Book Review: Necessary Trouble: Growing Up at Midcentury by Drew Gilpin Faust

Necessary Trouble: Growing Up at Midcentury by Drew Gilpin Faust
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Parts of this book seemed like a mirror to my own past, even though I am at least ten years younger than the author. However, I did grow up in Virginia and the attitudes and experiences she describes are so familiar that I could hear them in my head as I read the words. Her writing could have been just as applicable to my older cousins, who also participated in some of the civil rights volunteer work as Dr. Faust. I looked up to them as if they held all the wisdom of how to navigate the rapidly changing world.
But, alas, of course they did not.
To her credit, the author was very often in the right place at the right time to be a part of some history-making events, such as the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery, and Dr. King's commencement address to the Bryn Mawr Class of 1966. She convincingly portrays her own engagement with civil rights and anti-war efforts in language that is authentic and compassionate. I do try to hear the voices of baby boomers who may be the exceptions rather than the rule because as a whole, this generation largely abandoned those early dreams for capitalist-inspired ones.
And though the author clearly has her faults, I am grateful to be able to read her story in the context of the times it describes as events unfolded. The writing is crisp and self-aware, even self-critical at times. Through it all this is a story of a young woman coming of age in an era of unquestionable privilege, who slowly realizes that it is her call to do what she can to do better. She fearlessly travels with a student group behind the Iron Curtain to wage peace and converse with real individuals living in completely foreign situations. She takes what she learns and applies it, even realizing that college may not be her best option for ultimately fighting for social justice and peace, but she does it anyway because it is expected, and she does sprinkle those at-the-time radical ideas throughout her college papers and essays.
I like this young near-radical Drew Gilpin. Seen through the lens of years, Dr. Faust does a remarkable job of making her real and relatable. I'd just like to know what comes next, how she navigated the years after graduation, as she assumed her career as a historian and author. Perhaps she'll humor us with that story soon.

Thanks to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for offering the free review copy in exchange for an honest review.

View all my reviews

Hating America

Innocent children accused of rape who would serve years in prison for a crime they did not commit.
Image from New York Daily News Archive/NY Daily News via Getty Images via The Guardian.

We can do better than this.

In a thoughtful, engaging piece in The Guardian, Oliver Laughland reminds us of the charade some folks are currently watching in a dangerous flirtation with "what if"?

Donald Trump and the Central Park Five: the racially charged rise of a demagogue

Mr Trump is not funny.

The ridiculously and perhaps initially humorous fact of his claiming to be presidential material and actually throwing his hat in the ring is not funny anymore, if it ever was. It's a narcissistic whomping of our collective social consciousness in a self-centered, hateful attempt at grabbing control of the overwhelming and abusive level of power that odious old white men used to have in this country.

And it just has to stop. We were doing so well in spite of their carping, insidious obstruction to one of the finest Presidents in the modern age. Trump's bid for the presidency must be called out for what it is. It is no longer just okay to ignore the clown car and hope it will fall of the cliff through its own refusal to look where it's going.

See, they think they see where they're going. They have a fixed vision of the world they hope to re-create, and it's very, very ugly.

It's not a world we want to live in again.

And in case this isn't obvious: they don't want us to live there either.

They want the future all for themselves. They have no intention of sharing.

So if that's what anyone believes, we need to disabuse them of that irresponsible and childlike notion.

See, it's pretty clear that anyone who thinks Trump has an answer that will make their own life better who is not a member of the .01% who own most of the wealth in the entire world is not thinking rationally. It's a misguided belief that if the rich are richer, they will share some with us. That doesn't happen in real life, and most of us know that.

There's no such thing as the proverbial Santa Claus. remember? Santa Claus is the people who love you. He's not some fat white guy with bad hair and an eye-popping wardrobe who works his ass off to bring you and all the good boys and girls treats and toys one night a year. That guy is an elf, and There are No Such Thing as Elves.

Except the people who love you, of course. Does Donald Trump love you?

Unless you're covered in gold and are ready and willing for him to take it, then no, Donald Trump doesn't love you. And he's not bringing you any presents.

Donald Trump is the guy who's going to take all your presents and keep them for himself. He's the Christmas Thief. Unfortunately, he doesn't just steal things from people who don't deserve them. He steals from anyone who is stupid or desperate enough to do business with him and a lot of other people who never met him and have nothing to do with him.

We must denounce every single person who thinks what Trump and his ilk are doing are okay. It's so not okay. It's wrong, and it's dangerous to overlook that wrong in an attempt to play nice. He's not going to play nice, he's going to lie and cheat and steal his way forward for the rest of his life. He doesn't know how to do it any other way, poor guy.

And we can't let him have our country. Too many people have died to keep us free. As Yusef Salaam, one of the Central Park Five, says: "What would this country look like with Donald Trump as being a president? That’s a scary thing."

How many more will die if people like The Donald keep committing statutory rape against our economy, our civil rights, and our common good?

What would that world look like, in all reality?

We've been there, guys. We know exactly what it would look like. Please tell me we are too smart to go there ever again.

Compliance is all they ask. It's all they need. All that evil needs to succeed is that good people sit by, and do nothing.

So we gotta aim to misbehave, you know? Every time that golden hair flap appears in public, somebody send some chewed-up bubblegum its way, okay? We need to be relieved of that thing. He's got a thing about baldness. He hides behind the fear and loathing we all have of our true selves. He doesn't have the right to do that, you know - not unless we give it to him.

We need to show that this would-be Emperor is as naked as the day he was born. As naked as we all are.

He's not the leader we need. He's not a leader at all. He's a masthead, a figurehead for perceived wealth and class and privilege. He's a charlatan, a con man, and he's counting on you buying the tinsel-covered pack of lies that he's selling.

He's telling you to help him steal the freedom right out from under you. He wants us to exchange places with those who went before us, and died for that freedom. He wants you to give up, and let him take the reins, so he can drive that golden chariot across the sky while you shiver and dry up below him choking on your mass-produced Turkish Delight.

It's the oldest trick in the book.

Don't fall for that. Be the beacon. Point to the earth, and the sky, and the people around you - the ones who love you - and stand up for the truth and help others do likewise.

You,
It's you and me,
It's you and me won't be unhappy.

"C'mon, baby, c'mon darling,
Let me steal this moment from you now.
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,
Let's exchange the experience, oh"

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

--Kate Bush, Running Up That Hill

We all got problems. They won't be solved unless and until we stop looking to rich people in power to do it. We've got to do it ourselves, we've got to hold hands, work together, help each other, and elect people who do likewise -- who really do love us, who have demonstrated by their actions that they love us, and they'll do right by us, and will do their damnedest help us get out of whatever mess we are in. Who won't be one of those people who take what we have and keep it for themselves, even though they already have so much they don't know what to do with it all.

Don't be so blind that you cannot see good when it's right in front of you.

Arrest photo of young activist Bernie Sanders emerges from Tribune archives

In America, we think differently, we act differently, we live and work and play differently from each other, and that's supposed to be okay. We believe different things and our homes and families reflect that. We've come a long way to get here. Today it's okay to love whom you love, and marry that person so you can be happy together for the rest of your lives.

These things irritate some people. They make it complicated. In order to live in this country effectively you've got to have an open heart, open eyes, and open hands. You've got to be willing to accept the fact that your experiences are not universal, that your life is very different from your neighbor's and sometimes an entire world away from someone on the other side of the street. Yet we are all Americans. We belong here. We're part of the system and society.

This is how it should be.

But for those for whom these ideas are complicated, this is perhaps a threat. They feel threatened because part of their way of life is at risk. If everyone really has an equal chance, the outcome they want might not happen - because that outcome benefits them. They see life as a struggle to make sure their outcome happens and their neighbor's does not. They use fear as a tool to try to get you to buy into the outcome where they have all the power and they might give you some autonomy to do what you want - as long as it doesn't threaten what they have and want.

They are very good at using fear. We've got to stop seeing the fear as an adversary, and start using it for what it is: a tool. Turn it around, point it right back at them. Make them see that what they fear is actually you. It's us. It's our freedom to do and give and love whom we want and live as we choose; it's our autonomy.

Strip that fear naked and look at it for exactly what it is.

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.

We all know the horrific things nations accomplish because of fear - you know them, you can name dozens. We are better than that.

We are Americans.

The terrible thing about fear is that it is so easily inflamed and becomes hatred. For whatever reason, hatred tends to get things accomplished. It builds walls. It makes rules to control people's differences. It makes wars.

We are better than that. We are Americans.

"Freedom has many difficulties and democracy is not perfect, but we have never had to put a wall up to keep our people in, to prevent them from leaving us." --John F. Kennedy
Berliners didn't build that wall. Fear and hatred did. That same fear and hatred that you and I feel when we think about what we might lose. We need to shun that fear. We need to laugh at the hatred so it will wither in shame and die, writhing.

"Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free." --John F. Kennedy, Ich bin ein Berliner speech

Who benefits when people are not free to live and love and work and play and be who they are? 

Who, indeed? 

The only people who would benefit are those who hate who we are, how we live, the way we love, because it means we think for ourselves, and cannot be controlled.

Who benefits when people are controlled, when choices are limited? 

The people who are doing the controlling, so they can limit our choices to the things they, and they alone, offer.

These people are not, and should never be in, government. Government speaks for the people and does the wishes of the people, not the other way around.

Commerce can be a lively thing, when it's a healthy exchange and is equitable between the parties. It can be manipulated so it draws from one to give to another. When one party is clearly drawing more and more from everyone else it is anything but a healthy exchange; it's a disease. It's a sick system that needs our attention to fix the inequities and the only thing that's going to do this is to elect responsible representatives and keep watch over them.

Government for the people, by the people, and of the people is not something to be squandered because of fear and hate. But it needs a lot of love to counteract the fear and hate, to balance the squandering manipulative parties and to re-distribute things equitably according to need and actual contributions. It's easy to see a successful businessperson as a good and intelligent person because that's who they want you to see, and if they're controlling the outcome by limiting your choices you have no opportunity to vote your conscience. But they cannot limit your voice. They can limit your opportunities but they cannot touch who we are.

We are Americans. Do not hate us because we are different. We can be divided by our differences, but then we will fall, and always have. Hopefully we learn from our failures. 

Hopefully we have not learned to hate ourselves because of them.

Love us, love America, believe in our goodness and celebrate our differences, or we will simply cease to be Americans.

Equal Opportunity for All

Today we honor Dr Martin Luther King, Jr, who fought for equal rights and opportunities for all people, no matter their race, color, or creed. He was adamantly supportive of fair labor laws, and warned against deceptive practices designed to diminish the value of individual workers.

     “In our glorious fight for civil rights, we must guard against being fooled by false slogans, such as ‘right to work.’ It is a law to rob us of our civil rights and job rights.Its purpose is to destroy labor unions and the freedom of collective bargaining by which unions have improved wages and working conditions of everyone…Wherever these laws have been passed, wages are lower, job opportunities are fewer and there are no civil rights. We do not intend to let them do this to us. We demand this fraud be stopped. Our weapon is our vote.” —Martin Luther King, speaking about right-to-work laws in 1961

Not to take away from the celebration of his life and work, but we still have an awful lot of work to do. Some would say that the best way to celebrate Dr King's legacy is to continue to fight on for better conditions for all workers, everywhere.

Aside from fair labor laws, perceptions must be addressed that harm a worker's - any worker's - ability to prove themselves. These perceptions include those about age. I wrote about this awhile back, recognizing that the best way to destroy perceptions that limit our opportunities is to refuse to bow down to them.

Five Things that Make a Difference in a Later Career Job Search

Revisiting this particular issue, because it's been a few years and it's apparently still a thing - perhaps even more so.

A recent PBS Newshour segment further elucidated the general public on this problem. Clearly, it's still a great idea to de-emphasize the length of your work history in favor of highlighting skills, accomplishments, and knowledge. In fact, this is where those of us with long work histories should be shining. After all, with years of experience we've had enough time to gather rosebuds and honors in bulk. Instead of listing each one in chronological order, we have the distinctive capability to pick and choose among the best of those.

Don't let some of the general public's perception of older women be the rule: that is gender bias at work. In study after study, the facts remain clear: there's no good reason for this. Women often work harder, persevere longer, think more creatively, juggle priorities and tasks more skillfully, and are better at focusing efforts toward a positive outcome than men. Why wouldn't we be able to continue being valuable, productive members of any team as long as we wish it?

Why, indeed.

In an article published by the John C. and Nancy D. Whitehead Chair in Economic Studies at the Brookings Institution, Dr Gary Burtless, of the Center for Retirement Research at Boston College, describes his study that makes it clear that aging does not affect productivity. In fact, his research shows that older workers frequently command a premium wage that reflects their contributions to the workforce.

Unfortunately, in a time of hard scrutiny of a company's bottom line, this premium - even well-deserved - can be a factor in a decision to hire a new, older-aged worker. Sometimes, we are forced to agree to wages that are competitive with those earned by younger workers, or lose the job. Counter-acting these decisions may not be something that is in everyone's control. Only by demonstrating repeatedly how well we do can we expect to change the perception that our value may be diminished by our age.

We must continue to educate ourselves, to diversify our incomes, to seek out opportunities to cash in on our knowledge and experience. One way to do that is to publish. Another way is to teach. Of course, the wiser employer will encourage knowledgeable, experienced employees to mentor and demonstrate to younger, less experienced. However, we can't always count on this. As employers continue to pare back (whether or not it is in anyone's best interests, even their own), we cannot limit ourselves to what "the market will bear." The promise of capitalism isn't The American Dream, no matter what we once believed. It's just a chance to compete. That is all.

The American Dream is the fact that we actually can imagine ourselves better.

What does this mean, exactly? To be quite honest, it's a myth that creativity and imagination coupled with hard work that leads toward a better life exists solely in the United States. It's a human challenge that frankly, other countries do just as well, perhaps some even do it better. The real challenge for all of us no matter what our age is to do our best, every single day. Some days will be better than others. Some days will plainly be forgettable.

Don't settle for less than your best, every single day. And it's up to you to define exactly what that is.

Source: National Geographic

Black Friday Monday

Post up at Daily Kos, here:

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2015/11/23/1453557/-Black-Friday-Monday

look. just - look.

Post by Matt Martin.

the anarchy of dreams

Links I am reading while my mind cogitates:

http://main.nc.us/books/books.cgi?thecominganarchy-shatteringthedreamsofthepostcoldwar

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33691.The_Coming_Anarchy

https://www.nytimes.com/books/first/k/kaplan-anarchy.html

http://www.blueanarchy.org/celestial/

http://www.awesomeyourlife.com/2012/03/love-anarchy-are-what-keep-your-dreams-high-stakes-and-thrilling/

http://cvilleanarchism.wordpress.com/

http://www.anarchistnews.org/

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/08/03/krugman-if-you-arent-outr_n_249813.html

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2006/05/23/212822/-If-you-aren-t-angry-you-aren-t-paying-attention

http://theamericanscholar.org/every-last-one/

http://www.akpress.org/

http://theanarchistlibrary.org/

http://anarchyisforeveryone.blogspot.com/2008/06/call-for-submissions-anarchism-and.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Masque_of_Anarchy  /  https://ia600309.us.archive.org/23/items/masqueofanarchyp00shelrich/masqueofanarchyp00shelrich.pdf

http://www.acorncommunity.org/

Hope: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hope

The Principle of Hope:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Principle_of_Hope

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Revolt_of_Islam

Murder and Forgiveness

For now we see in a mirror dimly, 
but then we will see face to face [1Cor 13.12]
[Image credit: publicphoto.org]

It has been a little over nineteen years since two sweet innocents sank into the bottom of a man-made lake in South Carolina, sent there by the woman who carried them in her womb. Susan Smith's story changed us all, mothers and fathers and families alike. None of us were unaffected, and yet, looking back, it is perhaps time we saw the lake as a mirror, and recognize our own reflection within it.

As a society, although individually we may strive toward good, we are none of us innocents. We should acknowledge, as Beverly Russell did, that there is a seed of capability to do great evil within us all. We owe this woman forgiveness, and until we do this we can not move on toward reconciliation, and we will not be able to realize our great responsibility to our children to ensure they grow up in a safe, loving world, full of possibilities.

When the word first came out that this mother had done the unthinkable, I remember being in the grocery store with my then 7-year old daughter and my son who was about the age of the youngest Smith child. Strangers who passed by my shopping cart reached out toward him, fastened safely in his little seat, to touch his head and to grasp my hand, wrapped protectively around him. "Take care of that child," some would whisper. "I can tell you are a good mama," others would say. I saw friends of mine from church, also young mothers, and we reached instinctively toward one another, asking, "How are you? Do you need anything? Is everything all right? You know you can call me," our eyes searching deeply within each other's, trying desperately to re-validate the safety net of community that had been rended and torn by the news.

We all knew that sometimes we are only a breath of time away from losing it ourselves, and we needed to know that we could stop it from happening if we could only remember we are there for each other, to help shoulder the load.

Before Susan Smith's trial and the facts and analysis that would come out of it showing she was a desperate, troubled individual with a past that some of us could not fathom or relate to - we young mothers knew. Only the grace of something greater than ourselves up to that point had saved some of us from recklessly destroying our greatest and most precious gifts, that of our children and ourselves. For some horrible reason, that grace had failed a young mother, allowing her to send her children, her flesh, her blood, to a watery tomb. And I think that our shock and horror allowed us to separate ourselves after a time from this recognition, in order to move on and to be better parents.

This had to happen. But it is time now to take the next step, and forgive her for her actions. To recognize as a society that we had some hand in this undertaking, and to heal and to move forward toward ensuring that infanticide does not have to happen, that we recognize the warning signs and stop this evil, desperate act from taking place ever again.

***

We know better now, how ill and wretched this young woman was. We know, and we must recognize, that she was manifesting the symptoms of the classic murderer of her own children. At that time only trained specialists knew and were capable of seeing in; indeed it is what helped them to guide Susan Smith into confessing her great horrible deed.

Driving alone at dusk [Image credit: publicphoto.org]

But we all should know now. It's been nearly twenty years. Surely we can recognize that she was at the apogee of human error and selfish grasping for attention, love, and acceptance for who she was and what she was at the time: a lonely, depressed woman whose inner child grieved for the father she had lost, and who could not, for whatever reason, accept that now she was a mother, with limited options.

It's sad, but true. As her life gained complexity, her future seemed to dim, and the possibilities voiced in the letter written by the lover who rejected her probably seemed like a carrot too far from reach. She lashed out, angrily, at what seemed to have slipped away while she was busy attending to her greatest accomplishment: motherhood. She was confused, and oh so empty, and her fear allowed her to believe that emptiness was permanent.

We have all felt like this, at some time or another. Fortunately, most of us have resources and loved ones who help us see the folly of that belief, and can show us the good and lovely opportunities and choices for good in our lives, so that the fear and loneliness and rejection do not last.

Susan Smith did not.

Why?

Why, when she looked around, did she only see a situation that further estranged her from her best self? Why did she want to end her life, and that of her children? And what, if anything, could have been done to stop it?

I will reflect further on this as time allows. For now, I want to just think about this rationally, given the facts as we know them. I'll write more as soon as I can.


***

Update on the 20-year mark of this event in The State newspaper

The Mists of Ideological Time

The League of Ordinary Gentlemen is the sort of blog where thinking folks go to discuss the issues. Sometimes the debate over there reminds me of my father's den, where his students, friends, and folks from our church would come to debate the issues of the day, which in that time were civil rights, politics, and the lessons of history. I was a small child then, too young to take part, but I often listened from the other room. Looking back, it is fascinating to realize how important it was that my family was free to invite people who wanted to discuss the things they felt were important to continuing the right of self-determination, and to understanding the things they may or may not have experienced in their own lives, and so to apply current events to their own search for truth and justice. It was, in short, good preparation for the decade of the 1980s, just to be sure we were aware of the potential of our species to destroy itself. Rational folk won't generally self-destruct, and yet individuals and civilizations do it all the time. How does that happen?

Recently, there was a post at the League that asked a question that brought quite a bit of discussion. (See The Incredible Shrinking Candidate, by Tod Kelly) It was posited that the Republican party behaves as if the "real Mitt" isn't there. By refusing to answer direct questions that are pertinent to his experience and belief, the writer posited that Mitt Romney is hiding his true self. And he wrote that he thinks it's the fault of the far-right wing ideologues of his party and their largely successful efforts to get him to fall into lockstep with their true-believers path, which (he writes) history clearly demonstrates is not the path that Mr. Romney has followed - and that the Tea Partiers should back off. Mitt should be allowed to be Mitt. Essentially the author asked, if the "true Mitt Romney" were allowed by his party ideologues to be truthful about what he really might offer - both his experience as a businessperson, his family values, and his political savvy - wouldn't we like that person? Might we vote for him?

To that I have to say - hogwash. We're seeing the real Mitt. Tod Kelly is missing the forest because he's looking for trees that aren't there, he's looking for substance where there really is only mist. What happens when the mist lifts? The light of day, folks, which shines on the garbage can in the backyard, the front walk that needs sweeping and the grass that needs mowing, just as it all did yesterday. The mist isn't really obscuring anything at all, but we like to pretend that it does, because it's soft and poetical and all and covers up what we'd really rather not deal with at the moment.

Here are the facts: It's clear that Mitt Romney has followed the course of action throughout his entire life that he's following now: that of choosing whatever option he thinks will get him what he wants. All narcissists can appear to be gentle, benevolent gods when they choose - it's part of their charm.

Mitt Romney would be the same paper president he was at Bain Capital, the same leader of the Salt Lake Olympic squadron, the same governor of Massachusetts - taking the road that at the time paved the way toward looking good on paper and in rare public appearances, but disappearing at the first puff of the wind of substance.

Meaning that, voting for Romney as POTUS would mean that his cronies would be the ones calling the shots, directing his paper-doll stance, pulling the strings of his puppet arms. Mitt is the perfect non-candidate. Don't think for a moment that he's actually responsible for anything except carrying out the wishes of the entities filling his pocketbook. He's meaningless and hard to pin down because that's the person he is.

Mitt Romney is the worst kind of person in the world: a classic narcissist who thinks he has a god-given mission to lead the United States (please research his religion, specifically the white horse prophesy if you doubt it), who will always act in his own best interests, and the world be damned. He has delusions of grandeur and believes that he is destined for greatness not only during his time here on earth, but in the afterlife. The shifting sands of his character are ingrained, and have served him well as far as prosperity goes. The thought of him at the helm of the biggest ship in the world means that if he believes hitting that iceberg will land him in heaven's realm, and in the meantime array his family and his own self in gilded heaven-on-earth glory, well then - it's all a part of his god's plan.

Put another way, imagine Mitt Romney at the controls of a 747 headed for the World Trade Center. He'd never hit that building, right? Look again. There's a guy who looks like Mr. Romney sitting in first class holding Ann's hand. They look around and smile, chat up their neighbors, full of charm and class. Then Mitt looks at his watch, and they bow their heads and start to pray. Paul Ryan's in the pilot seat, and he believes that building is full of liberal Democrats, lesbians, and abortion providers. Mitt is smiling and dreaming of the afterlife. No wait - that's actually not Mitt at all. The real Mitt is far away on an island in the Caymans.

Now what would happen? Yeah, I'm joking. Look closer.

Then there is the Tea Party. Fortunately there are other folks who've gone the extra mile to put the naked truth about them before the American public, so I'll share this clip from Aaron Sorkin's amazing new show, The Newsroom, where the truth is told as "fiction."

We can stop this insane bunch of crass, self-serving idiots. We must vote. Take the day off to do so if you must, but do not leave the polls until you have cast your rightful, individual VOTE. I understand that there are some places where it may be difficult to do so. How many have been disenfranchised in the past in this country, through trickery? More than one is too many - but there have been many, many people who were unable to vote because they stood by while this opportunity was literally stolen.

I have seen instances in my lifetime, in the past decade, where voting machines were moved - while voting was actually taking place - from high-minority, low-income, inner-city districts to predominantly white, wealthy, suburban ones so that there was a dearth of machines in the minority low-income districts and an unnecessary plethora of them in the wealthy, white districts; many of those machines were absolutely empty and unused during the remainder of the election. This forced many to have to leave to go back to work before they'd had a chance to cast their votes. I have stood in line to vote while poll workers went down the rows handing out cards and demonstrated how to vote a straight Republican ticket - and yes, there were unenlightened people who honestly thought they were simply being shown "how to vote." I have been there while people who were legally registered were turned away because they didn't have - or refused to show - a "proper ID."

This is America. No one has the right to do this to us. Stay, vote, and don't back down. Don't leave. Cast a provisional vote if you have no other choice. But Do. Not. Leave. Your future, your children's future, depends on your exercising the right to VOTE. Do not let them turn this country into the third world nation they can control, because that is what they want. That is what they believe God wants. They think we are stupid, and they do not respect us or the democracy they were born into. They are misguided, they are armed, and they are dangerous.

Fifty years ago a similarly high-minded group of politically-charged individuals led by a single charismatic mouthpiece spewing venomous hate went after innocent folk in the name of protecting our American shores from "communism." The McCarthy era was responsible for ruining hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives, and amounted to publicly-sanctioned ethnocentrism and racism. This time it's worse: there are dozens of charismatic mouthpieces spewing racism, misogyny, lies, and hate. They assert that our GOD is on their side, and because of that they ask us to doubt our conscience and look the other way while people who shout fear and hate take over our government. They are asking us to abdicate our democracy, and for those of us who refuse, they are doing their damnedest to take away our right to self-determination.

We should know better. Hate is hate, patriarchal control is control outright, and it preys on our fears of that which we do not understand and don't want to admit to our lack of understanding - and we should never allow it to cloud our vision. We must not give in to the claim that it doesn't matter who wins. It matters. We must not abdicate our rights as an informed electorate. To do so will result in the loss of everything our democracy stands for, and will effectively negate our Constitution and our way of life.

Don't let them take over our government again. We probably won't get it back if they do. But don't let this scare you. Let it strengthen your resolve. There is really absolutely nothing to fear except fear itself.

This election season, do not be confused by the vapor surrounding the truth, obscuring the things they really don't want you to see. Step through the mist, pick your way carefully over the rocky shoals hidden underneath the gloom of doubt and suspicion. VOTE.

Further ruminations on the heresy of Mormonism at the New York Times.

Gov. McDonnell Signs Mandatory Ultrasound Bill

The photo is of me about 16 years ago, with three of my children and one on the way.  As you can see,  we enjoy studying and re-enacting the lifeways of the 18th & 19th centuries in America. My children know more about the experience of our forebears than most history teachers, because they've lived it.

Today, as the mother of four beautiful daughters, one son, with a delightful granddaughter and another grandchild on the way, I am extremely disappointed in the actions of the Governor and the Virginia Legislature that limit women's access to reasonable and prudent health care and place unreasonable restrictions that intrude into the confidential trust and privacy concerning procedures that are only appropriately made between a woman and her health care provider.

Modern health care made it possible for me to have children spaced reasonably apart so my body could recover. Prescription birth control helped my doctor treat ovarian cysts, critical bleeding, and endometriosis.  I am healthier because of it. Moreover, I know had I really lived in the 18th century, I would not have survived my condition. I have the option and luxury of studying the lessons of history from the vantage point of modern understanding. I'm not certain many of our legislators even know what that is.

The legislature - and certainly no MAN - has any right whatsoever to intrude into women’s private health care matters.  I chose to give birth naturally to all five of my children, and even chose to give the first up for adoption at birth because I was still in school and too young to be responsible enough for her.  She was raised by wonderful, loving parents, she found us when she became an adult, and we are grateful for her and all of our children.  However, I still defend to the utmost any woman's right to choose not to give birth, through whatever means she and her doctor deem reasonable and in her best interests, and I will not stand by and have any access to health care denied because of intrusive, invasive, and unreasonable legislation.  My choice to give a child up for adoption was the most searing, difficult decision of my life, and I would not force that decision on anybody.  Every woman must have the choices available to her that make sense for her body and her situation.

No procedure should be dictated by an uninvolved non-medical entity, most especially the Virginia Legislature and government. I am very, very disappointed in our governor, senators and representatives and will voice my dissatisfaction in the voting booth.

Thanks to Planned Parenthood of Virginia for keeping this issue before the hearts and minds of the public.  Hopefully a day of reason is not far off, in spite of legislative efforts to the contrary.

If you would like to add your photo and story, please see Planned Parenthood of Virginia's tumblr.

Email Governor McDonnell

I just emailed Governor Bob McDonnell of Virginia.  He has the despicable mandatory ultrasound-waiting-period bill on his desk to veto or sign by Friday, March 9.

Feel free to copy/paste any of this as applicable to your situation and do likewise.

Email Governor McDonnell

Representing myself as I am was wiser than anything else I think I could do.  I decided to have my children, and gave one up for adoption (who found us as an adult) because it was the right decision for me (and for her) - but I will defend to the utmost anyone's right to have control over her body, and to make the correct decision for her own body and situation.  No one - especially any male - has the right to decide what is best for us.

The text of my email is below.

Email Subject:  A caring mother of five
As a caring mother who has five wonderful children, I am asking you to uphold the rights of women in the Commonwealth to reasonable access to necessary health care, without burdensome regulations designed to foster confusion and intrusion into the private realm of matters that are only between a woman and her doctor.

Veto HB 462.  If this measure is passed, it will most certainly not withstand the first court challenge, and will waste unnecessary taxpayer dollars, as well as hours of valuable time, better spent protecting the rights of citizens to reasonable, consistent, and necessary health care.

Thank you.

Review: Why Men Fall Out of Love: What Every Woman Needs to Understand

Why Men Fall Out of Love: What Every Woman Needs to Understand by Michael French

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Mr. French seems to have a lot of rather misogynistic notions about women - but then it happens that a lot of men seem to as well. He attributes a lot of power and control to us that I'm not sure is actually valid - but then, I'm a woman and by definition I'm not going to understand why so often men do attribute so much power to us when we feel helpless and manipulated by just the type of actions and circumstances the men in this book describe. Still, I'm finding this book helpful because it gives a purely male view toward what causes relationships to fail, and that is what I was looking for in order to better understand my own circumstances. I do not have to agree with all of what he says in order to gain insight and value from it. French does an excellent job of presenting a list of very well-illustrated reasons why men may have difficulty in relationships, and this information will help me to be more effective in my dealings with people of the opposite sex, as well as have empathy toward them and perhaps not be so likely to feel hurt by them. Understanding, respect, and open dialogue about the inner landscape that leads us to act and feel the way we do about others is the canvas on which he makes a case for more effective and ultimately satisfying relationships between men and women. After all, it's the inability of the sexes to communicate effectively that is at the root of most of our failures, and this is a point he makes rather well.



View all my reviews

"That Day is Coming"

Awhile back I found this article fascinating and thought-provoking. It doesn't actually even have a title, but it attends to the subject of out-or-not-out gay actors with sobering insight.

Gay Actors in the Film Industry - A History Lesson

After you've read that, hop on over to the LA Weekly News and read this amazing interview and article with Hollywood publicist Howard Bragman, who assists gay performers who want to come out to do so in a sane and effective way.

The Secret Lives of Queer Leading Men

Quote from the article:
The publicist hasn’t brought out an A-list, gay male actor — yet. But Bragman says that day is coming, and after the first superstar decides to reveal himself, a fundamental shift in American acceptance of gay leading men may not be far behind. He’s currently working with a famous musician who’s still closeted from the public, but who will come out next year. And the manager of one major movie star approached Bragman a year ago and asked about his client’s possibly going public, but the actor still refuses to pull the trigger.

“I felt a little frustrated with that superstar,” Bragman says in reflection, “because it had to be ‘handled.’ ”

I have a lot to think about these days. Seriously, there has to be a way to engender support for honesty. There just has to.

I hope you all are well and happy out there. Think about this with me, won't you?

The Fox Goes Out on a Chilly Night

Polanski freed from jail.

Not to clutter up the internet with more words when others have said it better, just want to say I agree with this post, and the subsequent comments are worthwhile reading.



Pic links to Awards Daily's list of signatories and mentions ONTD's impertinent discussion. Image ganked from here, also worthwhile reading.

The Fox
The fox went out on a chilly night
and he prayed for the moon to give him light
For he'd many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o
Source: traditional

No one, in the song, really cared about the chickens, because the hungry pups were so cute. And everyone knows that predators survive on victims, it's the way of the world, the natural order of things. Circle of life, all that.

And everyone feels for the fox who got away, and goes to ground with his prize unpunished, even celebrated for this accomplishment. He lives to steal another day. I guess it's really no wonder some idiots out there confuse this with the basic value of art, or something.

There is, of course, a difference.

The fox steals food in order to survive. Roman Polanski steals innocence and dignity for his own self-gratification. Steals? Yes, steals. Present tense. He's stealing it as we speak, because everyone who reads and understands the root of this story and then looks at his smugly unapologetic face will come away from the experience a little smaller, a little less hopeful, maybe even a little more desperate. It makes us feel sick to know how the system failed here. To say nothing of the victims of his past, who every day have to pick up and go on without the innocence and dignity that he tore out of them to satisfy a manipulative desire for erotic power.

Ugh. Spare us from those artists who would seek to paint this with an equally manipulative and selfish brush, and who thus share equally in stripping humanity of its innocence and dignity. This leaves us all as the children of Dickens, Ignorance and Want, with the same certainty of ultimate emptiness... which, in effect, robs us of the Art, as well. As we watch this year's latest incarnation of A Christmas Carol, we might be thinking about that.

Creative Minds

Hai guise.

I'm posting here - for a change - because what I have to say fits more in line with what I'd originally set up this blog in order to do: comment on the state of the world at large, and maybe social, geographical, economic and environmental things specifically.

I was asked this morning by my boss to read an article by Richard Florida (The Rise of the Creative Class), published in The Atlantic, entitled, "How the Crash will Reshape America." Our little town of Sumter, SC is participating in Earth Day's "Spotlight Conversations," which is kind of a big deal.

As I read, I found my lips curling as I imagined Jim Kunstler's reaction to the article. Seriously, I wanna toss those two in a room and just listen to what happens. It could be kind of explosively awesome.

Even more awesome would be if Osha Davidson chimed in and gave his 45 cents worth.

hee.

NEW SPN TONITE. At some point I really still need to write that blog post about how the Impala is awesome and may actually save the Universe. No, really.

Also - I never blogged about election day in Horatio, South Carolina. I really am fail.

Learn. Remember. Pass it On.

THE ULTIMATE SILENCE
October 12, 1998



Listen to the mustn'ts, child.
Listen to the don'ts.
Listen to the shouldn'ts,
The impossibles, the won'ts.
Listen to the never haves,
Then listen close to me ...
Anything can happen, child.
Anything can be.

~ Shel Silverstein

Ten years ago, Matthew Shepard was murdered for being homosexual.

What will you do to end the silence?

Click here to post this on your own page or weblog

Interview with the Bishop

Church Times has unlocked this previously locked interview with Gene Robinson, the openly gay Episcopal bishop for the Diocese of New Hampshire.

I found it interesting and provocative. I've long thought it was a shame the issues had to come to this juncture. I encourage you to read, and ponder. Most importantly, he says to please keep communication lines open. That is the material point.

Earth Day 2008

Image source unknown
Do what you can. Live as you must. Be the Beacon.

"The Star Thrower," A Sermon, The Very Rev. Samuel T. Lloyd III, National Cathedral, Spotlight on Global Warming 2006

Here are a few links to peeps on my sidebar who are doin' it right, or at least doing their best:

Resources:
Awakening Earth: Voluntary Simplicity
Blackle: A Black Google
Chick in the Country
Eat Wild! Your source for Local Grass-fed Foods
James Howard Kunstler
Leonardo di Caprio's Eco Site
Osha Gray Davidson
The Sustainable Communities Network
Treehugger
Urban Agrarian


Passions, Causes, Crusades:
Compassion in World Farming
Congaree Land Trust

Measure your ecological impact at www.conservation.org/ecofootprint!
Earthjustice
Earthskills
Environmental Defense
Environmental Law Institute
International Conservation Caucus Foundation
The Land Institute's Prairie Writer's Circle
Local Harvest
Southern Environmental Law Center
STOP Factory Farming
The Trust for Public Land
Valley Conservation Council


Blogs of Note:
Fragments from Floyd
Method: People Against Dirty
Mossback Meadow
Nature: The Wildlife Blog
Near Sea Naturals Blog
No Impact Man
Working for Change: Working Assets blog

and sunrise greets the dawn

Image courtesy Wright and Associates

Society Hill. Cashua. Darlington.

And - just so you blend in and aren't immediately branded as "you ain't from here, are ya?" - that's Cash-euw-ay. Not Cash-eu-uh. Say it soft and let it roll off your tongue like sorghum syrup, smooth as the serene Pee Dee River itself. I haven't really been there yet, but it's on the list.

Society Hill is the little town where the crew goes for a special meal during the Kolb project. It used to be just the way it sounds - and in a matter of speaking, still is. Gracious folk come out laying platters of barbecue, vegetables, cakes and pies down on a table around which gather the scientists, who for one night are treated like family no matter from whence they hail. Most of them are not from the South, and many are young, in their third or fourth year in a University program, and in general have a slightly bemused attitude toward the natives.

Many are older, and have been here many, many times, or now call our state home. They let them stay, as long as they behave and are respectful of their elders, and don't forget that no matter how long they live here, they will never, never be natives, and there are certain subjects therefore that they will never understand and opinions thereon may be tolerated out of respect for a friendship, but will never be shared.

We know ourselves and our idiocyncracies and foibles, and are comfortable with them. Thank you all the same.

I did not attend this meal, but I always hear about it. One of the ladies makes certain my husband's favorite, Key Lime Pie, is on the menu. They all get a taste of the local 'shine, and are expected to render an honest opinion on its vintage as compared to the previous year. They leave with full bellies and humble hearts. The outpouring is a bit overwhelming, for they are essentially strangers and infiltrators, yet the locals treat them with kindness and hospitality usually reserved for family and the closest of friends.

As little as some have, it is still wondrous to know there are places where a handshake is as good and enforceable a contract as a registered document at the courthouse, and the fact that someone looks you in the eye while you speak means that not only will he remember you, but your words as well, even if several months pass by and you do not speak. So I smiled as I listened to the team still expressing gratitude and astonishment at the bounty spread before them earlier in the week. And I was reminded of arms laced over a community well-fed, bustling with purpose, accomplishment, peace, and generosity.

As previously related, I left early the next morning. In the seat of South Carolina auto racing, I stopped to refuel at a corner market. A neatly hand-lettered sign on the pump caught my attention, and I squinted in the reflected sunlight to make it out:

Welcome to the Corner Connection
Due to drive-offs, we ask
that you please pre-pay for
gas after dark. Sorry for your
inconvenience.

The attention paid to politeness and sincerity was as clearly etched in those words as the pleasant expression on the attendant's mouth as I entered the store. A small man with a merry face akin to a hobbit's, he bobbed behind the counter talking smack with a big man in pursuit of a lottery ticket while I paused at the counter display of pre-packaged donuts, bear claws, and other disgustingly sugary substances. There was no way I could eat that stuff, so I moved over to the aisle where the pretzels were stored, forgetting one major facet of small-town life, even as it was drifting into my ears, my eyes roaming inattentively across the shelves.

"Hey there good morning," the clerk spoke to me, savoring the words with a long, sweet essence of kindness in each syllable. I looked up and waved, then ducked my head down again. Uncomfortable with strangers, especially males, I resolved to get something quickly and get out of there. I could eat real food when I got back home, only about an hour away.

"Gimme one of them educational tickets, the green ones," the big man spoke up.

"Yeah? Gitcha in trouble," was the affable reply.

"I don't care."

The clerk continued to greet each customer in like manner: "Good morning, there." "We sure appreciate your business." "Come back now, anytime."

As I type these exclamations now there is no way to communicate the warm hospitality and plain goodness in the man's speech. I heard it, and it cracked my shell. Tentatively, I approached the counter, laying a bottle of orange juice down and a pack of Orbit gum.

"Do you happen to know where I can get a biscuit around here?" I asked. I gestured vaguely down the road in the direction I was headed.

"Why, we got the best biscuits you'll eat right here," was his reply, and I was immediately struck with my stupidity. Of course they did. This was the "Corner Connection," after all, not a big BP Plaza. I'd chosen it specifically because it was NOT a franchise market, and its neat appearance bespoke respectability and pride in honest work. You find these all over the south, if you'll just look, mind you. You out-of-towners ought to broaden your horizons, and try the local fish. But as I was sayin'.

"Do you wanna plain biscuit, nothin' on it?" He gestured toward the back and also along the heated window just to his right, where neat packages containing portable breakfasts waited neatly, exactly --and i do mean exactly as my grandmother made, and a few extended cousins still do, to take along to work for those who must do so in the mornings. I knew in those wax-paper wrapped shells lay the melting-hot goodness of homemade biscuits with scrambled eggs, sausage or bacon, and the hot sauce was sitting right there at my elbow if I cared to embellish it a bit.

"I think I'd just like a plain biscuit, thank you --oh," as I saw him walking toward the kitchen, I faltered.

"'Melda - do we have anymore o' them biscuits back there? Nice lady out here wants a plain one." He fairly danced on the tips of his toes. I knew the woman back there, whoever she was, had been up with the sun like me that morning, only with a purpose of mind that led all the way down to her fingers, and in turning out fifty or so breakfasts, she'd already done a days' work, and was in the midst of scrubbing up. I could not do that to her. Or myself. Sheesh.

I closed my mind against things like cholesterol and fat calories. Today was a day. The end.

"No, no, that's all right." I waved at him, staring at the case and spying the answer I was looking for. "Do you have any sausage ones, made up?"

He turned, smiling. "Sure do." He opened the case and a heavenly smell poured out. Ohmygod. Yum.

He grasped a hefty one and popped it into a little brown bag, handing it over with what I knew to be his trademark smile, tho' I'd never seen him before and likely wouldn't again. "That's the local Weinberg's sausage," he added with satisfaction.

"Well, I love that," I responded. I had no idea, which fact added to the word "local" consummated the decision for me at once.

"Do you? It's good, " he said, nodding as he took a bill from my extended fingers. He rang it up promptly and handed me my change.

"We sure appreciate your business. Come back anytime."

"I'll do that. Have a lovely day." And I went out into the morning, a treasure in my hands and heart. In the car, I opened the paper and bit into the softness of the biscuit, reveling in the spicy flavor of the homemade sausage on my tongue. So good. Moist. To hell with factory-sized hog farms. Waste of resources, pollute the watersheds. This was heaven, and you can't get it from industrial hogs. (I should have stopped at the farm-store when I saw it on the way out of town and picked up several packages for the next time I make cassoulet. Nothing better, and there's more in common between the family Provencal and these Darlington-area farmers than you'd think at first. It's all about taste.) These babies were raised spoiled as hell, living fat and happy off the land until the day they died, and the sweetness of their existence underscored for me the expanded meaning the words, "family business" have for me now.

Just as the word, "primitive" now evokes a mindset evocative of grace and peace, where food and goods and services touched by human hands are still evident, "still in the family" means they haven't let go, haven't sold out, someone still rises every day to greet the dawn expending hours of energy in just doing what they do best, working at an honest trade or purpose, where the sounds of birds calling and cows lowing and the wind in the grasses frame a lifestyle where you can still hear the heartbeat of the earth.

Truly the light is sweet
and a pleasant thing it is
for the eyes to behold the sun.

And I started up my car, and drove home, unabashedly poetic about the fact that I'd just put $20.00 in my gas tank. These days of multiple-miles-per-hour travel like this are ending, drawing to a close, and I am saving up memories to recall for the future. I am where I am supposed to be. It is life-affirming to come into contact with people for whom, in spite of the Internet (and I love it so), in spite of rampant commercialism, in spite of the assimilation of a mass-market cultural freakism by so many other places, there still remain those with whom I share a deep cultural connection, with whom it would be silly to compare notes, because even though we are separated to a vast degree by education and political views, we line up exactly to the nth degree on what matters most.

Community is worth saving - and there are so many communities, even those intrinsically associated as Darlington is with a sport like auto-racing, who remain diversified enough, close enough to the ground and still interlinked with their agricultural roots, that they will be saved, they will endure, they will survive and go forward to the next thing that awaits. The keys to their future lay within their past, and in their vast inner wisdom, they never lost it. Again I have to say it: We will be fine.

Amen, even so come, Lord Jesus.

dialogue across a chasm

Statement from Bishop Mark Lawrence in response to the recent ENS article on the Presiding Bishop's visit to South Carolina

I have read the recent article from the ENS regarding the Presiding Bishop, The Most Reverend Katherine Jefferts Schori’s visit to the Diocese of South Carolina. It was a gracious and accurate description of much of our time together. Indeed, there was a warm hospitality which we were most intentional in cultivating through our prayers and our hearts. What the article failed to convey, however, is the depth of the theological chasm that lies between many of us in South Carolina (and others within the church for that matter) and the trajectory of so much of the leadership of The Episcopal Church. To explore these cavernous depths is indeed the great work that lies before anyone in leadership today. Along with showing hospitality and witnessing to God’s work among us, the earnest exploring of this chasm was and remains one of our chief objectives.

--The Rt. Rev. Mark Lawrence

Audio Recordings of the Presiding Bishop's Visit to the Diocese of South Carolina

eyeing the soapbox

you all know i am not a pundit. i do not run my mouth (or my fingers) very much about politics. i can't predict the immediate future, only basic trends over time. so i'm never very much good at saying anything useful about mundane things like political primaries.

but after yesterday, i just have to say: YOU GO, GIRL. Here are the numbers. for the first time, we are sending a woman to the convention who has an actual chance of making it.

this is important.

our society has a history of squashing women who do not fit the mold we make for them. hilary, unfortunately, too often for my taste DOES fit that mold. she's a tough, unyielding bitch. good for her. we made her that way. but you know what makes me happiest, and makes me really feel good about liking her?

she didn't forget how to feel, when it mattered. thank you, mrs. clinton, for NOT being too big to cry. you had me worried there for a bit, i was sure you were too much one of the boys to remember how to find your own feelings. here's a hug, and a pat on the back.

congratulations, you earned it.