining.  Actually *rain* was optimistic.  When I got in the car, my friend assured me it was snow. 

I had a pretty good workout -- between the treadmill and the elliptical, I got in over 3 miles -- but I didn't feel so well when I finished my workout.  I had some chest pain that didn't last, but then I was coughing and coughing.  By the time, I got home, I realized it was an asthma attack as I wheezed and tried to catch my breath.

When I went to the health center to make sure I was doing the right thing with the inhaler, the dr. on duty didn't want to take any chances, so they hooked me up to an EKG machine.  Satisfied that my heart was okay, she suggested I try the attachment to the inhaler to make sure the medicine really gets in my lungs.  As a non-regular user, I am not very skilled at the inhaler.

My days have been going like this ... run, run, run, run out of steam and crash or keep going until I can't anymore because my to do list is still too long.

In between these seemingly low points, punctuated with little breakdowns that began the waterfall of tears, I have also had higher and high points.

Here is one ... one night about two weeks ago, I was watching the local news and they were talking about missingmoney.com (where you can search for unclaimed funds in several states).  Despite the fact I thought the server might be inundated, I checked it out.  Well, there was my name and an old address in NJ.  I filled out the form, but then it asked for my ssn and I was worried it was an elaborate plan to steal identities.

After some quickly googling, it turned out to be legit.  I submitted the form not knowing the amount or where it came from or anything.  I figured I might not even hear back from them, so what the heck.  They sent an email back to me with a link to check for updates.  A few days later, I checked back and it said they had verified I was the person I said I am and were processing a check.  About a week ago, I got a letter from the State of NJ saying they had found some unclaimed pension funds and they were sending them to me with interest accrued.  Then a check arrived for over $700... score.  It will replace the two months this year I did not get to transfer funds into my Italy savings account!

Then I did my taxes and for the first time in four years, I don't have to pay!  Score, again.  More funds for my Italy fund. Another high point amid the regular craziness of life.

Blessings come when they are least expected -- and they are greatly appreciated.

time and space and tears

As I tried to compose myself enough to read the six pages of my presentation, I wondered: when will talking about my family not make me cry?

It was probably an unfair question because I was at the oral history conference where one person after another shared stories about loved ones they had lost either physically or mentally ... perhaps I was just drawn to those stories surely all of them couldn't have been about the same theme.

I was there talking about my quest to find out something about my grandmother's life before she came to California and met my grandfather ... etc.

I had written about the frustration and the hope and the holes that still plagued my story.

It seemed like an upbeat rendering with promise for the future. 

But looking out at the crowd that included my sister and cousin, all I could think about was my brother and the stories he wouldn't tell.

All we have left are what we know and our speculations. 

I don't know why, but that hurts.

So, when will it stop hurting?