Don't misunderstand. I'm not saying that the heroes of Black History month are not laudable. On the contrary, my hope would be that these good people are remembred and their deeds discussed more often than just February. It seems that in our Attention Deficit society we need to have these things pre-packaged for us. Some of my best friends are Jewish Mexican-American sociologists ;)
In line with that very astute observation, shouldn't this have been titled "Some White People Can't Win?" Or even, "This White Person Can't Win." You are absolutely right. Being black history month and a time to honor great African Americans, I would hope that strides were made with a lot of sweat and sense of justice not entitlement. Civil rights leaders were workers and thinkers and fighters, not whiners. (Do I dar
Here's the deal. I'm a white mid-westerner teaching music in urban Phoenix. In the course of a day I teach about 75 students. Of those 6 are Caucasian (one of those is my own child), 11 are African-American, two are Pacific Islanders, two are Asian and the rest are Latin American. Now, if I use short hand terms like white, black and Mexican, please don't jump all over
Thanks for reading it. I've been out the loop for a while.
I remember being a little girl--seven years old. A cold gray afternoon--I don't remember any leaves on the trees--I was walking past St. Mary's church. A little, blue, iron mailbox on a cement post stood across the street. My mother had probably sent me to mail a letter. I looked up at the church, the steeple with its star-bursting cross, its stained glass , its white
Ich liebe auch dich
Amid the lesson plans and curriculum maps and bureaucratic hoops, amid the constant round of homemaking and mothering, amid the demands for money that I don't have, I've gotten a little crazy. I still miss Wisconsin and I keep referring to it as "back home". I got an irrepressible urge (almost a call) to write along with a numbing case of writer's block. So I wrote my
Overwhelmed, Overdrawn and Over There Three babies under three Married to madness beginning to manifest In a country where people Have been bred for generations to be Distant, Logical, and Blunt Vowels that sound like home But the meaning eludes me Ich verstehe nur Bahnhof Then came the letters from Dad Office envelopes containi
Oh, Honey Baby! Hard, hard life lessons.
Thank you all. I'll give you more info when I get it.
Yes, this is my first acceptance...Except for the local paper when I was 10... and poetry.com
This is a beautifully poignant poem.
I just received an e-mail that my piece Children of the Night is being published in a trade paperback anthology of work by mothers with special needs children. I am doing the boogie dance in my jammies.
Abso-freakin-lutely
Thank you Buddha. This was a difficult piece to write. It wouldn't leave me alone till I'd written it. Then it wouldn't leave me alone till I'd posted it. Maybe now I can get some new writing done. Maggie
This is work of fiction based on the stories of several women. Sea Monster of Lake Huron Gillian was afraid that Tom would come strolling up the steps in his best suit looking happy-go-lucky. He was the most dangerous then. She walked slow agitated laps around the foyer. Finally a bailiff came through. “Excuse me,” Gillian cleared her throat. “My
This was beautifully done. Simple and elegant and yet so intimate and home-y. All the senses were engaged. Somehow this reminded me of a time-lapse dandelion. Things that are familiar to the point of being invisible suddenly become breathtaking and fascinating.
I liked the Wasowski part. I've been wrestling with zippers this week. Nothing fits. Which then breeds discouragement and a Milano binge.
This also reminded me of the story of my brother-in-law's abortive attempt (his sister's bright idea) to scatter their mother's cremains (ghastly word)by attaching them to too feww balloons. She did a most undignified bounce across the lawn before they decided to sprinkle her in the ocean. When he told the story, we laughed, we cried, we about peed our pants. I hope folks laugh till they pee when I die.
I think this was my personal version of the movie "The Red Balloon," which I have always loved. I remembered that movie as I read the poem. Twenty years ago the prevaling winds said, "life is short, chase the balloon." Now that we are grown-ups the message is "Life is short. Spend it wisely." What a gr
ps - how goes getting used to Phoenix? I hope the heat isn't too discouraging. It rained most of last night. I woke up to 83 degrees. It felt fresh and cool. I went for a bike ride and drove to work with the windows open, glad for fresh air. I'm meeting colleagues and getting busy with work. That he
Thanks Trudy. It's getting better now that the job has started. I'm meeting colleagues and I'm too busy to whine. I'm getting to know the church folks. The kids start school next Tuesday. The structure (uniforms and all) will do them a world of good.
The Basement Pine paneling with knots Like the eyes of many owls. Sheets draping piles of things Depression Era babies can’t throw out. Damp smell of books decaying Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess Edith Hamilton’s Mythology Idylls of the King—forgot we had that. Even Mom and Dad debate about Who will go down there.
"I keep telling myself that I'm going to do some butt exercises because there's NO REASON my butt should be getting bigger during pregnancy." LOL Sweetie, Your butt is where your reserves to make breast milk are. Good for you standing your ground in the face of Hurricane Toddler. Hell hath no fury like a toddler whose sippy cup has been tampered with. This whole article made me smile. Thanks Angela <img src="http://images.sta
. it isn't a "Wisconsin summer". I know the pay off is coming. when I'm eating Thanksgiving dinner in shorts on my patio from the hottest place in in the Inland Empirethe
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