Friday, July 18, 2008

Happy Birthday, Nelson


90 years... today.

You can read Nelson's birthday message to the world on the title link, and learn a little about his foundation.

In his message, Nelson reminds us that if we have, we should give because others don't have.

I just want to mark his birthday and the richness of his life and the better we are for having the great opportunity to share the world with someone like him.

Coincidentally, I was reading about another remarkable man this morning...

Since I didn't know who he was, I am guessing others don't either, so I thought I would share his story.

We have so much more than we realize that we can share with others.

If you haven't donated to your favorite charity yet this year, today, I challenge you to dig into your hearts and pockets and give something, anything. It feels good, I promise. Especially in these times of financial distress, when you choose to give of yourself it makes everything you do have all that more meaningful and all that you don't have less important.

Still not convinced? Listen to this about giving and receiving.

Happy Friday.

Love in the Time of Cholera

Photos courtesy of New Line Cinema

Benjamin Bratt and friends arrived in my mailbox in the form of Love in the Time of Cholera right before I left for Seattle. I knew I wouldn't have enough time to enjoy it before I got on the plane, but I didn't want BB to be sad and lonely at my apartment (I haven't taught my turtle to use the DVD player, yet), so I handed it to my friend who drove me to the airport and asked her to keep BB company for me.

When same friend picked me up at the airport upon my return, she handed the movie back to me with a big smile on her face. I asked her if she had enjoyed it thinking by the look on her face that she had, but I had no idea ...


She had watched it with one of her pretendientes -- one who has been waiting in the wings for quite a while and has been getting quite a bit of play lately. Though he doesn't match all the items on the checklist, he has figured out what she likes and continues to surprise and entertain her. We joke that she is the equal opportunity dater -- she's kissed a lot of frogs, or at least let them take her to dinner -- but she is on a mission to find the one. She does cut them loose if they are not compatible -- or she can't check off the items on her list.

In any case, she said that the movie had made quite an impression on her suitor -- she realized this when she found his tongue down her throat. I have been first hand witness to my friends pretendientes (not this scene, obviously) and have yet to witness one that was not completely captivated by her -- so I was not convinced that it was really the movie.

Then I watched the movie for myself. I can see where it would be a motivator.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

The Golden Tiara

Several years ago, my sisters and I devised a plan: get my mother to give up her longing for a big 50th Wedding Anniversary party. We are not opposed to parties and we understand how much my mother loves the idea of being the belle of a ball. Let's be fair. She and my father eloped to Las Vegas back in June of 1958. We have never been able to get either of them to give us an acceptable reason for this choice of nuptials, but I suspect it is because as much as my mother loves the idea of a big party, my father doesn't see the value. Since both my parents are the children of the depression, this kind of argument is hard to beat. But, they chose to elope while my grandmother (mom's mom) was out of the country; and even when they did celebrate their marriage in church two weeks later (the anniversary we celebrate now), it was a very small, private affair.

Understanding all these facts and many others that I don't feel like further enumerating, we still thought that having another faux wedding for them was not the best use of funds. Or the most enjoyable, for them or us. So we set about the task of convincing my mother to give up her secret dream (as she had not asked for a party or announced her determination to give herself a party) of a big, fat Mexican anniversary party. At the time, we were all living through the weekly update about Mrs. Rubio's party.

Mrs. Rubio (with her husband in tow) generally meets my parents and aunt and uncle for breakfast after church on Sundays. [At least she did up to the time that her famous party was about to happen. The falling out between my aunt/uncle and the Rubios that led to them not breakfasting is another story -- and I am not clear on all the facts, so we will leave that to another time.] Each week, Mrs. Rubio would regale my mother and aunt with stories about the party planning: the venue, the band, the food, and, of course, the recuerdos.

With every recounting of Mrs. Rubio party planning, my sisters and I could see our future making recuerdos for my mother's party. Keep in mind that we had just given my mom and dad, each respectively, 70th birthday parties. Each received the proper amount of hype... my dad's party was at our house with his siblings, closest cousins (because otherwise there would be TOO many) and only the friends my mother tolerates. My mom's party had to be in a hired venue with decorations and "catered" food -- on our moderate budget. Of course, there had to be recuerdos, though we settled for table centerpieces that would have to be claimed by only one guest at each table.

It was a lovely birthday party, with budget catering, budget mariachi (local high school group) and budget decorations. Still, it put us all back a fair amount of time and money ... and it lasted a whopping three hours before all of the my parents' contemporaries were too tired to go on. It must be said that my mother could have gone on all night... it was a party, she wasn't tired.

I am guessing that she figured it out, too, because when we suggested that we take a family vacation instead of a big party she didn't refuse right out. She put the condition that all the children would have to commit -- part of the appeal is that we have never taken a family vacation with all of us present. We suggested a cruise to Alaska so that my father could also be cajoled into being excited about the trip -- his first reaction to any such suggestion is to say that he doesn't want to go. I continue to tell my mother that she should always give him this type of news as a declarative statement rather than as a question -- but she wants him to be excited, so the drama continues. In any case, everyone agreed... at least it appeared that way.


I was in charge of researching cruise lines and reporting back to my siblings on prices, itineraries, etc. It would be high season if we were to be there over their anniversary... and, of course, this was non-negotiable. A good friend, and former colleague from my travel agents days, helped us through the process. We found the perfect cruise ... Seattle to Seattle Inner Passage on the Golden Princess -- yes, the LOVE BOAT. Seattle to Seattle was important because it meant lower air fares for those bringing their whole families instead of just themselves. It was a compromise because as retired folks, if we had started or ended in Anchorage, my parents could have actually toured Denali as well, but my mom wanted us all to be there.
So, I will leave most of the drama out of this story, but in the end, the two families opted out and my sister came by herself and my brother chose not to come. But, my cousin Ben did a formidable job as a big brother stand in! I was just telling him that since I am the only one who really gets along with my brother, it's just as well that he chose not to come.

Well, a cruise on the love boat is just what the doctor ordered to make all happy in the group. My father and my brother (the one that actually attended) were thrilled with the venue, as was my brother's girlfriend. Cruising isn't in our blood, my parents were the only ones who had ever cruised before -- in fact, it was a three day cruise we sent them on for their 40th anniversary. I am not sure what we were expecting -- though my younger sister, cousin and I made exercise pacts before we got on the ship knowing that it meant a lot of food.


We didn't realize just how pampered you would feel on the boat -- a godsend for us because my mother might as well have been wearing a golden tiara all week long -- there were so many people making sure that she had everything she wanted, was always happy and satisfied and otherwise feeling like the belle of the ball for SEVEN days in a row. At one point she turned to me and asked if our travel agent had chosen the ship specially for her, the Golden Princess, since it was her 50th? No, but she might as well have.


My younger sister and I also did our best to make sure that my mother was not missing out on any of the trappings for the actual party. My mother booked and paid for her celebration herself before we ever got on the ship, but we made the recuerdos -- as a surprise. My younger sister calls them "cochinadas" -- I call them "tiliches" -- but either way, they are the kind of thing that means a lot to my mom and not that much to most people. We spent a satisfying afternoon at Michaels, chose heart boxes, anchor decorations, gold spray paint, small wooden replicas of a cruise ship, scrap booking pieces, small glass vials, gold ribbon -- just the right one, it took a while to find it -- and penguin and polar bear charms. We spent a late night spray painting (and I say "WE" generously) the boxes and boats, writing on the vials and boxes once dried. Then more time affixing the anchors, attaching ribbons with dangling animal charms. I bought super fancy chocolates for the boxes, and we tried to decide what to put in the little vials. We imagined putting some sea water from one of our cruise stops... but hadn't really made a final decision. The answer revealed itself at the end of our hike in Skagway... as were counting our blessings for finding our way back to the trail head, we rested on a bridge over a beautiful creek. My sister looked down into the water and asked my cousin to pick up the sparkly fools gold. My younger sister and I looked at each other and said... that's it!! Let's put these rocks with their sparkly flecks into the vials!! We emptied one of our water bottles and started scooping pebbles. My cousin produced a little ziploc (he has a well stocked backpack) and filled it with our bounty. We floated down the hill, two days ahead of schedule, we would have all the recuerdos finished.


At the celebration dinner, my dad decided he wanted to make a toast, and choked up telling us how surprised and pleased he was that we had all decided to celebrate with them. This was an unexpected gift to all of us. That is exactly the way of my father, he likes to give gifts when he sees something he thinks would be perfect for you. He is thoughtful in that spontaneous in the moment kind of way though he may not acknowledge your birthday for years. It was perfect, just perfect.


This is what the boxes looked like (above you might be able to glimpse the little vials and the gold boat on the table!
All in all, it was the perfect anniversary celebration for all -- my mom was well taken care of, my family engaged and amused, my father happy to have his kids all together.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Gourmet Dinner

... thanks to the organic farm box and the local gourmet grocery store ;)

wild ahi tuna steak -- seared in sesame oil with a little salt and white pepper

red potato mashies -- made all the tastier by boiling with fresh sage and onion
(with skin, a little olive oil instead of butter, a little nonfat milk, salt and pepper: white and black!) Thanks, Kelvin, I modified your recipe a teensy tiny bit...

purslane (aka verdolagas) -- sauteed with garlic and onions

sourdough baguette

a little rose of zin

YUM...

Sorry I didn't think to take any photos before I DEVOURED my dinner!!!

Monday, July 14, 2008

preview

After several hours wrestling with the canon website, I found a posting online who could tell me how to download the software that would release the photos from the camera. {Becknell -- YOU ROCK!}


Needless to say, I am out of time to actually compose a thoughtful post, but I thought I should share a couple of the shots I got on the first day.


Keep in mind that I have never used a digital camera; I didn't have a manual; I didn't think to practice before we got to Juneau...


[Backstory: a good friend had her husband send me a digital camera that they were no longer using so that I could take pictures in Alaska with something other than my camera phone. I hustled around looking for a 1gig compact flash memory card -- no small feat -- because it is the largest memory card this camera can handle. I found it on the Thursday before I left for Seattle to catch the boat!]


This is where I would like to make my new summer home (the first of many I wanted to claim on this trip)...



The family enjoying a little togetherness on the whale watching trip; note there were at least four cameras in our family taking in the views.

Here is the Mendenhall Glacier


This picture is just ok... it cannot capture the majesty of this incredible place!

More soon... maybe I can even figure out how to "process" these photos!

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Life

I was looking for a quote this evening, and stumbled upon another of my favorite Kahlil Gibran meditations, from The Garden of the Prophet.

I share it with you, with love.

And one spoke and said: “Master, life has dealt bitterly with our hopes and our desires. Our hearts are troubled, and we do not understand. I pray you, comfort us, and open to us the meanings of our sorrows.”

And his heart was moved with compassion, and he said: “Life is older than all things living; even as beauty was winged ere the beautiful was born on earth, and even as truth was truth ere it was uttered.

“Life sings in our silences, and dreams in our slumber. Even when we are beaten and low, Life is enthroned and high. And when we weep, Life smiles upon the day, and is free even when we drag our chains.


“Oftentimes we call Life bitter names, but only when we ourselves are bitter and dark. And we deem her empty and unprofitable, but only when the soul goes wandering in desolate places, and the heart is drunken with over-mindfulness of self.

“Life is deep and high and distant; and though only your vast vision can reach even her feet, yet she is near; and though only the breath of your breath reaches her heart, the shadow of your shadow crosses her face, and the echo of your faintest cry becomes a spring and an autumn in her breast.

“And Life is veiled and hidden, even as your greater self is hidden and veiled. Yet when Life speaks, all the winds become words; and when she speaks again, the smiles upon your lips and the tears in your eyes turn also into words. When she sings, the deaf hear and are held; and when she comes walking, the sightless behold her and are amazed and follow her in wonder and astonishment.”

And he ceased from speaking, and a vast silence enfolded the people, and in the silence there was an unheard song, and they were comforted of their loneliness and their aching.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Vacation Exhaustion

Back from Alaska, but extremely exhausted.

Promise to post... back post, forward post and pictures.

Just not now.

Sunday, July 06, 2008

Fireworks in Seattle

As I watched the fireworks exploding in the sky it was still hard to grasp that it was the Fourth of July -- long day traveling, exercising, little to no sleep, worried about family dynamics and, finally, seeing an old friend -- someone I hadn't seen in 16 years! -- it just didn't feel like Independence Day.

What was independent about it?

Maybe it was that I was feeling a little closed in from the tip of the iceberg on family togetherness... I was trying to balance the need for compassion and open mindedness and the distinct sense that I was in for seven days of no alone time.

Perspective: this week is all about my mom and dad... everything else is and should be secondary.

Universe: send as much compassion my way as possible.

Friday, July 04, 2008

Memory Postcard

Mountain tops shrouded in clouds that are more like mist/fog though we are far from the ocean now which is where my mind goes when I see that kind of fog/mist.


Underneath the clouds -- these may be smoked induced -- there may be trees and roads and even snow but all I can see are the vague outlines of sleeping dinosaurs covered in a blanket of clouds .


--from the airplane near Shasta

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

summer flurries

Friday I get on a plane for Seattle and then Saturday, I get on a boat bound for Alaska...
so the summer flurries are here... flurries of activity that is.

We have been planning this trip for TWO years. You would think that I would be better prepared for it by now. We (the family sans one brother who is clearly too good for us) are going on this cruise to Alaska (aboard the LOVE BOAT, of course) to celebrate my mother and father's 50th wedding anniversary.

Yes, you read correctly 50 YEARS. Who knew anyone stays married that long anymore... I thought as I counted how many years I would be celebrating TODAY (my un-anniversary -- maybe anti-anniversary? not sure which is more appropriate since I am obviously not anti the concept) if I hadn't liberated myself from the tortuous marriage several years ago. [14 years, if you must know, yes, 14 years to this day I made a big mistake - hopefully the biggest mistake so that I don't have to go anywhere near that disaster again!]

Just a taste of what is going on... (from my to do list)
Drop off dry cleaning
Pick up dry cleaning
Buy Chocolates (For the "favor boxes"!)
Print Wedding Photos (mom and dad's wedding photos)
Pick up Photos at Walgreen (mom and dad through the years)
Buy Camera Memory Card (Thanks, Rosio and Gabe, for making this possible!!)
DO LAUNDRY
PACK
Clean turtle's tank
Buy turtle MORE fish (she has eaten $5 worth of fish in the past five days... )
RUN at least three times this week (um, need to get ahead of cruise food)
Walgreens or Longs run
Find HANDS FREE set -- free on distributed in Alameda THURS morn
Set VCR to tape faves (I know, how retro of me...I don't have cable, so this IS the only alternative)
Charge Ipod
Download PodCasts!
Get BOOKS from the library (I listen to ipod while reading, too)

I only listed the items that are pertinent to the trip... embedded in the actual list are MANY MANY more items that must get done before FRIDAY at 7am. Not the least of which is finishing some of the draft blogposts!

Happy Wednesday! [How did it get to be WEDNESDAY so soon????]

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Finally...Movie Gold

I have a love/hate relationship with netflix. I put all these movies on my list... movies that I want to see. Really, I do. But then they get here and they are generally downers. I am taking responsibility for the selection; I'm just saying.

So, the movies get here. I refresh my memory on the movie and then it sits on my tv until I feel guilty about paying for movies that I don't watch.

Lately, I have been trying to choose movies that won't make me want to slit my wrists. But this is very complicated for me because I am not sure which those movies are.

I look through the comedies and almost throw up imagining myself watching most of them.

You see, I am not amused by the same things that most movie goers find funny. And some of the situations that others find fall on the floor funny only inspire a gag reflex in me.

Perhaps you can begin to understand my difficulty.

I was watching some other movie, which I can no longer remember, and there was a trailer for a movie about a lady who really loved her dog. It seemed sweet and quirky and, well, promising. Well, it turned out to just be WEIRD. Let's just say that she becomes a nearly terroristic animal rights activist as the result of the plot twists and turns. Not sweet. Not quirky. Not light in any sense of the word.

I had read some reviews and heard some good rumbling that I vaguely remember about Waitress. I had a good enough impression that I added it to my netflix queue a while ago, but it was way down there in the 40's and seemed like I would never get there.

I did some rearranging of my list and put anything that said comedy near the top... sprinkled with some dramas with hunky actors like Benjamin Bratt. But when the movie arrived this week, I worried that it would be weird, too.

Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. I have to say that Waitress has got to be my favorite movie ever, at least for now. How can you tell, you may ask yourself. Well, I watched every last extra and contemplated starting it all over again!

Of course, then I started to write this piece before I had seen all the extras and then found out about Adrienne Shelly's death (the writer/director/actor of the movie). It didn't make me like the movie more or less, although it did make me want to cry. I cannot imagine the void for her husband and child. Selfishly I grieved the fabulous movies this woman had left to make and gift to us. What a terrible waste of insightful talent. I am grateful to Ms. Shelly's husband for starting the Adrienne Shelly Foundation to give other talented women the chance to make great movies. I wish I had a million bucks to give to the foundation! Maybe, someday.

I had already decided to end the post with Andy Griffith's character's admonition. But reading about Adrienne Shelly reminded me why I got divorced... and is reminding me to live every day as though it were my last and best day. If you need a reminder why we should treasure life, just watch this movie. I would tell you why I really love this movie, but I don't want to give away anything if you haven't seen it. Thanks, Adrienne... you rock.

This life will kill ya. Make the right choice. Start fresh. It's never too late. Start fresh.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Rolling Around My Head (and Heart)

I had to pull it out and read it because the words have been rolling around in my head (maybe my heart)... I could be walking down the street and for seemingly no reason, I would hear these words:

And let the best be for your friend
If he must know the ebb of your tide,
Let him know its flood also.

For what is your friend that you
should seek him with hours to kill?

Seek him always with hours to live.

And in the sweetness of friendship
Let there be laughter and sharing of pleasure.

For in the dew of little things
The heart finds its mornings and is refreshed.
--Kahlil Gibran


Maybe it is because lately I have spent so much time thinking about friendship and the way people relate to each other.

Not sure... but since my heart has been singing these words, and I am letting them out.

The universe will decide what it means.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Why is it wrong for women (especially Black) to be angry??

Michele Martin breaks it down... as usual.

Thanks, Michele... as someone who is frequently accused of being angry when I am just being passionate or emphatic, I appreciate you challenging the concept.

Michele rightly asks why it's ok for white men to be angry? Also, being angry doesn't seem to limit white men's access to power. It seems more likely that "angry" is the epithet you throw at women when you worry that they are too powerful or that they might actually get some power (and wield it).

Ultimately, though, Michele wonders why we all aren't angry. {see my new favorite song for more about this.}

By the way, if you can't handle me passionate and/or emphatic, then you don't want to make me angry.

bring in the heavy equipment...

to dig out these posts.



I thought I had more to say on each of these, but it turns out I was just not ready to concede.

Our incarcerated nation...with a headline like that, who can not comment?!



The safety of women (and children for that matter)...and what our justice system doesn't do about it.


I know, all lovely and light topics... what can I say, this was all before I started to look for HAPPY things in the newspaper!

Thursday, June 19, 2008

dynamics

My mother is not a dog person. I almost wrote not a pet person, but I have to say that she enjoys her birds (even though they annoy the hell out of everyone else) and her turtle (before my father decided that Bright Eyes needed a new home).

Growing up, we were always allowed to have some sort of pet, but my mother always seemed to be barely tolerating them. My father, on the other hand, always developed some deep relationship with our dogs and birds and, well maybe not, the snakes etc. My dad was the one, however, who always protested that he did not want another pet, especially not another dog. His argument was that they always ended up as his responsibility, and as such, he ought to have the right to veto getting another one. That would make you think that he didn't like having pets... but now, looking back, I think it is just that he didn't like to get attached to them.

Animals love me. I think I get the not being a dog person from my mother. I dislike pets that need to be NEXT to you all the time or that want to jump in your lap or, ick, lick your face. But, animals love me. I can walk into a stranger's house, and if there is a dog or a cat, it will be sidling up next to me trying to get my attention. My sisters are extreme dog lovers. I mean extreme. In a way that makes me cringe... I swear they love their animals more than people. One of my brothers prefers cats to dogs, but basically they are all animal lovers.

I am considered the anti-animal lover... but it's not true. I adored my bird Aloysius ... and we had an understanding. He stayed in his cage unless there was some need for him to be out and about. We didn't need to be constantly together in order to love each other. I thoroughly enjoy my turtle. And we have a real connection despite all the people who don't understand that a turtle can connect with a human ... read: they only get dog/cat to people relationships. Somehow there is some secret line that non-dogs and non-cats cannot cross in those people's worlds... well, they just don't get it, but that's a topic for another post.

In any case, animals love me, always want to talk to me, and well, I would rather that they do it from a distance. I think dogs should live outside where they can be, well, ANIMALS rather than turned into appendages. Those are my personal feelings on the subject, so whatever. And, I always thought that this was a point on which my mother and I could agree. Being that there are so FEW things upon which we agree, I was pleased to imagine that it was so.

Then my younger sister got Lola and left her at the house for my mother and father to take care of like some grandchild. Lola is a rather small dog, so small and un-dog like that you might confuse her for a miniature deer or large rat. She is a miniature pinscher/chihuahua mix. Visualize it. I don't have a photo handy. Lola is needy and whinny and just generally a brat. Oh, and she loves me... she will stand at my feet and cry...hoping that I will give her one ounce of attention despite the fact that I have explained to her MANY times that I don't want her to sit on my foot or my lap or next to me, or anything. Not in a box, not with a fox, not on a train, you get the picture.

Well, my mother LOVES Lola. It's not surprising that my father loves Lola...he's a pushover. But, I NEVER thought I would live to see the day that my mother would LOVE LOVE LOVE a dog. She loves Lola so much (and misses her now that she's moved far away) that she got a dog. Now, granted it has taken two years and someone else to shell out the dollars for the dog, but now she has her own little not-dog dog.

LUCY. I haven't seen her, but I will provide the descriptions I have been given, and you can attempt to visualize. My father states that she is "cute and woolly." My mother says that she doesn't really look like a chihuahua. She has green eyes and red hair, hence the name, though there was apparently controversy in the naming (perhaps better left for another post). When pressed on what does she look like, my mother says, "She's Heinz 57." Huh?! My mother explained: "she's a little of this and a little of that, well a lot of things." As far as she knows, part miniature pinscher and chihuahua (like Lola) but also miniature dachshund and maybe more, who knows. I had no idea what she was talking about with the Heinz 57, though I mentioned it to my friend, Mary, and Mary says, "oh, she's a mutt."

Well, as if the fact that my mother now owns a lap dog wasn't enough to shake what little foundation I thought I had with my parents, my mother also announced that my father was out making a house for the stray cat and the kittens she gave birth to in the backyard. What's even more confusing is that my mother referred to them as "his cats." -- ALL OF THEM?!

Ok, so the guy who never wants to have pets again has decided to adopt five flea riddled cats? Um, what have you done with my father?? He doesn't like pets because he doesn't like to get attached and now he's attached to cats that are strays and just as likely to wander off as they are to stay and get fleas everywhere??

Yeah, I was puzzling about it for awhile and then I decided that my dad needed to keep things balanced. So, if my mother was going to have a lap dog, then he was going to claim the cats. It is the only notion that is keeping me sane at the moment. Not sure if it's true, though.

Oh... and boy is Lola going to be angry when she comes to visit and is forced to meet and interact with Lucy. Roll the cameras for that one!

Monday, June 16, 2008

hmmmm

While reading this interesting story about Michelle Obama and her experience at Princeton, I was particularly struck by this piece:

Since graduating, Obama has not returned to the Princeton campus. But after leaving the college behind, she found a way to resolve her dilemma while remaining true to herself. [my emphasis, of course]

And the clueless question asked of me by another Latina who attended an ivy a few years after me: "You didn't have fun at Princeton?" You will have to imagine the incredulity in the voice. I won't further characterize the voice because I need to follow Thumper's father's advice.

But, I can tell you how I felt.

I wish that Princeton had been more inviting socially. I wish that I could have walked through the experience feeling welcomed, integrated and accepted. I was card-carrying involved. I didn't hide in the shadows or dive inside a book and re-emerge at graduation.

But, I never felt welcomed or accepted.

This despite the fact that I was on a first name basis with much of the university administration. I was not left out despite the institution's tradition of locking out anyone who did not make an effort to fit in. I won't cop to that. Either I didn't know how to fit in or just didn't care to.

I understand that personal situations colored those first days. It was a whirlwind of being 3000 miles from home (yes, by choice), in a state I didn't know anything about (blissful ignorance or just the way Californians deal with the fact that it's a big country out there), in a climate (weather-wise) that I had never really experienced. It was a difficult transition. You could call my mental state out of sorts on all those levels, not even taking into account that my mother hadn't spoken to me for a week before I left, or that my parents chose not to even accompany me to the airport let alone drop me off at college. [My mother still swears that she was not speaking to me for some other reason than that I was going cross country to go to college and she didn't approve, though we may never know what that "other reason" could be.]

Who knows how I might have fared if on my first day being on campus (literally before the first 24 hours had transpire) the skinhead in my r.a. group hadn't demanded (I know the difference between friendly inquisitiveness and the inquisition) to know my SAT scores.

If only he knew exactly how I got into Princeton... he might have staged a sit-in of his own for the new president.

Instead, he watched (and listened) carefully for the moment I might display my less-worthy-status, ready to pounce. He never got that chance. I am not sure if it is because my guard never came down around him or if I just exude intellectualism. I seem to recall sometime that first week he felt the need to reassure me that I had passed the test because I had used a vocabulary word he had obviously memorized in a way that seemed more obscure and therefore more erudite than he had ever heard someone use it.

I am sure it says more about the people he had heard speaking before me than it does about my use of my wide-ranging vocabulary (I do like to USE 10 cent words). {wink} Either way, that little dance routine did not inspire me to get up close and personal with any white folks on campus.

All I can say is that for me, that early challenge colored my experience. It created a wariness in me that hadn't occurred to me at all before I got on the plane. It certainly did not make me want to bend over backwards to FIT IN somewhere I was clearly not expected to be.

I have returned to Princeton. Not as a flag waving, nazi-youth-sign-making, orange and black wearing way. Making it through meant that I would forever be a part of Princeton not just that Princeton would forever be a part of me. I knew, even as a student, that as an alumna I would have more power than any student could ever have.

Living just around the corner (in Trenton, that is) from PU for 10 years following graduation gave me the opportunity to try to develop a better relationship with the university community as an alumna than I had as a student. I have spent more time in Firestone as an alumna than I ever did as a student using its resources to prepare for courses I taught, to research any and everything and to escape the heat in the summer! I have had the opportunity to take in more of the fascinating lectures than I could ever fit into my too-busy, too-involved student's schedule.

Now, 3000 miles away from Princeton, I participate in the Princeton Prize in Race Relations committee, having found, as Michelle might say, something about which I could finally be proud at Princeton. I am now secretly (only a secret in that I haven't done anything about it yet) plotting to help start an endowment for the Third World Center (which, yes, I will continue to call that til I die not because I have anything against Carl Fields) with endowed chairs for Latino and African American studies program(s)/departments -- hey dreams can only come true if you actually have them and then act on them!

I did go to reunions, once, for my tenth. I couldn't bring myself to attend any of the events without stopping for at least one cocktail -- probably the most traditional Princeton ritual I have ever embraced (the drinking that is). Though not nearly as painful as I thought it would be, I don't have an overwhelming desire to go to reunions again before my 20th.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Powered By Truth

So, apparently the Barack Obama campaign has decided to fight the mud slinging with a truth. They are putting the flashlight/spotlight on the lies by pointing out the inconsistencies and providing the truth ... on the internet (of all places, you know what tenuous relationship we have here with the truth!).

You can go there and read through the ridiculous claims if you are so inclined. Though, I am not sure the people who enjoy wallowing in mud have any interest in actually finding out whether or not something is true. In fact, since they are willing to swallow whole any email chain that has been forwarded as TRUTH without taking a moment to check the facts -- and, incidentally, to send it to their 708 closest friends via another forward -- it is just not clear that they will bother to check this site.

Still, you are encouraged to create your own viral campaign by forwarding it on to your closest email buddies (I did not send out an email -- rather I posted it to my facebook profile. Hopefully others will also post it to their profiles, and in that way, the word will spread without having to actually fill people's email boxes, but you know, whatever works).

Additionally, the campaign has created an email address (I love what they named it: watchdog@barackobama.com) where you can send in any smears and slurs that they might not have heard yet. I would certainly hate to be the one that has the job to check that email inbox.

Finally, they are hoping to catch some new donors who are outraged to see that this is the way we run our political campaigns. So much for democracy...it's all about the ratings, baby.

I am hoping I don't lose my job so that I can donate some dollars to Barack before the election. Keep your fingers crossed.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

action

Sometimes starting is the hardest thing. Just putting one foot in front of the other, or pen to paper. I sit at my desk sometimes with the idea to do two or three things but in the thinking of which to do first, nothing happens.

How do you fight inertia? It is certainly more powerful than my best intentions lately.

Sunday, June 08, 2008

got girl effect?

You should get some if you don't. Thanks to Jen Lemen and her fantastic stories from her recent trip to Rwanda.



If only we all could see ourselves doing something, big or small, to change the course of history -- for the better.

If only we could all feel our power.

And use it.

Sunday, June 01, 2008

the stars in the sky

The skies will be twinkling with a new star from now on. My friend Renea's gram passed away on Thursday.


She will bring a unique sparkle to the night sky. She was a remarkable woman: strong, proud, powerful, loving, accepting, nurturing and enduring.


I remember the pan of bread pudding she made especially for me. Oh... and the shortening bread she made when I expressed an interest. Queen of her castle and graceful hostess ... at the same time welcoming me as though I might be another granddaughter.

I could not understand the exquisite pain she must have felt to lose the physical trappings of her life in Katrina. When I saw her in Virginia, she retained her regal look and her strength, but some of her power was diminished. She seemed a little smaller, but she continued to issue sparks. Then again when I saw her in New York, her discomfort was visible. I longed for the chance to see her once more in New Orleans even if it could not be in her home.

Now I will visit her in my dreams and see her in the brightest nighttime star.

I am glad she will no longer have pain; I am sure her husband is waiting for her on the other side. I am sorry for the world. Without the kind of power and grace she gave us, our world will be smaller, crueler and less beautiful. May she rest in peace.