LEMBOLAND

Vaginaland

2011-08-23T12:16:00.000-07:00

It’s the end of the world,” said my cousin, who is in no way an extremist.

“Why?” I asked.

She had just seen the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. Bernadette Peters was the musical guest. She sang a clever song about masturbation. My cousin was shocked that the song made it through the censors.

This was the time when there were television censors whose work was to insure that the watching and listening public was not assaulted by obscenity.

Current FCC regulations state the following:

Obscene material is not protected by the First Amendment to the Constitution and cannot be broadcast at any time. The Supreme Court has established that, to be obscene, material must meet a three-pronged test:

• An average person, applying contemporary community standards, must find that the material, as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest;

• The material must depict or describe, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by applicable law; and

• The material, taken as a whole, must lack serious literary, artistic, political or scientific value.

These regulations represent a huge change from my teen years. There are far fewer censors, to be sure. More importantly, community standards have changed. Cable television allowed nudity, simulated sex, and creative swearing from the poetic to the crude. On the original television stations – ABC, NBC, and CBS - as well as some competitors in the lower portion of the dial, dramatic shows have increasingly showed more skin. The explosion made possible by reality shows, and many of those drawn to being their “stars,” has certainly pushed the limit of what can be considered “literary, artistic, political or scientific value.” Swearing is simply bleeped out.

It is no surprise that some of our youth, many of whom find these shows fascinating, have filthy mouths. Gordon Ramsey, a world-class chef, has several shows in which he trains other chefs who can win restaurants or money to start them. He has a foul temper and an even fouler mouth. Even the seven-second delay for swear words cannot mask the fact that he consistently implying that contestants on his shows have had carnal knowledge of their mothers. Certainly, one could ask why people are willing to publicly humiliate themselves for money. Or why television stations would flout the FCC rules to broadcast these shows. Or why the FCC does not fine this or other shows for clear violations of their rules.

Back to the world ending.

Summer’s Eve feminine products line has recently begun a campaign called “Hail to the ‘V’.” V=vagina. I was raised to be proud of my vagina. I never learned any cute words for it. In the past tense of the new vernacular, “it was what it was.” I also learned from my doctors that the vagina was “a self-cleaning oven” that takes care of itself unless there is a medical problem. So, in my eyes, using vagina worship to sell products that imply that the world’s vaginas require wholesale cleansing with floral scents is the opposite of celebratory. Instead it is surprising, insulting and in some of its permutations, truly offensive.

Summer’s Eve recently offended many by creative ethnic versions of their “Hail” ads for the African American and Latino markets. Hearing a stylized “black” female voice call out “Hey, girl!” from a nappy head with a hand representing a vulva and vagina was absolutely the end of the world for me. When I say "talk to the hand!" I do NOT mean my vajayjay! Hounded by a Facebook frenzy of negative responses, the ad is now off the air. The new advertisement, shown in movie theaters, looks like a film trailer - multicultural women from days of yore watch as sword-twirling men fight for "it." The scene then shifts to a modern woman walking through a grocery store's feminine product aisle, while a voice-over asks her to demonstrate her love for "it." She smiles and settles on Summer's Eve products.

Marshall McLuhan was a media pundit known for coining the term “global village” and for the phrase, “the medium is the message.” This latter phrase is not as obvious as we might think. Technology, in this case, television alone, has not created the problems about which I have noted concerns. Instead, McLuhan posits that technology changes the space and connections in human affairs. Technology can impact definitions of what is or isn’t obscene or community standards. Technology can also be used to connect people in protests about what is offensive according to community standards.

McLuhan and his son, Eric, published the 4 Laws of Media. They stated that every technology:

1. Amplifies our culture;

2. Obsolesces aspects previously amplified;

3. Retrieves elements previously obsolesced, and

4. Eventually reverses or “flips” into something else entirely.

From songs about masturbation to simulated masturbation, to tampons and vaginas as spanking clean as your lemon-scented dishes, the media have amplified our culture. The medium has also. Community standards, too. It will be interesting to see how this “flips” into something else down the road. I pray that Summer’s Eve doesn’t find out.

Drop Dead Me

2011-08-18T18:06:00.000-07:00

"It was one of those surreal things, like seeing a UFO. When you are a person who already thought that maybe you should be dead because life was so bad to you, I thought this could be a premonition."- Laura Brooks, of Spotsylvania, Virginia, who discovered she had become one of about 14,000 people a year mistakenly declared dead when she stopped receiving her disability checks, and her rent and student loan payments unexpectedly bounced. (Source: Chicago Tribune)

I resonate with this story as, when I was a Ph.D. student at the University of Washington, I was declared dead and had to be walked through registration for the entire eight years that I was there. Dead student studying.

Bizarre things started to happen. For example, insurance men began to come to my home trying to sell me life insurance. "Why?" I would ask. "I'm already dead."

There is a bit of freedom in not being alive for a while. Good stories in your life as a ghost. When I went to the doctor I would ask, "Should I be seeing you or the medical examiner?"

The only thing that is not funny is, of course, the money. And the mounds of paperwork required to get your life back.

But once you are you again (if that is, in fact who you decide you want to be), life is grand. And least until the real Reaper comes.

Time and Space

2011-08-18T10:27:00.001-07:00

Today I got a notice from one of the online family tree sites. It, for the third or fourth time, let me know that a good friend was one of my missing family members. What was lovely about this error is that she is family in my heart; the other people to whose presence I was alerted are kin whom I am coming to know. I am pleased to meet them as I have, on both sides of my family, only 6 cousins in toto. It is fair to say that on the immediate Jones and McKinney sides of my family we have rather weak rabbit stock.

I mentioned to my friend, Cathy, that her presence on my family tree was a cosmic reminder of how much I love her. Then I said the following: "Though you be far away in time and space..." and I realized that this phrase has gone by in our Internet age. She lives in Manhattan and I in Seattle, but my email reached her in seconds.

I have lived long enough to have seen TV go from 3 stations to more than I want to count, from well-censored presentations to simulated sex, pornography and bleeping bleepedy bleeps. Men have walked on the moon. Governments have toppled. American women have run for president; a black man won the presidency to the excitement of the world. But over tea, of all things, some folks have decided to be uncivil about his new role. The Arab Spring has nothing to do with flowers blooming. Talkin' bout a revolution! An economic catastrophe in one country is the shot heard around the world. That's trickle down around theory for you. It's a brand new and unimaginable world. And one of the most unimaginable parts is that we can learn about everything via a thing called the Internet on smartphones or computers in most places - even those where people are starving - in milliseconds.

Time and space are, as it happens, fascinating continua. They are carrying us along with them. So Cathy is my family. And I was able to let her know it without a second's hesitation.

As We Know It

2011-08-10T12:50:00.000-07:00

My friend Ed called me today and asked, "Do you think it's the end of the world?" My response to his question was, "It's the end of the world as we know it." Now, I know that there is a cute REM song that uses this as a title and repeating lyric that turns out just fine. But here, off the MTV screen, life doesn't work like that.

Ed said, "Well, my aunt,” his aunt being a rather stern Pentecostal church-going senior lady, “says that it's the end of the world."

"Ah!" I responded. "She's talking about Armageddon. Well, I suppose the world is in some sort of battle between good and evil. But I don't think it's the end times. Just the end of the world as we know it.

"You must 'splain,' uself, Lucy."

"OK, here's why it's the end of the world as we know it."

It was unimaginable until recently that any president would start an unprovoked war. We are currently engaged in a war for no politically viable reason, attacking people who did not attack us. We've been fighting that war for 10 years, sacrificing the lives of our youth and those of many innocent Afghans civilians for 10 years. It's the end of the definition of war as we know it.

It was beyond our wildest imaginings that any presidential candidate would boast of the benefits of separating church and state, or would state succinctly that multicultural America must be celebrated as only a Christian nation. We now have two candidates who find this viewpoint reasonable. While political candidates have always expressed their religious views, those views related to personal faith and their prayers were to that God would bless our entire secular nation. No longer. Thomas Jefferson's 1802 Letter to the Danbury Baptists be damned. It's the end of the "wall of separation of church and state" as we know it.

While it is a perfectly fine demonstration of our First Amendment rights to yell our discontents about or disdain for government from outside capital walls, it borders on anarchy to become an elected official with the goal of destroying government from the inside. [Let’s come with hours of a default because it we’re being lied to about how the market is going to react. Let’s sign a pledge never to raise taxes (even though we’ve taken a pledge to protect the government and the US Constitution). Let’s blame the poor for their plight. Let’s protect the rich at all costs. Let’s rewrite history – it’s good that blacks were slaves. It brought them to America. The Founding Fathers fought hard against the institution of slavery (that was so good for the slaves?)]. Extremist, anarchist governance by the few. Poor us. And poor me. I, who love tea parties, have not hosted on in a year. The phrase has lost its elegant connotation. It surely won’t show up first on a Google search. It’s the end of our political structure as we know it.

There has always been in politics a politics a partisan divide. But, as in law, there has been an unspoken rule that, following debates and legislative votes, you shake hands and come out friends. Compromise is not a dirty word. Bipartisan means that everyone gives something up and works to make a decent bill. Nothing is personal. Certainly no one would ever think to yell crudely at the President from the well of Congress. There is now such a culture of contention that we have lost respect in the world, our credit rating, our minds. It’s the end of civility in political discourse as we know it.

It was absolutely unthinkable that we would have a black President of the United States in many of our lifetimes. Many of us counted it so hopeful and exciting when Barack Obama was elected. But now, we cannot even remember the euphoria of his election, the crowds swelling the Mall on that beautiful day, and the world that was with us. There were whites that saw in Obama a threat to their well-being, who viewed him as a symbol of the encroaching darkening of America. For them, there was and is only fear. It is the end of the dominance of whites as the majority ethnicity in America; in some states this has already occurred. Nationally, 2015 is the tipping point. Fearful people exercised their Second Amendment rights with a vengeance. He was depicted as an ape, a bushman, a tar baby and Hitler. Obama’s birth certificate was doubted, creating a political category, called Birthers, whose sole aim was to prove that he was un-American. Obama was called outrageous and unthinkable names. Normally, differences with presidents are over policy, not their ethnicity or race. While other presidents may have been disliked, distrusted or even disdained, no one has ever accused them of being foreign, inhuman, or un-American. No one has believed them to be illegitimate heirs to the pinnacle of American power. They have only been of significantly different political viewpoints. It is the end of respect for the Office of the President as we know it.

We always thought that if we had a job we’d live a comfortable life. We never imagined that our mortgages would become hockey pucks for banks, that our 401k’s would be gambled by investment companies, that governors would bust our unions, that our Social Security would be in jeopardy, and that our health care needs may not be met. Our children will not have better lives than we had. They, like us, may live hand to mouth, broke and busted, staying too long with relatives. They may work at jobs for which they have too much training. Or they may never be able to receive the education that they dreamed of because they cannot afford it. Programs that may help us don’t exist. It is the end of access to the American dream as we know it.

We never thought we'd see so many floods, tornadoes, earthquakes, tsunamis and other terrible disasters happening one after the other, devastating states and countries. We also never imagined the outpouring of human kindness that, each time, came to the rescue of those affected. It's the end of the ecosystem as we know it.

So when Ed asked me if it’s the end of the world as we know it, that was my response. No, I don’t think it’s Armaggedon. I don’t think we’ll fall off the edge of the world into a fiery abyss. I know that Americans are a resilient and hopeful people and believe strongly that right wins in the end. Though the end can sometimes be a while away. I fear that we have been drive so far apart that we cannot see each other clearly anymore. But, hopefully soon. So while REM provides a summery soundtrack to our distraction, the sentiment isn’t entirely right - It’s the end of the world as we know, and I’m NOT fine.

The End of the World

2011-08-09T18:12:00.000-07:00

Ed said, "Well, my aunt says that it's the end of the world." This is a great fear for his aunt, a serious church-going, God-fearing, somewhat judgmental Pentecostal lady.

"Ah!," I responded. "She's talking about Armeggedon. Well, this is a sort of battle between good and evil. But I don't think it's the end times. Just the end of the world as we know it.

"You must 'splain,' Lucy."

"OK, here's why it's the end of the world as we know it."

It was unimaginable that a president would start a war for no politically viable reason , attacking people who had not attacked us. We've been fighting that war for 10 years, sacrificing the lives of our killing our youth and some innocent Afghans civilians for 10 years. It's the end of the definition of war as we know it.

It was beyond our wildest imaginings that a presidential candidate would boast of the benefits of separating church and state, and state succinctly that multicultural America must be celebrated as a Christian nation. We now have two candidates who find this viewpoint reasonable. While candidates have always expressed their religious views, they related to personal faith and their prayers that God would bless our secular nation. No longer. Thomas Jefferson's 1802 Letter to the Danbury Baptists be damned. It's the end of the "wall of separation of church and state" as we know it.

While it is a perfectly fine demonstration of our First Amendment rights to yell our discontent about or disdain for government from outside capital walls, it is anarchy to become an elected official with the goal of destroying government.

What This Day in History Demands

2011-07-31T15:59:00.001-07:00

America has experienced an ugly and protracted and unnecessary Congressional fight over whether or not our country would pay our bills. This animosity has been a poor model for our children, shows a limited understanding of democracy (democracy demands that once you lose an argument, you give it up to the majortity), has frightened our lenders and international partners and has already impacted the financial markets. A successful outcome has no winners because of the terrible ways that this deal will have been struck.

In The Guns of August, Barbara Tuchman reminded us that, on the eve of World War I, there was a general consensus among European powers that war was an avoidable and bad prospect. But poor communication and ineffective calculations led to war, nonetheless. In our case, Congressional egos, intransigent posturing from the extremist wings of both parties, the politics of "no," unwillingness to negotiate across the aisle, more concern about professional position than the people who put them in there, anger at and hatred of the President and feeling beholden to principles over people has created a war. We want jobs. No one has mentioned them in this debacle. People's homes are in foreclosure; no one is adequately protecting our property. Seniors are terrified that they will lose their benefits; from all accounts, any plan that comes out of Congress will cut Medicare. The poor will lose the support they have received through Medicaid; they cannot afford to lose much more. The "job creators", i.e., wealthy individuals and corporations, will continue to get substantial tax breaks. So far, however, we've not seen sufficient domestic job growth to warrant such a huge benefit; the corporations tend to outsource to places where jobs cost less, and have fewer protections for health care, safety and the environment.

As a result of the loud buzzing I've had in my head about all of this madness, I have found myself wondering why two things never happened in the last few weeks:

List of all potential impacted programs. All members of Congress should have been provided with a list of how a failure of the debt ceiling and specific programmatic cuts to the federal budget would affect their specific states and districts. If they understood that they would not be able to build and improve basic infrastructure, build and improve civic and educational facilities, improve safety measures, and decrease crime (which happens most easily when people have a high school diploma that allows them to get a decent job), they have behaved differently. When John Boehner was asked several days ago what he thought about how the fallout of a potential default would affect his Congressional district. A reporter was heard to say, "Why would he know that?"
Public Shaming. I must admit to missing the passion and power of Anthony Weiner's voice in this fight. I have had a fantasy that he stood in the well of the House and asked all the Congress members the following: Stand if you love America. Remain standing if you came to Washington to do the will of your constituents. Remain standing if you are so committed to your position that you are willing to lose the next election. Remain standing if you would never sign a pledge about how you would vote on any potential issue. Remaining standing if you respect the president.

Disclaimer: I am a liberal Democrat and have experienced a range of emotions from confusion to frustration to anger at the Tea Party Caucus of the Republican Party. I strongly feel that they have misunderstood national anger over the economy as a general wish for no taxes. They have no mandate other than to work on jobs. The Tea Party does not believe in government - so their actions have been to destroy it. They are guided by a philosophy that the government budget should be spare, some not apparently not entirely understanding the consequences of default. Many Tea Paty member want to return to the structure of government that we had perhaps 100 years ago. Having signed the no tax pledge for Grover Norquist's Americans for Tax Reform, they have placed an official stamp on their positions. Because it represents so much that they find offensive, many of them are outrageously disrespectful of the office of the Presidency in a manner that it is absolutely unprecidented. Today, as I was preparing one of my father's sermons for publication in a university library repository, I found this poem. It is absolutely appropos for the challenges that our politicians have put us through.

THE DAY'S DEMAND

God give us men! A time like this demands

Strong minds, great hearts. true faith and ready hands;

Men whom the lust of office does not kill;

Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy;

Men who possess opinions and a will;

Men who have honor--men who will not lie;

Men who can stand before a demagogue

And damn his treacherous flatteries without winking;

Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the fog

In public duty and in private thinking;

For while the rabble, with their thumb-worn creeds,

Their large professions and their little deeds,

Mingle in selfish strife, lo!; Freedom weeps,

Wrong rules the land, and waiting justice sleeps.

-Holland

This Dratted Flesh

2011-07-25T20:58:00.000-07:00

My body is a quickly changing machine. Kind of a magnificent one in many ways, but changing too fast for my liking.

My flat stomach is flat differently than was previously the case. And there is a slight curve to the below the belly button portion of my abdomen. I don't like it, although I recognize that this is nothing that anyone else would complain about. But it makes my pants fit slightly differently. For now. I am so busy doing sit-ups that if you come to visit me you'd better grab a seat on the floor and talk to me on the upbeat. Because I am not planning to replace my entire wardrobe. What I have now better last me until the day I die. I'll be 100 in a mini-skirt but I'm not getting any skirts that accomodate an inch more of me.

I have post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation (PIH) on my neck and chin. This excess of pigment can be caused by infections, allergic reactions, mechanical injuries, medication reactions and inflammatory diseases. My PIH appears to have resulted from a trauma, a sunburn that attached to cologne spritzed on my neck in early morning Las Vegas. This unfortunate discoloration of my glorious skin has nicked my vanity something terrible. I've not considered myself terribly vain because I could always count on my face. I was possessed of mild, but not pernicious vanity, I'll warrant. Now, however, I am terribly vain. Walking around with monkey mouth and cheetah neck'll do that to you.

I also worry that sitting too long at my computer will give me FAS (Flappy Ass Syndrome). I walk 4 miles daily, do Pilates, swim and work out with a trainer. But walking ahead of me on the Cedar River Trail I always see flippity floppy hind parts that are getting away from the people to whom they are attached. While fascinating, this is not something I want to happen to me. Now, this is not likely. My parents both have FAB (Firmly Attached Butts) so, unless a recessive gene affects that particular part of me, or I sit so long that my cells break down and fill my computer chair like an overflowing sink, I should be all right. But just in case, I strip off my gown the moment I get out of bed in the morning and step sideways in front of the mirror. No FAS yet. I haven't tripped over any body parts so far. I'll check back in 2020. See what hindsight proves and planning prevents.

And my brain, I have begun to think, was a delicious bowl of noodle soup that is quickly losing its seasoning and savor. Worse, I may have just learned that there was only ever one noodle, a really, really large one, but just one. Which is mushing up in the liquid at the same time as it, I don't know - is being eaten by the little people who live in my brain and keep me awake at night?

So, I am trying to keep my belly, epidermis, butt and brain together for a while longer. My 85 year old father works out with a trainer twice weekly - his two-pack looks OK. My mother works out 90 minutes daily. She is hard as a rock and just lost control of her stomach last week at 81. I cannot see it. So, just so long as I don't run out of brain noodles, I should be all right. Or I may not care. Because I may not be able to tell.

The Debt Ceiling Hurts My Head

2011-07-25T18:45:00.000-07:00

President Obama just spoke to the nation about the debt ceiling and asked us each to write to our Congress persons to support a balanced approach to raising it.

I also wrote to Speaker John Boehner using my debt ceiling headache as a proxy for the national nightmare that Congress has given us:

Dear Speaker Boehner,

I appreciate the difficult position that you are in as the leader of a party learning to work with a new faction, the Tea Party. As someone who is trained in negotiations, I have been fascinated by the new, partisan language and frankly, unkind language used by Congress members to describe one another and the legislative process.

I have also been stunned by the manner in which the President has been treated; we have all taught our children to speak kindly and respectfully of elders and people in certain positions of authority whether or not they agreed with them. Neither you nor other Republicans have been a good model for the country in this regard.

Those of us working every day care little about the internecine struggles of Beltway politics. We are concerned about what happens at the end of the work that the political parties do, hopefully together, to make America work well.

This is what most Americans want, as supported by most polls taken by Republican, Democrat and non-partisan organizations. We want a balanced budget, including the closing of egregious tax loopholes. We want each political side to always give something up for the greater collective good. We want to continue to be a respected nation. If we work, we should be paid a living wage. If we cannot work because of disability or illness we need to be helped. Schools must be excellent because otherwise no one will be adequately prepared to work in the future. We need first responders to keep us safe. We want to get out of our wars.

Some systems can certainly be fixed. Subsidies for fresh vegetables and taxes for fast foods will increase the market for healthy meals. Our health will improve, our diet-related illnesses decrease, all providing huge savings to the system. Every system should be looked at for waste and redundancy. And every American should share equally in the sacrifice needed to make the country strong, according to their capacity to do so.

The debt crisis was never real, of course. It was somewhat manufactured. This is the first time that the debt ceiling was tied to all of these fiscal factors, forwarded by you when Timothy Geitner asked you to present the standard debt ceiling proposal to Congress. The Tea Party made a set of new demands which made what is normally a one sentence document a torturous experience for all of us. While there may be ideas worth considering, they are not appropriately tied to this document.

So it can be fixed. It would make so many of us admire you even more if you would work with your party members at better understanding that the country will, indeed, default if this does not pass. That saying no to even things you previously approved makes your party look unreasonable, vindictive, uncaring and uncompromising. Republicans must listen to the American people who live outside of their districts, to the people on Wall Street, to our international lenders, all of whom are clear that things are bad and will only get worse. It cannot be that a small group of Republicans are the only ones in the world who are right about our country's financial status. And it is clear to me that you know this very well.

The heart and soul of this country is at stake. It seems that it is in your hands. And we, here in the heartland, are frightened. We want to be able to count on you doing the tough thing even if your party members will be furious with you. But they must be taught where politics ends and governing begins. Because a safe country and secure Americans is worth the ire of some Congress members. They, after all, are there to serve us. And if they refuse to pay attention to what we are saying, then you, as their leader, by definition of your job, simply must. Political bravery is a very hard choice to make. Please make it. History will smile on you.

Every Life Deserves a Great Love

2011-07-11T09:49:00.000-07:00

I am just beginning to read Patti Smith's Just Kids, the romantic, lyrical story of her great romance and creative connection with Robert Mapplethorpe in the days before either became famous.

It is a poetic paean to self-discovery and to searching, to friendship, to selflessness and to the various forms that art and love may take. Unlike the harsh tones that sometimes jar with the poetry of Smith's music, or the shocking photographs that defined Mapplethorpe's later life, their early days and fledgling love story was about what love could bring to art and vice versa. About what the sacrifice of one partner meant to the creative work of the other.

What struck me as I read was the thing that we all really know: that everyone deserves a great love.

I remembered crying uncontrollably when I saw the film, the English Patient. When I was a graduate student, there with a man I knew would break my heart, though even he did not know it at the time. Because I am rather stoic, he was confused, not just that I was crying, but that my tears so clearly went beyond the scope of the film. They began when Carravagio, the English Patient, risked his life to save the woman he loved. And though she died, his devotion to his promise that he would return to bring her out of a precarious situation where her plane had gone down in a desert moved me tremendously. Every woman wants a man who will live out some stereotyped fantasy for her. I had no idea that I wanted a man who would cross the burning sands to save me. The film and this boyfriend made that reality startlingly clear. I was sitting with someone who loved me but whom I knew did not know that he could not commit to the depth of, not just the intensity of the necessary emotion, but many lesser feelings as well. I felt trapped by need and fooled by him. Because people tell you who they are when you meet them. And I had met someone gallant. Somewhere midstream he had taken off his top hat, put on a baseball cap and turned it around.

Reading Just Kids, I have also had lovely memories of Dennis. He was a dear man who, much like Patty's early Robert, supported what I needed. We did that for each other. When I was suffering the miseries of studying for the New York State psychology licensing exam, the hardest in the nation, he spent the weekends with me. While I slogged away at theory, clinical practice and law, he read. He would look up and smile, remind me to take a break, bring me flowering jasmine tea. Unwilling to poison me with his cooking, he always went to a wonderful set of restaurants in the West Village that prepared my favorite foods. He then arranged these treats on my china. Lunch or dinner was served with glorious music - often Mahler. Anything to make my grueling task easier.

Because it is true. We all deserve a great, heart-rending, soul-embracing , walk across the burning sands, until the ends of time, selfless, endless love. Such love provides the friendship safety and comfort that allows us to be our whole, vulnerable, creative, productive and crazy selves. It allows us to reciprocate the same. It gives us a place to call home.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=122582840

My Father Shakes Hands for Me

2011-06-17T16:21:00.000-07:00

My father shakes hands for me. For the last seven years I have been plagued by a rather exotic neurologic affliction that causes me considerable pain upon certain kinds of touch. It affects all of the tall of me but my hands are a particular problem. Americans like to shake hands; it's how we greet one another.

Excuses for not shaking hands are often difficult to concoct. Some days I carry my purse in one hand and, removing an item from it, carry the extracted item in the other hand. If I am lucky enough to be at a reception, I hold a plate and a glass. I can pretend to be a germophobe - and I am, really, but admitting this to strangers just announces your pathologies unnecessarily. I am not a fist bumper, because it, like handshakes, hurts me, turns me red, gets on my last nerves. Besides, Howie Mandel has that all wrapped up. Since I am not an entertainer or national personage, I have no reputation that gives me leave to hone my greeting. Consequently, as I am also missing a large and adoring staff to prime a devoted audience for me, I've as yet defined no preferred manner of personal physical greeting. But trust me: I have a killer smile.

And hands that I don't extend. Usually. So my father shakes hands for me.

"Hi!, its nice to meet you, Lora-Ellen!" A hand is extended in greeting.

My father's hand meets that hand to a confused look. "I shake hands for her," he says. My father and I smile. This is now a practiced habit with us. But it catches everyone else off-guard.

And that, as they say, is that. Because parents show love in the ways that work best for their children. And that is what works for me.

When there was a terrible snowstorm in Seattle - in the days when snow in Seattle was as unnatural as the possibility of monthly natural disasters - and I was a lanky 6 foot tall, 85 pound 11 year old, I had an illness that required that I be taken to the hospital. Though our back door was blocked by an 8 foot snowdrift, my father became Superman. The door unblocked, he carried me in his arms through the storm to the car and drove me to the hospital. That was the way I needed love then and that was how he showed it.

When I was ill at Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, New York and was a lanky, 6 foot, one inch tall, 115 pound 20 year old student who needed parental attention, my father drove up to my dorm exactly 8 hours following my call. This meant that he packed and left the house immediately. He got on the first possible plane that took him anywhere in the vicinity of New York City and then drove to my school and me. That was the way I needed love then and that was how he showed it.

There have certainly been times that my father has shown me wonderful examples of love that have had nothing to do with illness.

There was the delicious time that my father and I hovered in the corner of the laundry room for hours building a fantastic kite. We hammered the kite's balsa wood frame into a perfectly irregular diamond, stretched colored paper over it and braided long ropes for its tail. We took our beautiful creation across the street from the house to the park and launched it on a breeze where it floated for mere seconds before Seattle's winds turned to rains. Our kite folded. Its colors ran. It whipped and twisted. I cried. My father reeled it in. He said that kites make all manner of trips through the sky and that this drippy, curvy, tangled route was one such journey. Then we jogged home and had soup and read stories. My father had very little time for play so I remember this day when I was about six as a delectable memory. My father's save of our mangled kite was the way I needed love then and that was how he showed it.

Then there was the time when my father, who is terrified of water, entered a swimming pool to do water aerobics because I did it daily and told him that it was excellent for improving health. He stayed in the water for the entirety of my hour-long class. That was how he showed his love then.

I don't know what I will do when he is not around.

But until then, because a daughter always needs her father, my father shakes hands for me.

And I love him for it.

Clean Your Own Glass House, Dammit!!

2011-06-16T11:35:00.000-07:00

So now Anthony Weiner has resigned.

This is a man who engaged in lewd online behavior with women who were not his wife. This behavior was shocking for a couple of reasons. We learned that a very media savvy man, one who had intensely and passionately championed the health care bill and was on the fast track to becoming the mayor of New York, had significant adolescently pursued insecurities, had made overtures through multiple embarrassing tweets to women who – with the exception of the banalities strewn through these silly messages – initially been enthralled with his wit, charm and good looks. And then, the American public saw the member of a member of Congress. This, certainly, was unprecedented.

And is where the outrage began.

Given the political pressure urging him to step down, Weiner ultimately had no choice but to give up his seat. He had the worst possible name for a sex scandal. But after the initial shock was over, I found most of the outrage about his behavior terribly disingenuous. There have been far worse sex scandals – the challenge of Weinergate was that this was the first big sex(ting) scandal of the social media age. The truth is that if the Capitol Police were to tell all members of Congress that their computers were to be immediately confiscated for an investigation of inappropriate emails, tweets, Facebook postings and images, many more Congressional resignations would be in the offing. Senator Steve Vitter who paid for hookers, a crime; he is still serving in the Senate. Certainly there have been other Congresspersons who resigned once their sexual behavior came to light. John Ensign had an affair with a staffer and had his parents pay off her husband, also a staff member; Ensign faces criminal charges. Mark Foley was forced to resign after it was learned that he sent emails and solicited emails from under-aged boys who served as Congressional pages. Larry Craig, resigned after he was caught in a public men’s restroom soliciting sex. Anthony Weiner’s resignation is, at this point, necessary. But there must be some consistency in how sex scandals are addressed. The off with his head atmosphere that has surrounded the Weiner tweets has been ludicrous.

The media, the public and Weiner’s political colleagues and President Obama were furious that Weiner lied about his online behavior. The assumption was that if he lied about sex he would lie about anything and could not be trusted with political power and authority. That, frankly, is ridiculous. People lie about sex. It’s private. It can be embarrassing. No one wants anyone in their bedrooms or nightstand drawers. It would be too difficult to explain their fur handcuffs, scented potions, or pornographic movies to other people. And everyone wakes up happier after nights of carnal fun and does a great job at work.

Pundits opined about why Weiner did what he did. Who knows? It's for him to work out with a professional. Weiner did, however, give one of the most honest press conferences about sexual misbehavior that we have seen. He took rude and lascivious questions for 45 minutes. He laid himself bloody bare. And since that time, through weight loss and clear emotional pain, he has been a wounded lamb that the media have flogged. This is flogging for behaviors that represent poor judgement only; he did nothing remotely illegal. If we assume that his dangerous online behavior represents a sexual addiction, then his request to Congress for time to become a healthier person and better husband, granted by them, was legitimate and warranted. Such requests have often been granted to members of Congress so that they have space to battle their alcohol or drug addictions or to address family issues. Weiner needed this time; he has started treatment with a therapist. It has not been respected. The national view of his erect penis, unpopularity among his colleagues (in spite of his popularity with his blue collar constituents), and the 24-hour news cycle, made it necessary for him to leave his post. Americans, always uncomfortable with sex, found this scandal simultaneously fascinating, icky, sad and familiar. It was the familiarity that we really couldn’t stand.

An ugly truth is that everyone needs at least one bad guy to get work done in Congress. Weiner’s very abrasiveness and grandstanding on the far left was appreciated as long as it moved policy conversations toward to middle. It is a necessary position in politics. It is also one that, in times of trouble, one’s colleagues can easily flee from.

Let’s think for a moment about how much poorer our political landscape might have been had we thrown out some of the politicians involved in modern sex scandals. President Bill Clinton was impeached for sexual behavior with Monica Lewinsky. He continued his presidency and has gone on to become an extraordinary senior statesman. For years, the Lion of the Senate, Ted Kennedy, had a serious problem with alcohol and serially cheated on his wife. He killed a woman. And we, rightly, as a result of the extraordinary work for the poor of this country, had a national coronation at his death. But Anthony Weiner was scrappy, ambitious, combative and abrasive. He did not have many close friends in Congress. Once his new age problems were laid bare, no one wanted to help him.

Post-Congressional life may prove challenging for Weiner. He will lose his $174,000 salary, though he will receive retirement payments. Because politics has been his life’s work, he may have a hard time finding work. He is not an attorney. He does not have an MBA. Colleges and lobbying firms may find it difficult to offer him employment. Who's going to hire him - Ball Park Franks? As he made his retirement statement in the Queens community center where, 20 years ago he first announced his run for City Council, Weiner said that he wanted to find ways to continue to meaningfully contribute to the civic discourse. What has been a wonderful salve for him has been the constant support of his wife, Huma Abedin, aide to Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. Caught off-guard by her husband's post-marital sexting behavior, Abedin has reportedly helped Weiner plot his course through treatment and resignation. In spite of all calls for his resignation over the past three weeks, Weiner was not willing to act until he could have a face to face conversation with his wife, who was out of town with her boss.

So, in the future, how do we choose our Congressional representatives? While Weinergate has been considered a huge distraction from the country’s very serious problems, we do have the right to learn about the integrity of our Congresspersons and Senators. We may not need to have extremely personal details about their private lives, but it is essential that we have enough information to judge them fairly in election years. How else do we judge their judgments?

But here is another truth: Americans love a comeback story. We’ll see more of Anthony Weiner. And as we all know now, less is more.

Temptation of the Wolverines

2011-06-05T09:11:00.000-07:00

For the past few months I have been working on special projects for my father. One of them is a collection of his sermons and talks that will be in a repository of the works of the country’s most respected preachers.

When my father and I went through his sermons to list those that he thought would be the most meaningful to people who would want to study and learn from them, he made the decision that he would select sermons from each decade of his ministry that highlight his commitment to social justice.

Included in these is his trial sermon, delivered on September 4, 1949 at the Antioch Baptist Church in Cleveland, Ohio where his father, the Rev. Wade Hampton McKinney was the minister.

I am thrilled to have read this sermon; it cracked me up. It gave me an opportunity to see my father as a young, green and, frankly, rather sexist preacher. Increasingly, given that we can now record all of life on our cellphones, every child will have a record of most of their parent’s developmental milestones. My father’s early life is in old sepia-toned photos, yellowing newspapers and sermons, kept in miles of 6x8 inch manila envelopes in so many file cabinets that my mother fears that the beauty of her home sanctuary is compromised. And she has not seen the storage space.

My father is now a great and thoughtful preacher. On September 4^th in 1949, he was thoughtful. He talked about how Jesus was tempted by the devil and did not succumb. He said that human beings, however, were perpetually confronted by

Temptations through physical appetites.
Temptations to seek popular applause.
Temptations to possess power over others.

And women, that fair breed, is presented on two occasions as a danger to men. Here is one:

When man’s animalistic self gains the upper hand, his mind takes second place. Woman throughout the centuries beginning with Eve down through this very moment, has used her most dangerous weapon, sex, to gain any desired end. It really takes a mighty good man with backbone and a strong determined will power not to be overcome when confronted by these innocent looking wolverines in the “New Look.” True, they must also be on guard against the wolves in the “Bold Look.” Behind the rise of every great man and the fall of every bad man, there has been some woman.

“That’s quite a statement, Daddy!,” I said when I called to tease him about this sermon. “I’m glad you got past this sexist moment. And you crossed out all kinds of crazy adjectives that could have accompanied “innocent looking wolverines.”

“Well, that was the thinking then.”

“And the sermon was…” (He cut me off)

“Well-received!”

“Not great, Daddy.”

“You’re looking at it through 21^st century eyes. And female eyes. But of course it’s not great. It’s always our hope that we’ll grow and get better in everything we do.”

“You’re a wonderful preacher now, Daddy. Which people will clearly be able to see when they compare your later sermons to this!”

He grunted. “I have better things to do than have my daughter insult me.”

“And I have so few opportunities to do it. I thank you!”

We laughed and hung up.

This was a fantastic moment for me in many ways. I knew that on that 1949 moment in the church of his youth, my father’s family and his father’s congregation gave him their blessing. And his sermon, well-written and full of historical and literary references, let them know that the child that they had nurtured had returned to them as a man of whom they could be rightly proud.

And I, helping my father gather his works for posterity so that his legacy is secure, have a very different perspective. He is no longer the strong and tall man of my youth. Walking with a cane and no longer able to drive, he nonetheless maintains a remarkable memory of world history and stories that accompany the names of most people he has met. He goes twice weekly to LA Fitness to work with his trainer of what I like to refer to as his half-pack.

In Greek mythology, the Sphinx sat outside of Thebes and asked this riddle of all travelers who passed by. What goes on four legs in the morning, on two legs at noon, and on three legs in the evening? The answer, of course, is man. Reading my father’s trial sermon helped me see the connection between his early noontime and evening. It gave me a hint into the man I could not quiz grandparents about – they died when I was in elementary school.

So this project became an unexpected gift. And lucky for my father that he married my mother and had two daughters. None of whom are innocent looking wolverines.

The Sword of the Lord

2011-06-04T15:06:00.000-07:00

I read Andy Himes book, The Sword of the Lord: The Roots of Fundamentalism in an American Family, with great interest. This fascinating, searing and brutally honest memoir examines Christian fundamentalism through the lens of Andy’s family and his own life. It also considers the manner in which shifting personal and social contexts have the power to change how we view the fundamental truths that guide our lives.

Andy’s childhood definition of one fundamental truth began with a strong and vibrant Christian faith, practiced by his family, led by generations of charismatic Southern Baptist preachers, under the leadership of his grandfather, John R. Rice, a man widely recognized as the father of the American Christian fundamentalist movement.

This was a mighty, and mightily confusing legacy. A mentor to Billy Graham and Jerry Falwell, John R. Rice was also devoutly racist, and biblically justified in his beliefs. As a teen attuned to the social changes that accompanied the early 1960’s, Andy became disillusioned by the familiar but strict, unyielding and unwelcoming Christianity practiced by his family. For succor, he threw away all that he had learned as a child. He turned to atheistic and political fundamentalisms so extreme that his life and sanity were often in grave danger. Surviving these experiences has given him a degree of weariness and wisdom, finally leading him to a mature and accepting combination of the essential roles that must be played by forgiveness, family, and faith. Today, in his 60’s, Himes is a man who is no longer a fundamentalist, but one who knows that fundamental to his core values is his belief in God and understanding that social justice is essential to how he must live in the world.

Like Andy, I come from a long line - three generations - of Baptist ministers. I write books on African American Baptist belief and faith traditions. As it happens, I was amazed as I read The Sword of the Lord by more than the beauty of the writing, pain and redemption found in Andy’s story. There were assumptions that I made as an exceptionally informed reader and that he made as an extraordinarily detailed and well-researched writer that surprised me, that were just plain wrong in some cases, but neither of us knew this. For reasons that had entirely to do with the invisible ways that race can insert itself into the thought processes of progressive people. And race, in a less progressive world was, after all, an issue among many, that had led Andy away from his family’s exercise of faith in God.

This is what I noticed: In setting the premise for the early portion of the book, Andy mentioned famous Baptists, stating their importance to the faithful, the impact of their sermons and the many lives they had brought to Christ. With the exception of Billy Graham and Jerry Falwell, I had not heard of one of them, including Andy’s grandfather, John R. Rice (though I had in my youth been handed copies of Rice’s pamphlet, What Must I Do to be Saved?). Given that I am an “expert” on Baptists, I was at first (and simultaneously) perturbed, confused, angered and embarrassed by my ignorance about people pivotal to the history of my denomination.

I took a walk on the Cedar River on which I live, a lovely meditative place for me. And I figured it out. Every last one of the Baptists that Andy mentioned were white men. With the exception of the European and American founders of the denomination, the vast majority of my Baptist referents were black. Andy, most likely, was as unfamiliar with my famous Baptists as I was with his. While he had written in a wonderfully detailed manner that would teach those unfamiliar with Baptist history and traditions new information, he had assumed that all Baptists would know what he was talking about. Not the case.

Leading up to the Civil War, Baptists split over the issue of slavery. The Southern Baptist Convention formed in 1845 in support of slavery; Northern Baptists (now American Baptists) opposed slavery. 1895 saw the formation of the National Baptist Convention, the denomination of black Baptists. Now I can be an American or a National Baptist, and I am both. But even though the Southern Baptists apologized for slavery in 1995, there are fewer black faces at theirs than at a Republican Convention. It has been said that the most segregated hour in America is at 11 a.m. on Sunday morning, when church services are held. It isn't surprising that I had no idea what Andy was talking about; because the denominations control their own publishing houses, Baptist worlds, even in how we learn our history, have divergent twains.

In addition to the recognition that race continued to insert itself into the historical reckonings of two enlightened people, I also found myself struggling with the any positive connotation of the term, fundamentalism. Black Christians are not fundamentalists. (Nor are those the abolitionistNorthern Baptists.) Fundamentalism tends to focus its theology on the afterlife and what must be done to get there. Black Christian theology likens us to Old Testament Jews trying to get to the Promised Land; this is a worthy goal for people who arrived as slaves, and lived through legislated oppression yet continue praise the God who brought us out of the wilderness. While the afterlife is a spiritual objective, black Christians focus on practical daily needs. Believing Jesus to have been a revolutionary force, our ministries are organized to help others as a way to create social equity. That equity is what creates the staircase to the afterlife.

This is an afterlife that Andy does not have to worry much about. He has dedicated his post-fundamentalist life in all of its varied forms to working for social justice. And he has written a brilliant and provacative book. I learned about generations of the Scots-Irish in America (from whom I descend), his family of origin, a separate and unequal Baptist history and Andy's life trajectory in ways that caused me to think in very unexpected and challenging ways. That reader’s journey is any writer’s dream.

Sarah Kay: If I Should Have a Daughter ... | Video on TED.com

2011-05-14T09:35:00.000-07:00

This most wonderful video of the poem - If I Should Have A Daughter - expresses all of the sentiments of women toward their prospective daughters or the girl children that they love as daughters. This poet, the serene, eloquent, outrageously word-perfect Sarah Kay is stunning.

From her website: Sarah Kay is a Spoken Word Poet who grew up in New York City and began performing her poetry when she was only fourteen years old. Even though she was often the youngest poet by a decade, Sarah made herself at home at the Bowery Poetry Club, one of New York's most famous Spoken Word venues. In 2006, she joined the Bowery Poetry Club's Poetry Slam Team, NYC Urbana, and competed in the 2006 National Poetry Slam in Austin, Texas. That year, she was the youngest poet competing at Nationals. Sarah was featured on the sixth season of the television series Russell Simmons presents HBO Def Poetry Jam, where she performed her poem "Hands." She has performed in venues across the country including the United Nations, where she was a featured performer for the launch of the 2004 World Youth Report. She has also performed internationally and is a published author. In 2004, Sarah founded Project V.O.I.C.E. and has since taught Spoken Word Poetry in classrooms and workshops all over the world, to students of all ages. Most recently, Sarah was a featured speaker at the 2011 TED conference (Technology, Entertainment, Design) on "The Rediscovery of Wonder" in Long Beach, California.

For more info on Sarah's poetry and teaching, see www.kaysarahsera.com

Sarah Kay: If I should have a daughter ... | Video on TED.com

Concerning the Death of Osama Bin Laden

2011-05-02T07:16:00.000-07:00

My friend, Rev. Wendell L. Griffen, pastor of the New Millenium Baptist Church in Little Rock, Arkansas, wrote this reflection on the US killing of Osama bin Laden on May 1, 2011.

The announcement by President Barack Obama that U.S. forces killed Al Qaeda terrorist leader Osama Bin Laden in an attack on a compound in Pakistan ends a manhunt that began when Bill Clinton was president and intensified after the mass murder Al Qaeda committed in the September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Towers in New York and on the Pentagon in Washington, DC. No one should be surprised that Americans are glad about Bin Laden's death, as it represents a military and intelligence victory over the man who masterminded an organization devoted to terrorism, murder, and instability around the world.

Bin Laden's death marks a just conclusion to the manhunt. We should be relieved, but his death is no reason for triumphalism. The U.S. killed Bin Laden, a terrorist. The military and intelligence victory must be acknowledged and appreciated.

But the greater challenge for the United States and the rest of the world is to address the moral, political, economic, and other causes and forces that contribute to the estrangement that produced Bin Laden and his followers. Bin Laden, for all his importance militarily, was but a glaring symptom of that estrangement. The moral challenge now is whether people (policymakers and everyone else) are willing and able to face and engage in the solemn work of addressing the factors that influence people to become terrorists.

This is no time for triumphalism. Instead, we should give serious thought about how to reconcile human differences so that violence, hate, and cruelty don't take root within people. That work is more important than killing one terrorist, even if he was Osama Bin Laden. Bin Laden is dead. The more important work isn't.

Meet You In a Dark Alley!

2011-01-22T21:51:00.000-08:00

Something remarkable happened today. A year's worth of hard work at the gym paid of in an amazing way. My body is a medical wonderland, challenged by overlapping and conflicting genetic, hereditary and acquired conditions. Unless blood, muscle and/or bone conspire against me, I am an active person. I walk, swim, do Pilates, and now, work out with a trainer.

All of these peculiarities aside, I am someone who believes myself to be a well person with physical challenges. After all, everybody has something. Some cross to bear. It's ungrateful and ungraceful to complain. Get yourself some friends and family, even if you have to design them from scratch, make your body strong, find ways to laugh each day, especially at yourself, eat and sleep well, and you are on your way to celebrating your 100th birthday.

Morgan, The Tyrannical Trainer, is a lovely woman with an encouraging smile, skilled at working with odd bodies. She's tough, though, and pushes me, safely, in ways that have made me increasingly strong and agile. She easily adapts to the asymmetries in my body. She watches for signs that my nutrition may be less than adequate, observing the ways that it is revealed by changes in my skin and hair. She has remedies for my bruises. Exercises are adjusted if, affected by my genetic disorder, some of my muscles do not fire as expected or my joints are lax. When all four of my menisci tore at the same time last year, exercises were designed around them; she began training me in the pool one day a week. Now I can do squats.

And I am capable of two feats I would not have quite imagined possible with my skinny, if toned, arms. I can do push-ups! One male, 35 female, and 10 - shown here - that use my body weight as balance against a set of pulleys.

So here I am. Remarkable! Counting on 100 (because 99 1/2 just won't do!).

Don't mess with me!

The Dog That Visited Himself

2010-12-24T03:40:00.000-08:00

On one recent chilled and sunny day as I walked along the Cedar River, I passed by a man walking his dog. The dog was small and of indeterminate breed. Most notable about this dog, however, was his enormous energy and friendliness. As I walked uphill toward him, he bounded toward me, dragging along his owner. It was then that I noticed that this spry animal, that I had been watching run down the river walk for some time, had only three legs. He did not limp or lean or tire. He did not seem to notice at all.

In a recent reading of a set of beloved emails I was reminded of two fundamental life truths:

Rumi said somewhere, “Have you visited yourself lately?” – This is an admonition to be self-aware and self-reflective, to not be so outwardly focused that you forget who you are. In religious terms, one might say that it is important not to be so heaven bound that you are no earthly good (to yourself or anyone else). As this young three-legged dog ran along the path, all I saw was joy. He did not let three legs hamper him. In his own doggish way, it was clear that he visited himself every single second.

It is important to think of life as dessert. – Life is hard, painful and long if we let it be. But we can temper its challenges by how we approach it. Americans and others from Westerns countries are continually amazed by the tenacity of and happiness they find in the citizens of developing countries. “How can they be so happy with so little?,” we ask. Or, we want to know, what accounts for the resilience of some people in the face of tragedy? Though the answer involves a complex of psychological factors that will not be dealt with here, those people – and this little doggie – often approach life as dessert. Life may give you three short legs but it is good to know that there is a sunny day, a rolling river, a loving friend at the end of your tether, a community of fellow river denizens and delicious bowl of kibble at the end of the day.

What's In a Name?: Only Punkin Knows

2010-12-11T14:36:00.000-08:00

I am over my parent's home, having just finished helping them prepare for a holiday party for my mother's women's "circle", a church charitable group. I told them that I had seen mutual friends the day before - a grandmother, daughter and her two year old son, James, known as JT. When I entered the grandmother's store where JT was playing he was babbling delightedly about Mickey Mouse, almost his only set of words. I finally asked him his name. I got back Mickey, though not in a manner that made me think that he thought that this was his moniker. The boy just loves the Mouse.

I then said, "Hey James!" James turned quickly and looked under a nearby table. We all laughed but his mother and grandmother had an explanation for something that was, to me, inexplicable. "He's looking for his cousin James!" Are you telling me that this child doesn't know that his name is James?," I said. They laughed. Apparently he occasionally recognizes JT, but will have to learn that he and his cousin and his father all share the same name. And that his cousin is unlikely to be found under small tables in gift shops.

My parents and I then began talking about children's names - how parents name their children, how names get bastardized, just funny stories about names. Here are two of the absolutely true stories that my parents told me and that I can now share, having picked my face up off of the floor.

My father attended elementary school with twins who were known to the neighborhood kids as Ju and Bill. When, on the first day of school, their teacher asked one of the twins his name, he replied, "Ju". "No," said the teacher. "Your name is Julius. And what is your name?, " she inquired of his twin. Frightened, he replied, "Bilious."
My mother was a teacher in a school in Seattle. She had taken the roll and found a disturbing problem. She had a lovely little girl who said her name was "Punkin" and a missing child who name was Elizabeth. My mother asked Punkin, "What is your real name?" "Punkin!," was her emphatic and repeated response. On the third day of school, and because Elizabeth was also still absent, my mother walked home with Punkin. When Mother knocked on the door, a woman opened and she inquired if the child that she had in tow was her child. "Yes," she said. "What is her name?" asked my mother. "Punkin," stated the woman. "No, her real name." "Punkin." "What's her birth name, the name on her birth certificate?" asked my mother. The woman looked at my mother as if had two heads. She was confused by this question and stood quietly in the door for a long time. "I think it's Elizabeth," she finally said. "You think?" exploded my mother. "Well," said Punkin's mother, we've always called her Punkin so I just forgot. Punkin's always been her name to me." Punkin looked up at my mother and said, "Told ya so!"

I recalled that, in my first placement when I was a psychology grad student, I was assigned the case of a beautiful little girl whose mother, a radical feminist, had thought it a favor to name her daughter Vagina. I took her to court for parental abuse. The female judge, also a feminist, though less radical, thought it wise to let the 6 year old girl choose her own name. She chose to name herself Tree (not her real name but very close).

And when my parents lived in Providence, Rhode Island in the early 1950's, a woman who had had many babies by natural childbirth finally gave birth in a hospital. The procedure was done with chloroform. So grateful was she for a painfree birth that her child's name, Chloroform, will forever shout that claim.

Names are indeed fascinating things.

Hallelujah Hot Tub

2010-11-23T11:34:00.000-08:00

I went swimming last Saturday and saw something I have never seen before and expect never again to see: a prayer meeting in the hot tub. I was meeting my trainer in the pool at 10:30 a.m. and, as is my habit, got there 30 minutes early to swim. I walked to the far end of the pool but heard something...interesting.

In the hot tub, surrounded by a cloud of antibacterial bubbles, was a multicultural, multi-age group of three men and one woman. Led by a fervent prayer leader, they held hands. As a fourth generation Baptist familiar with the pattern of prayers, it was clear that this one had been going on for a while before I got in the water. Heads were nodding. Yes, Jesus, said the woman, just slightly audible over the bubbles and the pitch of the pastor. Swimmers were, well uncomfortable does not describe it.

I swam a few laps, trying to be even quieter than I normally am (not a messy swimmer, I) lest I disturb the spirit. Six laps later, the prayer was still going on. Hands were flapping. Foam was flying. I swam two more laps, looking up as I returned to see a penitent open his eye to look at the prayer leader. Lord, please!, he appeared to be saying, let it end if it does not offend Thee.

Perhaps five minutes later, after maybe 20 minutes, it did. They raised their hands in a hearty hallelujah. I kicked a little more vigorously and said to the preacher, "So, prayer meeting in the hot tub?"

"Yes!", says he. "Where God finds us, we meet Him. You should have gotten out and joined us."

"Oh, I'm fine," I said. "God's in the pool, too."

Groping Our Way Towards National Security

2010-11-23T11:07:00.000-08:00

I, like much of the country, have been listening intently to the discussion about the new TSA security process. In many ways I am of two minds about it. We are a country structured around the concept of independence – that is the name of our national birthday, after all. The Constitution gives us these rights. Even when we don’t engage them well, our documents state our belief in individual rights. Full body scanners, now so much in the news, have been available for years but their introduction into airports has been slowed by privacy advocates like the ACLU. Recent events like Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, the 2009 Christmas underwear bomber and the Fedex packages targeted for Chicago synagogues have created a new, more fearful environment. We have no real solution for how to balance our culture of independence with our need for security. Nor have we been thoughtful about how we should handle this challenge. So while we should not be surprised, it has still been somewhat jarring to see photos of TSA officers with their hands between grown men’s legs. Or to hear the humiliating story of Thomas Sawyer, a bladder cancer survivor who wears an ostomy bag and was drenched in urine when an officer did not pay attention to his admonitions to adjust his pat down method. And the new cry has become: Don’t touch my junk. No one wants their junk touched . Or hardly anyone.

For all that I treasure the American cultural value of independence, to ensure national safety when we have an enemy as bent on destroying us as is Al-Qaeda, I will give TSA permission to feel me up. That, however, is not the issue. What is wrong with the entire process is this: While I understand that fewer people are patted down than has been reported – perhaps two percent - the machines don’t do their job. The scans these machines take look like science projects at the GE high school science fair. I love genius kids but they don’t necessarily make me feel safe.

Scan Everything. If the security process is to be effective, it must scan us internally and externally. It must be assumed that we might have explosives hidden in our stomachs, intestines, vaginas and rectums. I guarantee that terrorists are gonna come up with a exploding kegel muscle exerciser. The machines reportedly cannot, at this point, even detect underwear bombs. So the utility of the machines is limited. Except to show who is silly enough to wear their body jewelry, underwire bras and other unnecessary heavy metal apparati to the airport. The scanners need to show ever-y-thing. If I am going to let you look through my clothes, go ahead and view me on a cellular level. Get a report that you can send to my doctor. Save me some lab fees. I’ll sign the release. Frankly, TSA could have probably have saved some money by using more specially trained dogs. Every dog I have ever met is a happy crotch sniffer. Let them loose in TSA security posts. Train officers more effectively. Training + sniffing dogs + machines that see up our nasal cavities just might do the job.
Other Airport Security Models. The US has always tried to balance privacy and security. It is important that this be the place that we start. That said, there are other airport security models that seem to ensure more safety. The Israeli model works well in an environment that is constantly under attack. The Israeli security system targets terrorist behavior rather than focusing on weapons. Their system is reportedly so secure that some travelers prefer a full body scan. Following the underwear bombing incident, a panel of travel security experts indicated that scanning was essential and that pat downs were of limited utility. I imagine they expected better scanners than are being used.
Eliminate Conflicts of Interest. On Monday, November 22, 2010, Former U.S. Secretary of Homeland Security, Michael Chertoff was found to have a proprietary interest in the Rapsican machine produced by OSI, having recommended their use over other companies that might have had more effective scanning methods.

So here we are, just in time for the holidays, standing in long lines like sitting ducks, possibly vulnerable. TSA agents are doing their jobs. But we have to use this moment not simply to complain about our personal indignities, but to figure out how to redefine personal freedom in the age of terrorism, how to make our systems of oversight work so that we have the equipment that we require. And how to have fewer conversations about who is touching our junk than what is changing our hearts.

Here's How We Win, Mr. President!

2010-11-04T15:18:00.000-07:00

I have a few ideas about how to keep Obama in office:

1. MAKE JOBS HIS #1 MISSION. Work to create infrastructure jobs, report on what the stimulus has already done to create jobs (and rename the stimulus to something else). Do the work required to ensure that big business must help create jobs and keep jobs in the country. Make certain that small businesses have adequate protections to support themselves.

2. CAPTURE AND COMMUNICATE IDEAS MORE EFFECTIVELY. Republicans have traditionally done better than Democrats at communicating succinct ideas. You have made magnificent gains that few know about and that he must state; he must also make and tout continued gains.

Obama should monthly publish a report card outlining 10 top policy areas (DADT, environment, health care, cap and trade), promised goals, progress on goals, impediments to those goals, goals met, and a grade. It should be simple and clean. Each month should be available online, in public libraries and post offices, and in major news organs.

3. GET A BULLDOG. Call the Republicans out. If they stonewall you, call you names, etc., tell it. "People want their country back!" Well, who took it? "Death panels?" Show me! "People want health care repealed!" You don't want your child's health care covered until they are 26 years old? Really? "You want to be penalized for pre-existing conditions?" Okey-dokey "You want fewer Medicare coverage options for your aging parents?" I don't believe you. And for all of these statements he have made, here is the data.

3. RECAPTURE YOUR YOUTH. Youth were excited and approached through technology and ideas. Immediately appoint a team whose sole job is to work with high school and college students. Engage them in volunteerism. Get them registered to vote. Communicate with them through regular social networking methods.

3. FIRE SOME FOLKS. TOMORROW. Obama must rethink his cabinet immediately. Groupthink has set in among the Chicago crowd. The President must move some of them out. Other folks also need to go. Replacing Tim Geithner and others the public no longer trusts to rehabilitate our economic crisis would be a great start. It would not be the worst idea to bring back Robert Reich who has some wonderful new ideas on how to strengthen and fix the economy. Find some new young blood (Freakonomics or Gladwell on "Cocksure Wall Street Bankers" or a TED Summit at the White House, anyone?). Keep us posted on what they are doing. Keeping his promises about the wars, no matter how hard, or informing us why it is so hard not to do so, would also be great. And how about some shuffling in the various departments in and around Homeland Security? Let's bring in someone like Colin Powell who the Republicans are afraid of? And how about calling the department something far less reminescent of Nazi Germany than Homeland Security?

5. GET A SPINE. This is now battle. When folks want to kill you, you have to strap on your amour. Mitch McConnell and John Boehner have said they want to defeat and destroy. Obama must find a way to be statesman-like while kicking their asses. That will fire up the base, recapture the progressives, and energize the independents. We want to hear that no one will touch health care, that he did everything possible to help economic recovery and that it takes time, that public education will not be privitized, etc.

6. BUILD INFRASTRUCTURE. We need jobs at home. Bridges, buildings, roads keep America strong, sturdy, and our economy healthy.

7. 'SPLAIN HIMSELF SIMPLY. He won us with poetry. Switch to haiku. Five word sentences that we can remember.

8. DON'T DANCE WITH HIS ENEMY. If the Republicans only goal is to beat him, filibuster, stalemate, doubledown, protect the wealthy and neglect the poor, negotiating does not work. He has to stand up straight, show some fire and let us help him.

9. HELP HIM. One of my favorite movies is Meet John Doe, a Frank Capra film. John Doe, made suicidal because he has lost work in the Great Depression, is helped when a national newspaper tells his story. Around the country John Doe clubs form. Neighbor helps neighbor and community is built. This is the story that I told about how Obama's candidacy inspired me to run for delegate. And this is what we must do now. Be John Doe, help John Doe. We are John Doe. And right now, so is our President.

Acting Your Way into Self-Awareness

2010-10-25T14:47:00.001-07:00

I learned something important about myself and the self in an acting class today that was a bit unexpected. The teacher, Shanga Parker was explaining something that, on its face, is self-explanatory. You can tell when someone is a bad actor: it shows on their face, in their movements. They communicate as false. A good actor, on the other hand, seems true. We don't know why they are good. We simply feel the truth that their words and bodies speak. We forget that we are seeing a play.

Now, Shanga said none of those words, really. But he meant them. He talked instead about the difference between acting and feeling states. For example, if you are given a role where you are to be at a party and someone is to blow you off, the worst thing to do is to say in your head, "I just got blown off." No one would do that in real life and that is what would read as false to an audience. What happens is that you walk into a party, see the person who makes your heart beat fast and something bad happens that slows your heart down, or makes your stomach fall, or drop your beer, or toss your cookies. Your face changes, your body responds. People may or may not notice. But the audience is going to infer something - you got blown off, your heart was broken, you shouldn't drink. Definitely should leave cookies alone.

But more than this helpful lesson about acting, I was reminded of the wisdom that often comes with growing older. The common chestnut has it that we relax into who we are, learn from our mistakes, don't give a rat's heinie about what others think about us and on and on (and on). These things may all be true. But if practice makes at all perfect and we are blessed to learn the lessons of our errant ways, we may simply become better actors as we age. We may learn how to wear who we are and want to be as we walk into life's rooms so that we read to others as true.

By the time the curtain drops, if we are lucky, if we do the required work, the script will have sorted itself out.

Shirley Sherrod Is a Modern Day Rosa Parks

2010-07-30T12:22:00.000-07:00

Shirley Sherrod Is a Modern Day Rosa Parks - Jamie Stiehm (usnews.com)

Is the Health Care Bill Good for Communities Of Color?

2010-03-28T21:36:00.000-07:00

This is an excellent blog that responds succinctly to the issue, sometimes raised, of whether or not Obama is addressing an agenda relevant to people of color. Is the Health Care Bill Good for Communities Of Color?;linkurl=http://www.colorlines.com/article.php?ID=697

Health Care is Treating Each Other Humanely First

2010-03-24T16:12:00.000-07:00

“We must settle our differences with civility and common sense, even where we differ.” Senator Barbara McCulsky (Democrat, Maryland)

Since the election of President Barack Obama, we have become an increasing uncivil society. It has occurred in surprisingly unlikely places (the floor of Congress during a Presidential address) and from unlikely persons (Senators and Congresspersons). Prior to the passage of the landmark healthcare legislation, people seem to have lost their (un)natural minds. From Joe "You Lie" Wilson to Minority Leader John Boehner, the contempt for Obama is primordial and the Tea Party – in spite of protests to the contrary is their far right wing – a wing that they are afraid to insult.

In the wake of this legislation, angry opponents of healthcare reform have targeted those who trumpeted it, attacking them in public and under the shelter of darkness. As a result, ten Democratic Congresspersons are under guard due to serious death threats, a number not heard of in Congressional records.

This is not what hope and change looks like. Congresspersons and Senators must remember that they are the people’s representatives and there to work on our behalves. They must be more concerned with doing right than with getting reelected. So here is my brief list of what is we need immediately on this topic:

We ask that our Congressional leaders:

Make a bipartisan resolution or law that violent language and behavior by political leaders and their followers will no longer be tolerated. They must make apologies for ways that they may have given aid to those who would spit on, curse at or otherwise denigrate the President and members of Congress, as well as to the ways that they themselves have done this.

This means that Sarah Palin must take the campaign map with bulls-eyes and the statement, “Don’t retreat, reload" off of her web page. (If you are on FB, go to the 3.23.10 (map) and 3.24.10 (statement) Sarah Palin pages).

Congressman Steve King (R, Iowa) stood was cheered on while he slapped the a poster of Nancy Pelosi's face, since described as "high drama" rather than just wrong.

Michael Steele (Chairman, Republican National Committee) must not speak of Democrats in negative military language as targets to be picked off. Someone will take him up on it.

In response to the health bill passage, Rick Vanderboegh, a Tea Party blogger was quoted as saying, "People are cleaning their guns."

The Gadsden flag (the "Don't Tread on Me flag that was used when we fought the British) was flown from the balcony of the Capital building by Congresspeople during the health care vote. It reflects secessionist leanings and a significant concern that our government needs to be overthrown.

Republicans must say in the one voice in which they have been speaking all year, “This behavior is not acceptable. We can differ with our Democratic colleagues but will not stand by this outrageous conduct.”

Give the force of law to acts of political vandalism, arresting and imprisoning those who attack break standing and new laws.

Give the force of law to threats or attempts of violence against the US President or other political leaders (different than laws already on the books or First Amendment laws).

Deinstitutionalize hate speech – which is not free speech - on talk radio and other media.

Learn to sit with the discomfort that occurs when their positions lose, but shake hands with the victors and cooperate with the process.

Themselves use polite and not violent and incendiary language as this eggs on and can make unstable their political bases.

Find and live their compassionate hearts.

Sign the Charter for Compassion in a public ceremony and display it prominently in the chambers of the House and Senate.

We ask that the American people:

Also learn to sit with the discomfort that occurs when their positions lose, but shake hands with the victors and cooperate with the process.

Disavow violence.

See each human being as a member of their own family.

Sign the Charter for Compassion which "calls each of us to treat all others as we wish to be treated ourselves and to honor the inviolable sanctity of every human being with absolute justice, equity and respect." (http://www.charterforcompassion.com/)

Find and live their compassionate hearts.

We ask that faith leaders:

Routinely talk to their congregations about the importance of kindness, fairness, and faith.

Reinforce that all faiths have in common the Golden Rule – “do unto others as you would have done unto you” or “do not do unto others what you would not have done unto you.”

Create opportunities to work with groups different than those in your congregations, beginning at young ages.Sign the Charter for Compassion and display it prominently in their houses of faith.

Live their compassionate hearts.

Finally, these days we could learn a few things from the Dalai Lama who has said:

If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at least do not harm them

Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.

My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.

Or if none of the above work, consider rewriting the childhood rhyme:

Sticks and stones can break my bones and words can surely hurt me.
America can't be the model for democracy in the world when we throw free speech at each other in solid – and potentially deadly - form.

Merry Happy!!

2009-12-15T07:31:00.000-08:00

Well, t’is the season. And it is a season that has become so strangled by political correctness that people don’t even know what to call it or what salutations to use.

So here is my solution: Use what makes sense to you. Our faiths and beliefs are integral to our self-identities. We should be able to claim them out loud. I am Christian. I say Merry Christmas. To you. That said, those to whom I make this proclamation of the season have several options:

Return the favor. No matter their backgrounds, they can simply return the salutation. Merry Christmas to you they may say. If they are strong in their perceptions of who they are and is not prohibited by the tenets of their faiths, such kind greetings can’t possibly hurt them. After all, Jesus was a good guy. He lived by the Golden Rule and asked that we all do the same.

Filmmaker Dan Merchant made a fascinating movie called Lord Save Us From Your Followers, which looks at how the American church is perceived by non-Christians. In it, among many other fascinating things, Merchant did an interesting experiment. Wearing coveralls covered with religious bumper stickers he traveled around the country doing man-on-the-street interviews in which he asked for responses to his garb. In each city he found that people respected Jesus immensely but were often squirrely about organized religion. So, in honor of Jesus’ birth, Merry Christmas should be easy. It honors a guy that everyone likes.

Use your own. Reply to holiday salutations with your own. When I say Merry Christmas, greet me with a hearty, Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy Solstice! Happy Festival of Lights. Or simply the best of the season to you!

So when I see you on the street and you say Happy Solstice to me, I may do a solstice dance. If you wish me Happy Hanukkah, I will return the greeting. Though I would do so simply because of the reasons noted above, this is a holiday with which I have lots of familiarity. My family celebrated Jewish holidays with a local rabbi. And I attended Hebrew day school for nine months. Happy Kwaanza? I may ask which of the seven values we are celebrating on this particular day. Or, to any of these greetings I may say Merry Christmas!

Make the season your own. I have friends who celebrated Semite Night on Christmas Eve when they all lived in Manhattan. They were two couples, one Jewish and one Muslim who found a way to joyously connect in across their separate customs in a Christmas-centric culture. Everyone must celebrate in their own way during this glorious time.

Because t’is the season. And it’s a great season. Rather than deciding that we can’t celebrate anything, that we should not say anything, that we should not claim anything, we should be ourselves. And ourselves should be embracing and tolerant of others, something that is part of all of our traditions.

So Merry Christmas, everyone!

Can I get an Amen?

Beyond Mars

2009-12-13T14:53:00.000-08:00

Last night I was invited to see The Hangover at the $3 movie theater by two male friends. I was curious about this film, billed as a male wedding movie. The truth is that I was unlikely to have seen it alone. My taste in films tends to run to mysteries, historical drama, character-driven big theater movies and quirky independent films. And the films of beloved actors, that is, actors beloved by me. Will Smith. Brad Pitt. Denzel Washington. Gwyneth Paltrow. Meryl Streep. Clive Owen. Julia Roberts. Daniel Day-Lewis, among others. All of whom tend to play characters, no matter what the genre.

Wedding movies is one film genre. Films in this genre made for women, which until now was, I think, all of them, often cast brides as long-suffering, grooms as loving, clueless or both, mothers-in-law and groomsmen as challenging, the wedding day as madcap. The ceremony somehow comes together just in the nick of time. As unrealistic as this is, women want magic and have been encouraged to think more about the wedding than about the marriage. Movies reflect this; resolutions to real human conflicts or issues are infrequent not the job of these films, most of which are comedies. Fixing people isn’t funny.

And The Hangover was very, very funny. The truth is, had I read this script, I would have had no idea, in spite of my well-honed sense of humor (!), that this movie was as funny as it is. Four men go to Las Vegas for a bachelor’s party. This cannot possibly be good, at least for a woman. But every woman in the theater laughed, full-throated laughter. It is make-your-stomach-and face-hurt, take-the-sound-out-of-your-laugh funny. And it is definitely guy stuff. Some of it is shocking. I could not, for example, have read the scene about the naked Chinese gangster making a running jump and landing crotch-first into the face of one of the main characters and known that it would be funny. But it was hysterical. He was yelling something no one could understand. Flailing. And everyone laughing in the theater was shocked that we were laughing. This was as funny as what was on the screen. Prior to seeing this film, I would have imagined that such a scene would have been foul and gratuitous. And it was. Most of the movie was. The barnyard and circus animals, lost teeth, shrill women, unexpected babies, de rigeur property destruction, stupid songs, exposed penises, geriatric bottoms. But funny.

Shock value was part of what made the movie so funny. Some things were traditionally humorous and others just caught you by absolute surprise. This is how I could tell. My mouth flew open. My hands kept popping up in an infantile “stop sign.” Once my stop sign moved with such speed I hit myself in the head. This is not recommended. “Stop signs” are something that babies do when over-stimulated to alert those around them that they need to calm down. Most infants tend to grow out of this neurologic need by the time they are six months old. Whether it’s presence during this film is a sign of my neurologic immaturity or male immaturity, I am not sure. Perhaps both. Exposed penis (stop sign!). Old man's bottom (stop sign!). Something that looked like it might be disgusting so I could not look (scream. stop sign!).

In 1993, John Gray wrote Women are from Mars, Men are from Venus. Times have clearly changed. Whether they make me laugh or not, some men are now from some place much, much further away.

The Afghanistan Speech We Wanted to Hear

2009-12-06T23:18:00.000-08:00

Dear President Obama,

We are writing as two women who greatly admire you, contributed to your campaign, and campaigned for you. We defend you against detractors. In this case, we don’t aspire to speak for all citizens, but do have our ears to the ground. Tuesday’s Afghanistan speech led us to an uncomfortable conclusion: too attuned to the nuances of policymaking it seems possible that groupthink has set in among your speechwriters and senior staff. From where we sit, Tuesday’s speech did not make it clear that they considered the extraordinarily war weary hearts of many Americans.

Here is what we wanted to hear:

We’ve been at war for eight long years and need our sons and daughters to come home. We’ve poured trillions of dollars into Afghanistan, money we no longer have and have set plans with President Karzai to remove our troops by 2011. Afghanistan is not a perfect place; their election process was certainly flawed. But it is their job to move forward. We will not abandon them in their efforts but must change our focus, always working to keep America safe from terrorists. That is essential. We have already paid too high a price in blood and treasure.

Let me tell you why this new plan is essential. We are in the worst shape we have been in since the Great Depression. We have to put America first for a while. Get our economy back on its feet. Get people working. Put America first. Ensure health care for all of our citizens. Put America first. Make our public schools excellent again. Rebuild our roads. Strengthen our bridges and levees. Clean up the environment. Put America first. The list of needs is long and we know that in your communities you will continue to do your part, through volunteerism and community action, to help where you are needed. This is what it means to put America first.

Having rebuilt our international partnerships and established the good will we had lost for so long, we will, of course, continue active engagement in the world. But we can’t foot the worlds’ bills at the moment. Not while we are hemorrhaging. Taking a cue from airline instructions, we must put on our own oxygen masks on so that we can save ourselves. Then we can save everyone else.

In order to bring our troops safely home from Afghanistan, General McChrystal, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, U.S. Ambassador to Afghanistan Karl Eikenberry, our diplomatic corps and brave soldiers will continue their strategic work on military and diplomatic fronts. In concert with Afghanistan’s leaders, our plans are in place for a month by month withdrawal of troops and a smooth transition to local power. And know this - there is more than one way for us to fight Al-Qaeda. They are not just in the caves of Afghanistan and Pakistan. We will continue, with smaller forces to fight them there, with our NATO allies to fight them around the world, and with our Department of Homeland Security to keep them off of American soil.

We must also implement plans for our returning troops. Re-entry is not easy. We must ensure that they return to systems designed to support their physical, emotional, familial and economic needs. America first. If we do these things, we’ll be a stronger, safer and more economically sound country. We’ll also be a more effective international partner.

That is the speech we hoped to hear, Mr. President.

Here is our last recommendation on this topic. In your meetings, please post a sign that speechwriters and staff must consult before submitting their work:

1. Who are the constituents for this policy or program?
2. How have their voices influenced the policies and programs that will impact them?
3. Where is the HOPE?
4. Where is the CHANGE?

Your capacity to implement this unique mix of factors is why we elected you. But hope and change were not much in evidence on Tuesday night.

Lora-Ellen McKinney
Lora-Ellen McKinney is a psychologist, writer and religious activist who attended the Harvard Kennedy School

Charlayne Woodard
Obie award-winning actor and playwright Charlayne Woodard is based in Los Angeles. http://www.charlaynewoodard.com/

Who Wants to be Tiger Woods Now?

2009-12-04T00:25:00.000-08:00

Today I had lunch with a male friend. Though disappointed by and tired of hearing about Tiger Wood's embarrassingly messy clay feet, I realized that I had only spoken about this with female friends. I wanted a male perspective.

"So what do you think about Tiger?," I asked.

This was his response: "No one would be talking about it if it weren't Tiger Woods."

"But it is Tiger Woods," I continued. "The world's most famous athlete, the first to earn one billion dollars. best golfer ever. An icon to children, to minorities. I want to know what you think."

He talked for a bit about his views on love and marriage. We talked about the adjustments to Elin's prenuptial agreement. We discussed the uncomfortable fact that we knew so much about the private lives of public strangers. My friend again made his point that it was only because this was Tiger Woods, a man whose life was exactly as I had described it, that we all showed such intense and prurient interest in his sexual dalliances and marital pain. It was only because he was Tiger Woods that we curious about his wife's choice to renegotiate her prenuptial agreement. Some women wanted her to leave him, noting that this potential divorce, estimated to bring Elin a potential $300M, would be the largest in history. Reportedly negotiated from her $20M prenuptial payout if she stayed married to Tiger for ten years, Elin's attorney secured for her an immediate payment of $5M to stay with him and a payout of $55M to stay for two more years. A man with a brand as lucrative and as tightly managed as Tiger's tries first to protect it financially. And his wife, an intensely private woman whom we must assume married him because she loved him - though she may certainly have been dazzled by his brand - now finds herself dragged into the bright light of public scrutiny alongside a tawdry line-up of her husband's sexual partners.

Certainly the media attention on this case is exactly because this particular man is so rich, talented and famous. But in another sense, for any wife anywhere whose husband cheats on her, the embarrassment and humiliation are exactly this big. Non-celebrities may not make news the world over but once their family, friends, neighbors and colleagues know - and they eventually do - that is their world. Infidelity need not always end a marriage, but the results are inevitably devastating. The axis tilts for a while.

Tiger has a lot of work to do before his wife can trust him again. He has to be an absolutely open book, answering any questions Elin asks him. He must be willing to let her answer his phone, read his texts, and know exactly where is his going and with whom he will be at all times. Tiger, a man whose laser focus on his sport and total control of his life has made him a winner won't like it one bit but he has no choice. Profuse apologies and money alone are insufficient balms for this particular pain. Tiger has rent a sacred bond. Made his wife look foolish. Stolen her smile. Broken her heart. Jeopardized the family unit. If he asks how long it will take to heal the rift, the answer is until. Until he earns her trust again. Until she can even consider having sex with him. Until she feels comfortable that she is not his last priority. Until he show that he values her as his partner in life. Until. Until they laugh again. Until it starts to work. They'll know. But if until doesn't come, none of these factors will be important. She'll be gone.

In case you're wondering, I never really got a male perspective on this issue. Guys. Their brains are different. They play golf. They like watching things blow up. Most of them are not so good at talking about feelings. Some - certainly not all - of them looked at Tiger's purported mistresses and understood why he was tempted. Some may have acted on similar temptations themselves. Tiger's fall from grace humanizes him in a perverse way for many of them. But here's the thing about temptation from my female perspective. If you're married, look at pretty women as if they are paintings in a fine art museum. Enjoy the exhibit. You can even imagine how the art may look on your walls. But stay behind the stantions. Then take your behind home.

I'm rooting for the children who saw a mother go berserk with pain and will for a while live in an incredibly tense house. The Woodses are now in intensive marital therapy with appointments several times daily; the children may need it as well. I'm rooting for Elin to rely on her friends and family for support; she had a right to her rage, but it cannot be a regular solution to the anger that she will feel as more details I'm rooting for Tiger to be a better man, whether or not his marriage succeeds. As we live our lives we write our obituaries. Now, for all of his accomplishments, the first paragraph will recall this travesty. Philanderers usually get caught. Tiger'll go down in history.

Update: On December 12, Tiger Woods announced that he will take an indefinite break from the game of golf to focus on becoming a "better husband, father and person."

While Woods is focused on repairing his life, others seem as interested in that as the impact of his absence on the game of golf which is likely to be less interesting and less lucrative without him.

The Blind Side

2009-12-02T01:29:00.000-08:00

This film tells the true story of Baltimore Raven, Michael Oher, son of a crack addicted single mother first taken in by a kind man who not only lets him sleep on his couch but finagles Michael’s entry into a private Christian school in spite of his extraordinarily spotty academic record. Life continually blindsided Michael.

The pivotal point in the film, The Blind Side, comes when its main character, Michael Oher, cannot protect his quarterback for the life of him. A huge boy whose size would indicate perfection in the role of offensive tackle, Oher had been too abused by life and those in it to knock any one down. He is adopted by the family of a girl who attends his school.

The Blind Side begins with a voiceover that tells the story of how the NFL discovered the need for offensive tackles who currently receive the second highest salaries in the league. Quarterbacks, the highest paid, were discovered to need extraordinary protection after a quarterback was blindsided, resulting in a crippling accident.

As a movie, The Blind Side has some problems, though I very much enjoyed it. Oher is a huge (6’5”, 340 lbs) black boy, nearly silent. Leigh Anne, his tiny benevolent white mother is a good-hearted, evangelical, well-intentioned, loudmouthed, gun-toting, pushy woman whose husband owns 87 fast food franchises. She, her husband and their children fully devoted themselves to Mike’s happiness; Leigh Anne protected him like a mother tiger. What’s missing is what doesn’t work in a holiday movie. These noted factors present racial, gender and socioeconomic stereotypes that the film does not entirely avoid. It minimally deals with the racism that we must assume occurred in Memphis.. This is a true story that required a huge feel-good quotient but perhaps not the entire story. But this is not a film review.

Throughout the film, I kept asking myself two important questions:
- Who watches my blind side?
- Whose blind side do I watch?

What relationships am I in which I am protected from crippling experiences and keep those I care about from experiencing them?

Do I owe such protection to those outside my circle of care? And they to me?

Sometimes a film is just a film. Sometimes its not. And whether or not you consider it art, sometimes a film is a revelation. Sometimes it blindsides you.

Really?

2009-11-30T17:12:00.000-08:00

I live a fairly interesting life and every once in a while I actually wish that cameras were following me around to record it. For posterity certainly. Occasionally for verification. Sometimes for therapeutic reasons – as much as I recognize his show and edutainment, it can be nice to have Dr. Phil close so that folks can see how they behave. Because of course you're right.

But because I am an honest person, most people tend to believe me when I tell them that:

· Pakistani mullahs thought I, a boy, disrespected their women. My lack of strong secondary sex characteristics, greater than average height and short hair led me to be mistaken for a teenage boy in Pakistan in the spring of 2007. Having opened the gate to the women’s market, I was first grabbed by the male guard who stood outdoors and could not enter. Though it would have been dangerous for a woman to rebuff a man in such a manner, my reflexive and silent “how dare you” shook him off. Having entered, I was accosted by a woman who told me that no men were allowed. Answering that I was a woman, she retorted that I must prove it. I will and cannot, I replied, but then pulled my shirt tight to shut her up. The sight of my less than ample bosom caused her to choke on laughter and reply, “Many men look like this!” I decided not to stay any longer but when I went to leave found that my bosom investigator had reported my male status to town mullahs. When I left, thirty town men – all of them – were pointing AK-47’s at me. My male protectors, my Canadian brother-friend, body-guard and an official from the Aga Khan foundation were outside. Inside, however, was a female Nobel Peace Prize nominee of whom the men were afraid. She told them to put their guns down, that their women had not been defiled, that hairless, breastless, hipless, I was female and leaving. OR
· I was arrested by derelicts in Times Square. The time a group of derelicts jumped up from the floor near the turnstile of the New York City subway to arrest me for fare beating. I lived in Westchester County and was on my way to the doctor with a very high fever. I had a boyfriend who used Connecticut highway tokens when driving to see me and somehow had used one accidentally. I was placed in handcuffs, placed on the train. I was fingerprinted and photographed but was spared being put in the cage with the scary guys. I was allowed to leave and go to the doctor but was later sentenced to cleaning city parks for two months of Saturdays. Luckily, I look good in orange, even if the jumpsuit was less than flattering. The job was foul, but I did not find anything or anyone dead.
· Dead folks float all here all of the time. My mother and I were in Singapore, looking into the harbor. A rope tethered to the pier was tugged in a peculiar manner so I walked down the pier to see why that might be. Just then a boat sped by on the other side of the pier and a bloated, discolored, perhaps dead-for-a-week body floated out attached to the other end of the rope. I asked our tour guide to whom we should report this and was told that “dead folks float here all the time. The police just tie them up with ropes.” “Don’t families get notified?” we asked. “Or news reports get made?” She shrugged. “People sometimes come and look”, she said.
· I was almost arrested in a transvestite hooker raid. My friend, Grey and I went to see The Red Shoes in New York and returned to his mother’s home. As we turned the corner on 47th and 9th, about seven paddy wagons pulled up and yelled, Up against the wall! They pulled me away from Grey at which time I noticed something interesting. He was standing with a large group of white men and I was standing with a large group of black…women? Now, my face was freshly scrubbed, I had long hair pulled into two braids, each tied with a small bandanna. I wore a long blue-gray dress and brown seamans' sandals. These women wore bras, hot pants, fantastic wigs, four-inch heels and enough make-up to scrape into pastry bags. They were all black and Hispanic. All well over six feet in their heels. I am 6’1”. Most towered over me. As these women swallowed, I noticed Adam’s apples. I don’t have one. Men, I thought! As the police got ready to put me in the paddy wagon, I said, Look at me! I don’t have an Adam’s apple! And my father’s a minister. This would not be good. I am not calling my father and telling him that I got arrested because you think I'm a male prostitute! This plea did not move the police. The transvestites all yelled some version of, Leave that girl alone. No man is gonna pay money for her! Mainly their statements were not so clean. The police seemed to believe that I was not a good economic commodity. Helpful to my immediate situation of course, but every girl wants to be thought desirable. Even by scumbags. I thought they liked the young innocent girl look. At any rate, Grey and I were released. All of the men except Grey wore suits. I was not certain how you have to dress to be a John but apparently the girls had silently communicated to the police that Grey did look not rich to have been one of their walking-one-the-wild-side clients. Certainly these wo-men weren't Grey's type but they were wrong about his money. His family owned the neighborhood we were standing in and a few more on the West Side. This tranny hooker raide turned out to be a big deal arrest of New York's toniest business men; it was reported in the New York Times, the New York Post, and by every local TV station. And my father did not have to bail me out or worry, for this particular reason, about the state of my soul. Me and my innocent face were at Grey's house watching the raid unfold on TV.
· I look like a North African terrorist to French national security officials. I once took a French immersion class in Paris, living in a sixth floor walk-up in St. Germain des Pres in the 6th arrondissement. On a second visit, I saw my former landlady. The neighborhood Metro was bombed. When I was leaving the country, I was called out of the customs line and told that I was being held on suspicion of terrorism. My photos were destroyed - my camera looked jouralistic. Where did you get your fake American passport? Impossible question. Sing the French national anthem. I did. Say the American Pledge of Allegiance. I did. Why can you do both. My mother taught French. I was American. I watch a lot of war movies. So it was my turn (I could say these things pre-9/11, when I could not be held indefinitely). So no more questions, sirs. Please call the American Embassy. Polite but insistent.

So my life felt a bit like a reality show already before the term entered the lexicon. My life has sometimes seemed like The Amazing Race. Now it’s Lord, I Really Need to Get Out of This Chair! But this is my reality – I don’t manufacture it. Life happens when you choose to live it. Life is an action verb. So if you don’t think your life is interesting enough, you need to find a way to live it that is. You don't drop into someone elses' life, substitute faux fame and fantasy for living, or hope that the video will convince people that you're hot. While mine may sometimes be a dangerous life, its all mine. I travel to interview women making a difference in developing countries or see the challenges of living one's faith in monotheistic countries. I see what surprises I find in these places; they are never what I have gone seeking. My trips always have all possible safeguards designed into them. I don’t go rogue. My life is (almost) always a thoughtful life. Living your own life. Now that's hot!

What many people seem to forget is that, by definition, reality is real. Reality shows are not. They certainly have real elements but some are, many have scripted elements. Reality shows can be fun to watch. And some can even be helpful. The cooking, home decorating and renovating shows have got us past the initial pain of September 11th and have helped us nest during the recession. Martha has taught us to dream about paint chips and country chic;
Top Chef got us into the kitchen, as home cooks or as a generation of newly enrolled chefs; and The Biggest Loser sent overeaters to nutritionists, counselors and the gym.

Whether in helpful, silly, dangerous or demeaning shows, people want fame at all costs. They will endanger their children, our first responders and even the President of the United States. People used to earn fame; we lauded them for their genius, skill, courage and talent. Now, in an era when simply being frequently seen brings bank, its not surprising that many people confuse living one's life with being seen living one's life some form of a slightly manufactured life. Reality is turned on its head.

But if you choose to involve yourselves in its long arms as a way to have fun, earn prizes, have a chance at fame, or boost an existing personal brand, there should be some basic rules:
1. You do not prostitute your children on camera – Wife Swap, YouTube, and the national audition now known as Balloon Boy – to earn a spot on a reality show. You do not endanger the morals and values of those children nor, importantly, the lives and limited resources of first responders who, in an age when children’s lives are so often threatened, went out of their way to –unnecessarily, as it happens – ensure little Falcon's life and safety, and to keep him from crashing to earth in a balloon 20 feet in diameter. When I first saw the balloon, I assumed that an infant had crawled into it. It looked like a Jiffy Pop canister, flimsy and light. Eyes can deceive, but I recognized the Heene's from pop-ups on the internet. I was not surprised that this turned out to be a hoax. Richard and Mayumi Heene, since investigated by Social Services, have been indicted, are accused of a crime. To his credit, Balloon Boy himself - six year old Falcon Heene - must have been reading about George Washington in school that week. Through multiple on-camera episodes of vomiting, he could not tell a lie. We did it for a show.
2. You do not endanger the life of the President of the United States of America – We will put aside, for a moment, the terrible breaches by the White House Office of Protocol (which should have had their own staff member at the gate) and the Secret Service (who will typically make you wait even if they recognize you if they find no evidence of your invitation). It is not certain yet whether Tareq and Michaele Salahi can be criminally prosecuted. But if it turns out that they were not, in fact, invited to the White House, they have certainly committed the crime of terminal stupidity, of not thinking past their wish to be considered for the cast of the Housewives of Washington, of not wanting to increase their personal celebrity by hobnobbing with political power. For its Housewives, Bravo, the cable network, said it would be looking for women who have their pulse on the most important cultural events, political galas, gallery openings and fund-raisers in Washington society. Did it not occur to the Salahis that they could get staff persons in trouble if they talked their way in? Or that people in terrorist cells might now wonder how to recruit a lovely couple to try to sneak into a presidential event? (These are the alleged events - all is under investigation. The couple says that they were invited to the reception). Michaele had her hand on Joe Biden’s chest. She and her husband were close enough to the President, Vice President and inner circle to have use table implements for weapons, brought in deadly toxins and shut the world down. Luckily that was not their purpose. That appears to be stargazing. A look at their Facebook provides a less than flattering picture of their life goals. They brag about who they know, about jobs they have held (like Redskins cheerleader) that turn out not to be true, and a self-described wedding of the century (they forgot the rule that it’s best to let others laud you). New reports show the couple in rather unseemly legal skirmishes with Tareq’s parents regarding the ownership of the family-owned winery. Rather than giving people an opportunity to now think better of them than this picture might provide, they reportedly cancelled their free appearance on Larry King to enter a bidding war for a paid television appearance, though, this just in - December 1 found them on the Today Show, unpaid, seen everywhere. They stated that no one would disgrace the People's House by showing up uninvited. They also denied earlier having crashed the Black Caucus dinner at which President Obama was a guest. Most people save their paper copies of invitations from presidents so pony up, Salahis! This should be simple. Someone should have a record of you somewhere. You can make liars of those someones by revealing your data. None on your side doesn't hold up in the court of law or public opinion. None from the White House, either? Case closed. Though, in much the same way that Brazilian turtle poachers have been hired by that government as conservationists, perhaps the Salahis should consider new careers as security consultants. Or spies. After all, if they can get next to the world's most important Commander in Chief and his many minions (not to mention foreign heads of state), they may be able to sidle up next to Bin Laden in his distant cave.

Call it the Punk’d Age, where propriety cries out for a good prank and where all the world — even the White House — is a stage. And as “Octomom” has shown, getting noticed works.

Well, someone needs to stop watching at least some of what passes as reality television. When you stay stuck on stupid for too long, you run the risk of killing your brain cells. Those suckers don’t regenerate, either. Not yet. If you find yourself lower on gray matter than was previously the case, there is probably a game show on which you can beat your head against a wall, eat rotting organ meats, insult your dying grandmother for money, or run through a pile or bricks. Then you, too, may qualify for your own reality show. Have agents, handlers and assistants. Become faux reality persona of the Spencer and Heidi ilk. Or maybe star in a new COPS-like show called Presidential Secret Service. Word has it that there may be a few recently vacated jobs available. In this new age, anything appears to be possible. So reach for the stars. Or at least be photographed with them. Really?!

War's Slow Learning Curve

2009-11-29T17:32:00.000-08:00

The first recorded war in history occurred around 2700 B.C. This war between Sumer, an area now known as Iraq, and Elam, a portion of modern Iran, was fought close to Iraq’s main port city of Basra, a name familiar to Americans from the 1980’s conflict. In a region known by the Greeks as Mesopotamia, these sophisticated armies strategized and killed for age-old reasons – power and money, shown by claiming land and water rights and chiefly titles, settling ethnic and tribal rifts, stealing beautiful women animals (often equally valued), and raiding new technologies.

And so it remains 5000 years later.

We are apparently not one trial learners.

We have the terrible human flaw of preferring to be right at the cost of lives and land, families and famine, wealth and water.

At some point in each fight it becomes difficult to know what right is. Fights are not linear. They are circles that have no end. When fights begin the right and moral side may be clear; by the end, however, the very act of fighting leaves each side compromised. And for each compromised side, right is then a more apt description of their goals and former dignity than The Truth.

Smart negotiation and diplomacy says: these are our goals:
- To ensure that both sides of this conflict are treated with an unassailable dignity that is defined beyond our politics, nationalism and tribal expectations;
- To create a lasting peace that recognizes the equality of our countries, our people and our ways of life;
- To henceforth engage in conversations and activities that reinforce and enact the aforementioned goals.

Smart negotiation and diplomacy says, there is no way to finish this fight. While we may have started fighting 30, 20, or eight years ago, this war has an interminable history. And it is essential, even when one has been assailed, to understand the history of a people and a war before entering a conflict. How different might this America have been if we had understood the long history of conflicts in Central Asia? If we had known more about the strength of tribalism, ethnic and religious ties? Had we understood how topography and geography impact life and warfare?

Or, if we had said to ourselves: This time, let’s not respond as expected. With the world supporting us, we will rebuild our hurting families, cities and infrastructure against the possibility of this happening again. So God help you the next time. When you surprise bullies, they are stunned. When you do as they expect, they are thrilled and respond with their plans. As we have seen.

Smart negotiation and diplomacy asks what is fair? What do we want for our own children? What allows our country to survive and thrive? Whether developed, developing or underdeveloped, all countries share these goals for ourselves. We have often been cavalier about wanting them for the other guy. And even when our leaders are too out of touch to remember what basic needs are, some things make no sense: having filthy water and no electricity at the bottom of the snow-laden K-2 mountains in Pakistan. Having children orphaned by and infected with HIV/AIDS because life-saving medications are unavailable - in many parts of Africa, in some parts of the United States. Infant death from diahhrea. Death from starvation. Preventable if we declare wars to bring our citizens:

Clean water and air
· Healthy food
· Educated girls and boys
· Universal health care (including basic childhood vaccinations and assisted childbirth)
· Paved roads
· Sustainable forests
· Good relationships with neighbors

The US healthcare debate is stalled over what to include in its bills and how to contain costs. No one has thought long term. One need not be compassionate to figure this out. A mercenary mindset will get us there. If we want to remain a super-power, we must have healthy workers who are well-trained at their jobs. This requires well-educated people who are healthy enough to work regularly - universal access to health care and excellent educational and vocational opportunities get us there.

In developing countries, clean water stops child deaths from diarrhea. Assisted childbirth decreases the devastation and familial and community isolation resulting from obstetric fistulas. Educating girls enhances community life: smart girls increase economic productivity, make more independent choices, are physically healthier and become smart mothers who provide better opportunities for their children.

Having been rated the happiest place on earth among 30 democracies, Denmark seems to be doing something right. High taxes pay for all services, health care, disability services, parental leave, senior housing and free post-secondary education. Infants are so safe that they can nap outdoors. If life is good, high taxes are not to be feared. Keeping them low with bad roads, bad schools, no jobs and two wars seems like a bad deal. But the Danes, for all their recent happiness have certainly been warriors. They have a long military Viking history; their modern formation, the 2003 invasion of Iraq is the most recent example of the use of their military to assist one of their allies.

It seems, however, that smart countries such as Demark, all countries in fact, might recognize the importance of heeding Dr. Martin Luther Kings’ words: We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. In truth, we’ve somehow managed as fighters for 5,000 years. Clearly, were this to have been terribly problematic for the eons of those whom it has affected, it would have been stopped. Somehow, people have deemed it a necessary problem and have never ventured the possibility of asking what might happen if stopped caring who was right and worked out another solution.

It might be nice to sleep without wondering who is going to steal your wife, slit your throat, bomb your country, run away with your goats, rape your girls and women, detonate their bodies in your markets, make bombs of your planes, destroy your roads, deplete your water stores, create famine, turn your children into soldiers, terrorize…everyone, wreak havoc on your world, and make a mockery of the peace you thought you had.

War is over if you want it. War is over now.

After more than 5,000 years of war-induced bloodshed, it might be nice to actually learn something. And sleep with both eyes closed.

Where Bad Thanksgiving Poems Go For Posting

2009-11-25T16:48:00.000-08:00

Though bashed by the recession
And pulled down into depression
There's a day meant to remind us
That we should be thankful for

Too much food and
Crazy families
Cars that work and

Ripe cranberries
Sweet tater pie for Southerners
Pumpkin pie if from the North.

Wishing you a thankful day
For kith and kin
Drinkers of gin
For those who make your life pure hell
For those in life who wish you well.

Pour them whole into life's pie
Kiss them quick
Embrace the sky
And know that they're giving
The story you are living

Its richness
Its flavor
The wonder that you savor
Providing all you do and say
Perspective that will always stay
And that you'll celebrate
In faith
On this
Thanksgiving Day.

For Thankful Lives Be Perfect and Improving

2009-11-25T11:38:00.000-08:00

When asked how he was doing, John Sanford, a family friend now gone, used to say, I’m perfect and improving. Given who he was – a general, school superintendent, and supremely lauded person – I at first thought that this statement was a bit hubristic.

Then one day I was walking on the Cedar River outside my home in downtown Renton. There is nothing more perfect. Filled with whitefish, Coho, and Sockeye salmon, tiny freshwater crabs and snakes rustled in the grasses along the path. Otters and beavers hid out in the drainage pipes during the day but occasionally peaked out at passersby. Birds chirped, fluttered, flew by. The trees were glorious. Rabbits, geese and ducks were holding an annual convention near a bench.

The regulars nodded hello or stopped to say hello to each other and their dogs.

The sun was shining. My soul felt luminous.

And finally I understood. The world will always have problems. And behind every face that walked on the path is a story that may not be pretty. But we were created perfect. Our job in life is to work on ourselves, to create strong families and communities, to brighten the corners where we are.

So I was especially reminded on this amazing day that that was who I was. Absolutely perfect. And improving.

And that is who I will always be and must remember to work towards being, especially on less lovely days.

For this Thanksgiving Day, in addition to being thankful for all that we have, no matter how small, it is our task to remind ourselves of the gift of our perfection and to work on it.

Perfect and improving – that is our human task. And our wonderful opportunity.

Happy Thanksgiving.

False Fall

2009-11-17T16:59:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I was invited to lunch at the University of Washington Faculty Club on a most lovely day. It was early afternoon fall blustery. I was sitting with a new friend, a wryly funny new friend, to whom I could barely listen because the view was not just beautiful but distracting. Distractingly wrong. I thought for a moment that I was at the Yale Club or the Harvard Club then reminded myself that I was looking north and east at the U-Dub stadium, the Seattle Children’s Hospital, the Montlake Bridge and the Cascade Mountains. South and slightly west were the University Hospital, Puget Sound and a portion of downtown. This view was stunning. What was shocking, however, were the trees. They were wrong. They were red, orange, yellow, deciduous. Seattle is the Evergreen State. Certainly, you could always see a few alders here and there during autumn. Or go through the Arboretum which is designed to show a wide variety of trees from around the world- that's its job. But the streets - green. None of this outrageously colorful stuff.

When I went away to college in Poughkeepsie, New York, my mouth fell open at the cacaphonous color of the trees. And later, when in school in New England or living in various east coast places, I loved driving along the coast to see the ways that the cold concentrated sugar in their leaves. Darker and richer and brighter colors the colder it got. An amazing gift of nature. A feature of the eastern climes.

I have been away from Seattle a while, moved back five years ago, and have been moving around at ground level. Since 9/11 people have been nesting in new ways, moving here from other places and planting non-native trees. So this does not look like home to me. It looks like New England. Like Pennsylvania. Massachusetts. Vermont.

It is undeniably beautiful to see such a diversity of trees in Seattle. But unaccustomed. Inappopriate to place. And now, somehow ubiquitous. Like the going to the mall. No matter where you go in the country, they have the same stores, the same Botoxed clerks at the makeup counters, and the same harried bargain seekers. Now, as on the other far coast, we have the same trees. They are familiar to me and I will enjoy them. But the uniqueness of place is slipping away.

The list of stories we have to tell about yesterday is speeding up much sooner than I imagined. A friend of mine told me just the other day that someone asked him, "What's a dial tone?," causing him to reflect on the fact that they don't exist on cell phones.

Well, we are losing our city's claim on our arboral contribution to the Evergreen State. It makes me wistful...and a bit sad.

Perhaps I need to pull out my Lincoln Logs and jacks, my game of Twister and see if I can find a rotary phone on EBay. I'll take it all and go sit under a fir tree and look backwards. Perhaps I will sing, Where have all the good times gone, long time passing....

Live By the Golden Rule - Again

2009-11-14T13:51:00.000-08:00

In a church basement on lower Capital Hill, a group of 100 people sat in rapt attention watching a movie screen. Across it walked a sample of mankind, all races, ethnicities, ages, sizes and shapes, in a variety of settings. Looking directly into the camera, they recited the words that the group had come to Seattle’s St. Patrick Catholic Church and thousands of locations around the world – houses of faith, homes, and on their personal computers – to hear on November 12, 2009.

The principle of compassion lies at the heart of all religious, ethical and spiritual traditions, calling us always to treat all others as we wish to be treated ourselves.

Thus began the Charter for Compassion, the brainchild of Karen Armstrong, a former nun who is considered to be one of the most original thinkers on the role of religion in the modern world. Celebrated for her notorious and provocative thinking on how religion has separated us and might unite us, this British author of twenty books on comparative religion rose to international prominence with her best-selling book, A History of God, which details the history of the three great monotheistic religions, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

In 2008, Armstrong won the TED (Technology, Entertainment and Design) Award, which honors “ideas worth spreading. This $100,000 prize affords the winner a wish. Karen Armstrong’s wish was for help in “creating, launching and propagating” an international Charter for Compassion to help restore the Golden Rule as central to religious practice and daily life. Religious luminaries – the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu among them – signed on to signal their support for the project.

In some ways it is terrible that we need to be reminded to treat each other well. But this is a simple idea that reminds us that, as Armstrong says, we must “put compassion at the center of morality and religion” and through it, restore our relationships, communities, and capacity for peace.

Armstrong made clear early on that this was not simply a feel-good interfaith effort. With TED serving as her genie, she engaged the three-part wish strategy.

Part One – Internet Outreach. TED helped the Charter evolve through a massive online process. More than 150,000 people contributed their ideas to the document. The Charter was finalized in February 2009 by the Council of Conscience, made up of well-recognized religious leaders from five major religions and almost every continent.

Part Two – Inclusiveness. She invited everyone to the table, including atheists, agnostics and secular humanists. People of faith and of no faith must treat each other compassionately. While the Charter’s language is targeted at the Golden Rule, Armstrong’s inclusion of nonbelievers is in line with her renegade status and her humanism. Such inclusivess can be a challenge for some religious people to understand, but compassion does not work when the world is divided into “us” and “them.” All we need do is look at the Middle East, Afghanistan and Iraq to be reminded that God is mocked by such divisions.

Part Three – Hard Truths. The Charter does not mince words. It calls on us as individuals and as religious institutions to mind our manners, if not because we know we should, then because the world’s survival requires that we must. To act or speak violently out of spite, chauvinism, or self-interest, to impoverish, exploit or deny basic rights to anybody, and to incite hatred by denigrating others—even our enemies—is a denial of our common humanity. We are asked to secure a compassionate future by ensuring that youth are given accurate and respectful information about other traditions, religions and cultures.

Faith is often as simple as this – that we treat one another well. This simplicity has the potential to become powerful political action. Those who have taken up the Charter include individuals who have affirmed it – 12,000 as of this writing - as well as houses of faith and secular institutions that are displaying it in its entirety. These include the Sydney Opera House, the Garden of Forgiveness in Beirut, the Ramallah Friends Meeting House, and the National Cathedral, Religious Action Center and Washington Hebrew Congregation in Washington, DC. It can also be found posted on the websites of many groups including the local Compassionate Action Network.

Read the Charter for Compassion in its entirety and see the video, after which you may also join a growing number of people who are affirming the Charter. Learn. Share. Act. Recall the lessons learned from your family. Or in your houses of faith.

The Charter's launch is just the clarion call for us to behave our way into the Golden Rule. Every day in every way. “Religious teaching only makes sense when you put it into action,” Armstrong contends. In this light, emphasizing the compassionate side of religions’ followers should push them toward compassionate action.

Or as Jiminy Cricket once said: Always let your conscience be your guide.

Seattle's Spawn

2009-11-08T18:07:00.000-08:00

I love this time of year. Salmon are spawning right outside my windows. I awaken in the ash-colored morning to see them twirling between tree boughs. Normally pink, these sockeye and coho are now bright red. Their once rounded noses are needle-shaped, serving as tools for shaping the riverbed into nests. Eggs are deposited and male partners whip their tails in frenzied circles to cover the nests with soil. Once done with their life's task, the salmon float into and are trapped by the rushes at the rivers' edge where they become one with the river.

It is the marvelous annual journey in a four-year cycle to create life that nourishes and feeds all of the life in this diverted branch of a river that is barely in the suburbs. Less than a mile from Seattle, there are whiting, otter, beavers, snakes, freshwater crab, kingfishers, eagles. Underwater plants. Things that live under the rocks. And beautiful, beautiful trees. It’s a great place to live. And it's Fall. Autumn. This wonderful season that smells so beautifully of the decay of change. The river’s life is being replenished. Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise (really, weather has changed and we are now in the flood plains), it will repeat next year. And give me hope that, no matter how much the world changes, some things are, at least for now, constant.

Nobel's Noble Hope is You

2009-10-11T05:15:00.000-07:00

The awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize to President Barack Obama stunned America. And the President most of all. Citing "his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples," in particular, nuclear disarmament, Europe was, of course, considerably less surprised by the choice than we. Exceptionally pleased with a president who sought to restore America’s moral standing in the world, they honored him for being who he was and who he was not – George W. Bush.

Having selected him last February, his presidency was not, however, the essential selection criterion. His galvanizing campaign was. The manner in which he gave hope to the world and changed the international political landscape - through the philosophical underpinnings of the campaign, his capacity for truth-telling – these were factors influential to the Nobel Committee.

“Faith, we are told in Hebrews 11:1, is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

Faith and hope, this Bible verse intones, are intangible things. Beyond its illusive and ethereal nature, hope, candidate Obama, opined, is even audacious. It is more than risky and outlandishly daring to hold himself, his country and the world not just to high expectations, but to a reasonable ones in an era where common sense in increasingly uncommon.

And so, for challenging the us to be our best selves, to seek consensus and eschew discord, for promising to work toward global cooperation in all arenas and to work with American enemies, for daring through an accident of birth to look like the world’s majority, Barack Obama will receive the Nobel Peace Prize, a singular honor.

And one that he cannot enjoy. It’s a controversial honor at home and abroad. Dan Balz of the Washington Post wrote that many were disconcerted that the honor was presented to “a president still in his first year in office with no major accomplishments internationally”. France’s Liberation noted that the prize was deserved “because he’s Obama, with his life symbolically on three continents (and) because his success has become synonymous with dignity and hope.” The New York Times called it a “mixed blessing”, while the China News (an unofficial missive) referred to the win as “an award of encouragement.” Arab newspapers reported their concerns that inspirational the Nobel prizewinner, already engaged in two wars, may one day bomb Iran.

Given this Obama’s, not surprisingly, was a most somber press conference. While any such honor must be met with humility, there was no hint of joy that morning, no trademark bounce in his step, no sly smile. Certainly, the president felt the need to stave off the criticisms of the far right by stating that he may have accomplished less than other recipients. These include Mother Theresa, the 14th Dalai Lama, Martin Luther King, Presidents Teddy Roosevelt, Woodrow Wilson and Jimmy Carter and Vice President Al Gore. He felt it important to state to all listeners that was a community award, requiring collective effort. "I will accept this award as a call to action," Obama said.

Throughout his statement, the psychologist in me saw a different president than has typically presented himself to the nation and world. No matter what the circumstance, President Obama has been a smiling, jovial man. On Friday, October 9, 2009, the world was too much with him. We saw a sad, even depressed, man. And he said something, rather quickly, that slipped by. The president indicated that his daughters had awakened him (though Robert Gibbs had also called). He usually awakens for workouts at 5:30 a.m. I fear that Congressional rancor and community angers, perhaps even the day-to-day labors of the job may be wearing him down; they have certainly lined his face and turned his hair gray. Presidents age at two to three times the rate of the rest of us. Nine months in and it shows. He’s tired. Because he’s not done nothing. The man has been busy with two wars, bank bailouts, car company assists, the closing of Guantanamo, health care, global warming treaties, and meeting the needs of every imaginable domestic and international concerns and constituencies on a daily basis while fielding personal death threats. That's enough to make you sleep through the trainer.

Certainly there are many who believe that peace-making leadership is about more than inspiration and that making nice will not end wars, stop Iran from building nuclear weapons, keep the Taliban from deadly assembly across the Afghan-Pakistan border, truly green the environment, get health care for all by November, shut up Rush Limbaugh, or make Michael Steele understand that he would not have his job if the president had not been elected.

Obama could be a bit less deliberative and use the bully pulpit more often and more effectively. We know he gets angry (recall his face when Joe Wilson yelled, "You lie!?). It's possible to work toward yes and, if yes is not forthcoming, to make a deliberative (rather than cooperative) decision. It is possible to "prescribe" an outcome. For example, it is highly likely that the messy summer could have been less so had President Obama said to Congress that he wanted them to first have a conversation about healthcare as a structure for helping people, then challenged them to work collaboratively on a bill that had the following components - a public option, a balanced budget, and provisions that better regulated insurance companies. That way, the work might have been done earlier and, if it had to go to the summer, many questions would have been answered in advance of the town halls. But that is apparently not his style. He appears to be governing like you teach a graduate seminar - assuming the students have the goal of figuring out the problem for a beloved teacher or a grade. Not so.

But this is what Obama has absolutely right. He told us that hope was an outrageous thing. The Nobel Peace Prize Committee believed him. We should act like we do too. In accepting the award, President Obama has broken the mold again by asking us all – the world – to brighten the corner where we are. So let's quit waiting on him for inspiration. Get cracking on your own steam. The man is tired.

Liar, Liar, Health Care on Fire

2009-09-28T15:51:00.000-07:00

Students have returned to school in recent weeks. As a first assignment, many will be asked to answer a familiar question: “What did you do for your summer vacation?” Depending on who they are, there answers may turn out to be surprisingly political.

Though we often forget the power inherent in who we are and what we do, children think their parents set the sun in the sky every morning. Teens, while hormonally designed to distrust parental authority and occasionally behave badly, nonetheless count on us to set the limits that make them feel safe. Parents have as a foremost responsibility the modeling of appropriate behavior.

One of the beauties of American freedom is our ability to speak and, to some extent, behave freely. But in summer town hall conversations that were to have been about health care has emerged a virulence of feeling for President Obama too profoundly deep to have been about health care alone.

People claiming their Second Amendment rights took automatic weapons to meetings close to where President Obama was speaking. CNN’s Rick Sanchez reported a sermon titled, Why I Hate Barack Obama given by an Arizona preacher:

Turn back to Psalm 58 and let me ask you this question -- why should Barack Obama melt like a snail? Why should Barack Obama die like the untimely birth of woman? Why should his children be fatherless and his wife a widow, as we read in this passage? Well, I'll tell you why. Because since Barack Obama thinks it's OK to use a salty solution, right? -to abort the unborn, because that's how abortions are done, my friend. We're using salt. And I'd like to see Barack Obama melt like a snail tonight. Aired August 28, 2009 - 15:00

This is free speech that rides the line of incitement to violence. Following this sermon, Chris Broughton, a young black man who was a member of this congregation showed up toting an automatic weapon at a meeting on health care held by President Obama in Phoenix . When a guns right lobbyist was asked later that week on the Chris Matthews Show about whether gun owners should have been allowed concealed weapons in the arena with the president, the answer was yes. The reason: they are trustworthy and wish to defend the rights of their country.

The summer’s town meetings differed by party. While I must make the disclaimer that I am a registered Democrat, there did appear to be a difference in the town halls held by Democrats and Republicans politicians. Democratic meetings, while not without some noise, let people tell stories of no insurance and bankruptcy and made the most noise about whether or not there should be a single payer v public insurance options. People on the far left expressed their anger at the president’s unwillingness to firmly state a position for single-payer health care, a great system for coverage that could never get voted in. Most anger was expressed toward insurance companies. No individual who told a personal story was shouted down and the president was called no unseemly names. His process was sometimes criticized but never his character.

The Republic town halls were decidedly different. The president was called a socialist, a fascist and a Nazi. Working people with significant medical conditions who told stories about losing health care insurance were denigrated. They were often told to get charity care or Medicare or Medicaid – two much talked about encounters occurred with Party Chair Michael Steele and Representative Eric Cantor of Virginia. In addition to being inhumane, these responses did not take into account that there are circumstances when one can be broke and yet not qualify for government programs. Nor did they acknowledge the inconsistency of the typical Republican small government argument – it seems unreasonable to recommend increasing numbers of people to programs that are anathema to one’s political philosophy. Additionally, lots of the shouting from the crowd at the Republican meetings misunderstood basic truths of health care as it currently exists; for example, people insisted that no one mess with their Medicare without the knowledge that it is a well-run government program.

One conservative response to government was tea parties. While tea parties have often been thought of as the games we play with our children or the elite white-gloved, crustless sandwich functions of ladies who lunch, they also have a distinctly revolutionary history in America. Many far right conservatives and some independents have spent the summer traveling on the Tea Party Express . While touted as a grass roots organization, this is, in fact a well-funded, highly structured organization that has a new revolution as its goal. People state that they want limited government (rather than responsible government. So how are roads, schools, parks managed? What is the purpose of an elected government or laws? How is civic chaos avoided?).

Many tea party attendees also appear to believe Obama’s presidency to be illegitimate. At these tea parties could be seen placards of the president dressed as a bone-nosed witch doctor, telling the president that he and the recently deceased Senator Kennedy belonged together in death, and photos and shirts of Obama as Hitler. Parents and their children held these signs and shouted incendiary slogans. This is not a model for raising polite children. It’s a model that leads to fights on school buses and kids who don’t understand what they have done wrong.

So it has been an outrageously angry summer. More heat than light in the town halls. Concepts of America’s governance not well thought out. On the right, Glenn Beck calling President Obama a racist, others insinuating that the president is not an American citizen despite evidence to the contrary. Rush Limbaugh and Beck connecting Obama to many negative and sometimes outrageous behaviors of community groups. The shouting has been from conservatives on the far right of the Republican Party. The mainstream of the party has not, however, consistently distanced itself from its ugliness. As a result, the roiling pool of this very climate may well have contributed to what made even an incensed Representative Joe Wilson of South Carolina feel so comfortable calling the president a liar during a joint session of Congress. Normally Southern gentlemen know how to keep their anger under wraps. The far left has its wingnuts, too. People wedged into corners from which they won’t budge on health care, more concerned about the position than getting some coverage for the majority. People yelling about the right in ways not attached to the data. From both directions, yelling.

Invoking the 1978 murders of San Francisco mayor, George Moscone, and gay activist, Harvey Milk , House Speaker Nancy Pelosi stated her concerns that this form of heated rhetoric could have devastating national consequences.

In Joe Wilson’s significantly black state, South Carolina has 15.4% premature births, 10.1% low birth weight babies, and a 9.4% infant mortality rates, exceeding those of much of the country. While these rates result from a complex of state race and demographic factors, for its Republican majority to not want public insurance options for its impoverished people is a questionable choice. If we imagine that the state wants nothing else but to be economically viable, then finding a way to enhance community health is vital. Calling the president a liar because he wants to create health care for all means not helping the people who helped vote you into office.

It is also fascinating to note that Representative Joe Wilson has some credibility problems in any attempts to portray himself as race-neutral. He did not shout, “You lie!” until the president was talking about immigration. A black man talking about brown people was somehow terrifying.

Of course, this health care bill will not allow illegal immigrants to get health care services. But it should. We need to be honest that we actually welcome illegal immigrants into the U.S. to do jobs in farming and service industries at disgracefully low wages that benefit business owners. If they become ill, the truth is that they are not terribly likely to go to health care clinics or hospitals because of fear of deportation. Which means that any infectious agents make them more ill and weaken their families and our communities. Ultimately, it makes more sense to find a way to provide amnesty and a road to citizenship for those who have been in the country for a proscribed period and, at a minimum, catastrophic insurance. This, then, is also, a decision that mixes economics and race to bad effect.

Former President Jimmy Carter stated his belief that an “overwhelming portion” of responses to President Obama stemmed from racism, a disbelief of the dying political right that a black man had been elected president. Former President Clinton does not believe the attacks to believe the attacks on President Obama to be primarily racist. He thinks that during economically challenging times, people feel unsettled and get angry. Of course, this is a profoundly economically stressful moment in our history. Clinton does note, however, his view that a vast right wing conspiracy is out for President Obama, not as strong, but still as virulent, as that which challenged his presidency.

I tend to side more with President Clinton that most of the response to the president is not racist. Most people are angry because they have no idea when they will next work, how they will provide good futures for their children, when they can dream again. People are scared. But those few on the very far right who are worried about the country’s changing demographics – the browning of America - are perfectly described by President Carter’s concerns and whipped into absolute frenzies by the Beck’s and Limbaugh’s of the world. In this sense it is absolutely true that “once you go black you can’t go black.” The tans of intermarriage are permanent. People who enter the country stay. Maybe in your neighborhood. Equal opportunities mean that someone may qualify for your job. Or get to be your president. For those who fears take on this tint, it explains why there has been an increase in the amount of ammunition sold in recent months and an increase in hate groups . Or why some parents seem to have no qualms about having their children shouting terrible things about another human being of any standing or authority.

The Golden Rule says that we should treat others as we want to be treated. We should not threaten the President. We should not tell lies. We should not dehumanize others. We should ensure healthcare for everyone because it is the right thing to do. We should provide excellent models for our children.

And because the summer’s mess over healthcare meant that no one learned a thing about it this summer, here is a great Time Magazine article by Kate Pickert that lays out exactly what you need to know as well as a fascinating book by T.A. Reid called The Healing of America: A Global Quest for Better, Cheaper, and Fairer Health Care. Sorry I did not get to do it. I was deafened by the noise.

Carpe Doodle Doo!!

2009-08-09T06:07:00.000-07:00

Having now been in San Jose, Costa Rica for a week, I am reminded that roosters crow bright and early every morning, announcing, as we have always been led to believe, the break of dawn. What I have never noticed about their crowing patterns until now is that they also crow all..day..long. Presumably, it is their job, having been gloriously and purposely designed by the Maker in just this manner.

We too, had a purposeful design at one time. It has been altered by the bright lights and noise patterns of city living that engulf most of us. Our natural circadian rhythms - those cyclical changes that occur over 24 hour periods - have been nearly obliterated by blackout shades, overwork, sleeping pills, and noise and light pollution. As a result, we are missing some important aspects of life: the ability to control our own body clocks (or more accurately to allow them to have control over us), to to manage our lives less stressfully, and to see the beauty of the sunrise.

Sometimes I wish my body worked differently than it does. I am too attuned to my circadian clock, to smell, to touch, to temperature. I begin to awaken each morning when light and temperature shift, around 3:30 a.m. - this is gradual lightening of sleep that would be lovely were I a farmer. But alas, I don't have my forty acres and were they to be mine, I am ill-equipped to be the mule. By the time the sun is up (and this changes seasonally, a joint function of light and temperature), I am wide awake. It is an annoyingly useful tool. And it is how we were made. A millenia ago. I am a throwback of a modern woman.

I have not lost my animal sense of smell, either. Which means that I can smell animals. And dirty socks. And you. And other things. I don't mind not needing an alarm clock (I know that's not a smell - its a reminder of another sense that my cavewoman self has clung to). Or knowing that a deer is nearby. But some of the funk that presents itself can be, well, alarming, off-putting, stomach-turning. And no one else smells it, typically, or as early as I do.

One of my mother's favorite stories about my nose is that we were walking one day on Chicago's long Miracle Mile and I was looking around for something. "What is it?," she asked. "A horse," I replied. She said that there were no horses in sight, as we could see for blocks and blocks, extremely long blocks. We walked six of them and around the corner of the sixth was a horse. My mother has learned that my nose knows. As well she should have known. I inherited my nose from my maternal grandfather who, with an eighth grade education was a foundry metalurgist. He smelled metals to discern their components for munitions and battleship components in WWII, then later trained Ph.D. students in this skill. Most of us don't need such finely tuned noses so have lost their capacity to do more than is absolutely necessary for our protection from harmful substances and to indulge us in the beauty that wafts into our lives through flowers, delicious meals, and the powdered scents of newborns. Trackers, many indigenous peoples, perfumers, have been blessed (or cursed with) with their original sensory capacities for much more. And other folks like me, who do not use our noses in our livelihoods, simply smell more of the world than we know what to do with. But are grateful, mostly, even when it stinks. The other side is glorious.

Its a glorious reminder to get ourselves back. To awaken with the sun. To fall asleep naturally. To remember all of our five senses - sight, smell, hearing, touch, and taste - lingering on each of them just long enough to push past our normal hurry. Life is short. Showers provide an opportunity to feel individual drops of water, in addition to getting clean. Passionfruit pie should be slowly savoured. Food is for more than nourishment; it is to give the palate joy, it is to provide an environment where relationships can be shared. Homes can filled with flowers, the scents of which we can learn to distinguish. We each give off our own distinct aromas - if we get good we can smell each other's arrivals. (But as I have already warned, be sure to wear clean socks so as to protect the other).

So the rooster has just crowed again, an hour past dawn. It turns out that their crowing is territorial (these strutting men with their finely turned coxcombs want to control their women in what is apparently a cross-species trait) and social (they crow because they hear other cocks crowing). I think their lack of chivalry aside, the Lesson of the Rooster to us humans may be this: roosters crow to remind us of who we used to be, and who we might be again.

Global Warming in Seattle?

2009-07-29T10:52:00.000-07:00

Just a short note today because its too hot to think. Cliff Mass, meteorologic scientist at the University of Washington says that we will not be able to truly assess global warming for 100 years. I understand the science of this. Other scientists say that various "hot spots" around the globe are not evidence of warming, that taken as a whole the world is not actually getting warmer. I've not looked at that data. But as a scientist, I understand the importance of looking at data in the aggregate. I also understand the essential nature of assessing cases to see if they teach us something. Anything at all.

So what might it mean that today Seattle will be over 100 degrees for the first time ever? Or simply tie the too-hot 100 degrees of Summer 1994. It has already been in the 90's for a week. The Pacific Northwest is not equipped for such climates. We have no air conditioning in our homes. Movie theaters are making money. People are flooding the malls and grocery stores just to stay cool. I will have a crazy electric bill because I am running a portable AC unit, inefficiently, but I work at home. I am not mall ready yet; that takes energy. And the heat has made me loopy to boot. With a brain apparently attuned to 70 degrees and cells already degrading due to age, the additional 30 degrees have been - how do you spell that word - devestatin?

So how does Seattle have, in one year, never before seen floods, rains, landslides and heat. I am on the lookout for locusts. And then Armageddon.

Beer Today, Gone Tomorrow

2009-07-29T09:00:00.000-07:00

Lucia Whalen never imagined that being a good citizen would set off a national explosion about race.

We now we know that the tape made by Ms. Whalen, the passerby who called 911 to report to the Cambridge police a possible break-in at Professor Gates' home never once mentioned the race of the men until asked. Instead, she noted that it may have been the home of the "gentlemen" she saw because they had luggage and that it appeared that the front door was stuck. When twice asked by the dispatcher whether the men were white, black or Hispanic, Ms. Whalen replied that one might have been Hispanic and that she had no idea about the other.

What are the reasons that police officers ask about race? Identification of some sort certainly is important. But there are certainly other ways to ask. Having seen a shooting victim walking toward me on my walking path two weeks ago, I was more generally asked about the man when I called 911 after specifying the emergency nature of his injuries. My responses then used by the dispatcher to gain increasingly more specific information as appropriate. "Can you describe him for me?" He is a young man - 20 ish - perhaps white Hispanic. What is he wearing? A dark shirt, but it is so blood stained I cannot tell if it is blue or black. How tall do you estimate he is? I am 6'1'' so I estimate him to be about 5'8''. From what direction did he come? Etc.

I volunteered the race of the shooting victim. Ms. Whalen did not mention it. So how did the police report misattribute statements of race to her? Its a curious and disturbing question? Did Sergeant Crowley simply add the race in as a descriptor in an innocent manner. Did he profile Professor in some manner? Angry black man, perhaps, even if the Professor might have had a right to be?

There are generational factors that make Gates' anger more likely as well. He is of an age to have experienced the endstage dregs of racism as fought for in the Civil Rights movement. Moreover, he is a Southerner from a small town; he has often referenced the racism he experienced as a child in his writings. Furthermore, formerly in an interracial marriage, he ran headlong into the social and societal responses from whites and black that attend to such important decisions of the heart.

Crowley voted for Obama and tried to save the life of Celtics superstar Reggie Lewis by giving him mouth to mouth rescusitation as he died 16 years ago. In both cases, his support was race-neutral.

And Ms. Whalen made a call in which she did not mention race. She did what we are all asked to do. She is now receiving death threats from some quarters and will, today, hold a press conference.

This is a reminder that we never know what we are confronting when we meet someone new, when we step onto or walk by someone's real or metaphorical porch, when we look into someone's eyes. It is why we should always suspend judgment until we have real data. The old adage about walking in someone else's shoes comes to mind. Gotta think fast, of course.

And it can start with beer, though perhaps some local brews will be better at stimulating the economy and the national imagination. Rather than each of them drinking their favorite beer, wouldn't it be symbolically lovely if the Professor and the Officer chose beers for each other, or drank the same micro-pub brew when they meet at the White House tomorrow? The White House economic advisors can have some conversations about Massachusetts hop production, support of local brew pub operators and the like. Race and the economy, in one fell swoop.

And why not? If the best address in the free world can't inspire something other than a high-toned buzz, heaven help us.

Stuck on “Stupid”?: The Gates to Post-Racial America

2009-07-25T13:57:00.000-07:00

This is what made Professor Henry Louis Gates angry

Given the national discussion, talk-show tumult, and arm-chair refereeing we have been embroiled in as a result of the July 16, 2009 arrest of Professor Gates in his Cambridge home, America has learned, much to its dismay, that the garden gate is stuck wide open in non-post-racial America. Before acknowledging that his statement that the police had “acted stupidly” may have “ratcheted” up the divisions increasingly evident not just between these two men but the national factions they increasingly represented, President Barack Obama made the conciliatory outreach for which he is known.

But before talking solutions, let’s discuss why Professor Gates was angry (which also goes a fair ways towards explaining the President’s initial response).

There is a promise held out all children in the United States of America. It is this: if you work hard, you can become whatever you want to be. It is a promise that has had a certain fervency and occasionally bitter poignancy for African American children: if you are an excellent student, work hard at your job, stay out of legal trouble, and create right networks, you can be anything, including – though some have never believed it until now – the President of the United States. Having lived into that dream, Dr. Gates is a literary critic, writer, editor and public intellectual, often referred to as the nation's most famous black scholar. He is the Alphonse Fletcher University Professor at Harvard University, where he is Director of the W. E. B. Du Bois Institute for African and African American Research. These are singular accomplishments, all of which he has earned through his hard work and scholarship.

It is a shock then to find your dream of America – and of who you are in it – trampled on inside the safety of your own home. Or shackled in handcuffs on your porch, which being outside your home, allows your arrest.

Every black person in the country can certainly attest to having been profiled. It is our responses to the profiling – often – that makes the critical difference. My first profiling experience was as a 12 year old uniformed private school student leaving mid-term exams. I stumbled into an anti-war protest and was grabbed by a police officer who ignored white rabble rousers to bean me with his billy club and give me a face full of tear gas. Wrong, yes. Maddening, absolutely. Internationally, I apparently look like a terrorist. I have been seriously profiled in all of its diasporic forms. But never in my own house. Nor you, most likely, in yours.

Dr. Gates statement, “Don’t you know I am?” has been roundly criticized by the political right as arrogant and hubristic. Perhaps it was. But his feelings were also hurt. The whole affair is a tragedy of misunderstandings. Gates had done everything he had been told to do to make it to the top rung. He had just returned, exhausted, from a trip to China on which he had be treated as an honored expert. Yet upon his return home, he found a police officer at his door asking him to prove that it was his home. Because his front door was jammed, Gates had his driver help him force it open. A passerby had called, identifying him and his driver as black burglars. It is curious that Gates was not recognized. This possibly represents a consistent and race-based misunderstanding, though Gates was actually grateful for the vigilance of the passerby. Gates is a small man who limps and requires a cane to walk. He is quite an unlikely thief. He knew this. He said that he showed his identification but asked Crowley to show his and that Crowley refused. After a lifetime of doing exactly the right thing, perhaps this conversation with this officer in his house was a bit too much to bear.

This is what made Sergeant James Crowley angry

Sergeant James Crowley became angry because he knew that he was, as President Obama later informed the nation, “an outstanding police officer and a good man.” Crowley knew that he had previously been selected to teach a course on racial profiling for a police training academy.

Crowley was answering a Cambridge neighborhood call about an in-progress breaking and entering by two black men made by a passerby. Crowley knew that seven homes in the neighborhood had been burgled the previous week. Apparently, when Professor Gates answered his door, Crowley was unsure if Gates was safe, thinking perhaps that two dangerous men were hiding in the house. It seems from what we have heard about the interchange between the men that concern about Gates’ safety may not have been adequately communicated.

According to Sergeant Crowley, a 911 call came from a passerby reporting that two men were attempting to force open the door at Professor Gates' Harvard Square home. The rest of the story is the same if the word alleged precedes them – travel, jammed door, home owner. By Crowley’s account, Gates refused to show his ID when asked, behaving in a “belligerent and tumultuous” manner. Sergeant Crowley told the press that he then arrested Gates for disorderly conduct after the professor followed him outside. Crowley additionally stated that, though warned, Gates continued his verbal tirade against the officer in spite of several warnings.

Though Professor Gates has consistently denied that he was verbally abusive to Sergeant Crowley, the police report is replete with insults, including the low blow, “I’ll talk to your mama outside.” If Gates indeed said this, it’s not nice. But it begs the question of why he was asked to go outside. Was Gates being asked outside to be arrested? The charges were later dropped.

Looking at the other side
The old debate trick is to know the other side well. Would an equally successful white man, having identified himself as the home owner have been arrested in the same circumstances? Does the color of the officer matter?

And what is the lesson to young people watching? That they can mouth off at the police officers and expect no consequences? The most important form of authority that police officers have is not their guns by their moral authority. Sergeant Crowley certainly believed his to have been breached; while officers around the country seem equally split on how they would have responded, it is discretionary procedure for many to regain authority in volatile situations by making an arrest. A crowd was at this point watching. Crowley may have wanted to ensure that a lesson was learned.

The other truth is that urban policing (although Cambridge is does not fit this definition) is simply going to be hard work because citizens of color, given a challenging history, are not necessarily going to be pleased to see the police. The training that Sergeant Crowley had provided at the police academy should have made him exquisitely sensitive to this. Even if this case did not fit the police definition of profiling, the report was of two black men. Professor Gates clearly felt profiled (“What, because I’m a black man in America?”). Exceptional patience will be required to create good community relationships. Any number of cities around the country have done an exceptional job of turning these relationships around.

What’s stupid here?
Perception is not 20/20 vision. It changes based on a range of biopsychosocial factors. We don’t know what these men were thinking on the day that they met. I found myself wondering, though, if class, confounded by race, figured into their interaction. Dr. Gates is upper class, the police sergeant blue collar. Both are proud men. Both know how to behave. We often don’t deal with wrongs perceived through cultural and emotional lenses in a rational manner. These responses go back generations. Centuries. Eons. They are housed in our limbic systems in two sections of our brains: the archipallium or primitive (reptilian) brain that manages self-preservation through aggressive actions or the more advanced palleopallium or intermediate brain, tasked with managing emotions. But when they felt insulted by the other, are they each thinking, automatically, “How dare you?” Then race and class and primitive brains took over. Except that it should not have for Sergeant Crowley. Whether or not he had trained other officers about the dangers inherent in racial profiling, he has been conditioned to take abuse from members of the public. It is not a pleasant part of the job to be sure. But if Professor Gates was being abusive while on his own property, for the Sergeant to have escalated the situation by arresting him was an abuse of his discretion. He could have left and cursed him on the ride back to the stationhouse.

Some back story is that Cambridge is (mostly) Harvard and everyone knows it. It annoys some of those not in the circle. For Harvard, the banks stay open late. The Post Office in Harvard Square is open every day. Harvard at 400 years of age is a city inside Cambridge, and stating one’s relationship to it either impresses or angers.

President Obama has been loathe to talk about race and this incident makes it clear why. At the 100th anniversary of the NAACP, a black audience, he says, no excuses can be allowed for living into the dream that can become the achievement of his and Dr. Gates’ lives. There is no special formula, no genius in it. Just hard work and a leveling of the playing field that can start with parental attention and community support. When Obama spoke to a national audience about his personal response to a friend’s pain, Rush Limbaugh stated that the President only comes alive with talking about “racism” and, once the President softened his language, crowed that the Obama had thrown Gates “under the bus.”

It is important to try to understand that every issue has more than two sides. This one has race (white cop black man; white neighborhood, black homeowner), class (white/blue collar), egos unwilling to budge, exhaustion, connections to important friends, two men each at the top of their perches, and a crowd gathering outside. Is it fair to say that white people just don’t get it? That they don’t run the risks incurred for DWB (driving while black)? Police have often acted without equanimity against black people. Remember Abner Louima? Is it fair to say that some black people have a chip on their shoulders and are too easily offended? Both happen. Some collision happened here. Only these two men know the truth. Both of their stories, taken are wholes, could not have happened.

If anyone had time to waste a few years ago, there was a fairly forgettable Samuel L. Jackson movie called Amos and Andrew that has overtones to the Gates affair. In it, African American professional Andrew Sterling moved into an all-white New England town, whose neighbors, sure that he was breaking and entering called the police who, sure that no black man would summer there, overreacted and surrounded the house with guns, created a standoff. As Andrew attempts to protect himself from the police with a firearm, one officer, Amos, realizes that the police have made a terrible error and saves Andrew. While it is important that the police did not kill Andrew, we know that this happens. And it did not miss my attention that Andrew could not save himself.

The Gates situation had a better outcome, certainly. But what do we know now? Here are two men with large egos both unwilling to admit any wrongdoing, their positions now wedded to the national support they have received from separate quarters. And the corners they sit in fit their primitive brains – this is what people do when their feelings are terribly hurt. Above all, this incident may prove that good people, pushed by anger, hurt feelings, and the ghosts of a past tinged with race, can be jerks. A President, affected by the same feelings can forget for a moment that as the leader of the free world, he is supposed to keep his feelings in closer check – his super cool persona is, after all, essential to his power to persuade. No cooler heads prevailed anywhere here. Until President Obama took the high road and apologized for misspeaking.

Where do were go from here?
This unfortunate and uncomfortable incident can be used to help America heal some of its racial wounds. Since we are talking, we should be constructive in our approach. The next steps are several.
• Drink Beer and Shake Hands. As President Obama has offered, the Professor and the Officer, both of whom are now claiming credit for the idea of having a beer with the President, should actually engage the chill provided by cool brew. Sergeant Crowley will have to trust that President Obama, as a fair man, will facilitate a reasonable discussion between the two men, in spite of his friendship with Dr. Gates. The President has already said that he thinks that both men overreacted and that dealing with race in America is part of his “portfolio.” And we, too, should determine whether we have relationships that require healing.
• National Forum. These two men should go on Oprah or Dr. Phil to engage a discussion about how to heal racial wounds, especially when it is most challenging.
• Enact the End Racial Profiling Act of 2008. The NAACP is urging swift action on legislation that will end the insidious practice of racial profiling by a) creating a federal prohibition against it, b) funding retraining opportunities for law enforcement officers, and c) holding law enforcement officers who continue to use racial profiling accountable.
• Police Retraining. Clearly, if the trainer does not get it right, and he did not entirely, the handbook needs some updating. There will always be situations that training does not cover. But teaching officers to be flexible enough to use good judgment and tactics that deescalate rather than those that enflame tensions (or are perceived as enflaming them) will aid race relations from Harvard Yard to Hartford.
• Self-Assessments. All of us get stuck in our reptile brains from time to time. Travel if you can afford it for exposure to the rest of the world. If that is not possible, meet new people, eat new foods, do new things. Always be willing to ask yourself what your experiences have taught you and what you might now have seen because of the limits of your experiences to date? Have good friends who are willing to tell you the truth.

Life is a long journey and our mistakes make us human. The nation did not manage to talk about race in spite of President Clinton’s attempts to address it through institution of a presidential commission. And America is not good at apologies for some of its most grievous misdeeds. The Civil Liberties Act of 1988 provided redress for Japanese interment, though African slavery and harms to indigenous populations have not yet been redressed. Because it is less threatening than the Rev. Wright episode, which deserved more responsible discussion than it received, it just may be that the Incident of the Professor and the Officer may give America an opportunity to get back to conversations about how we are to live into the creed that all men are truly created equal.

That America has a black President, a black female media mogul, a black public intellectual (Gates) and will soon have its first Hispanic Supreme Court Justice, means that we have come a tremendously long way from the days of Jim Crow. But that all other things being (perhaps equal?), the bad tempers of two good men can still lead to arresting the black one on his own property means that we live in an America where race impedes us less but still defines us.

What is the Harm in Being Kind?

2009-05-30T15:03:00.000-07:00

On May 28th at 10:30 I was in the downtown Seattle Bank of America on Union Street. A homeless man who clearly banked there very politely asked for his balance. He was rudely told that he had no money. He looked confused and asked again. I was very aware that there were few people in the bank and that the clients (10) were likely to be able to be served individually as there were about 10 employees. There was one teller at the window.

A few employees, all seeming to be in their twenties and early 30's, surrounded him, smirking and poking fun at him. He asked for someone to write his balance down. It's negative!", he was told. The gentleman, who was always polite, became very agitated.

A faceless voice from the back yelled, "Get your ass out of here before I kick you out." This voice then appeared in the form of the bank manager, repeating the statement.

By this time, about nine employees had surrounded him, jeering and yelling at him. The man grabbed his things and left as the group of employees broke into raucous laughter.

I went to them immediately. "May I help you, ma'am?"; in a second, the jeering clerk became polite. I then asked why this group was laughing. Another man told me, "he has a balance of -$1000." My response was that it was inappropriate for bank staff to violate his rights to privacy simply because he has no home. Told that I did not understand how disruptive the homeless man was on a daily basis, I asked "What is the harm in treating him kindly, giving him his balance, a cup of coffee?" "But for the grace of God, any of us could be homeless in this economy", I continued. "And at the rate that banks are being taken over, all of you are just two paychecks from the street. So what does it hurt to be kind to this man who clearly has problems and who was only asking for help?"

One of the bank employees thanked me, stating that they needed to be "called out", on their behavior. The others, including the bank manager, walked away from me. While I certainly understand that downtown banks do have problems with homeless clients, cruelty is inexcusable at any time, always, ever. This is, however, a teachable moment. I would like for several things to happen:

1. If you are so moved, write letters to CEO and President of the Bank of America, Ken D. Lewis, asking that sensitivity training be made mandatory for bank staff and that this particular homeless man be given an apology. CEO and President, Kenneth D. Lewis, 100 Tyron Street, Charlotte, NC 28255; ken.d.lewis@bankofamerica.com

2. Those of you involved in local compassionate services can offer them to the branch near you so that Bank of America staff can better deal with their fears.

3.. Watch this video from ABC News in which the granddaughter of the B of A founder notes her concern that those running the bank have lost their values. Those lost values may have trickled down. abcnews.go.com/Business/story?id=7145404

4.Send this to your friends to further spark a letter writing campaign

This issue has since been positively resolved! The bank president and board chair's representative's called me several times to discuss what I had observed and promised to review the matter. While I will not know the outcome, I was pleased with this result.

The Dark Side of Memorial Day

2009-05-25T11:49:00.000-07:00

Today is Memorial Day. I, like many people, have the day off. At 3:00 p.m. we will have a moment of silence in honor of those who have served, those who are serving and, most importantly, those who sacrificed their lives for America, a country they loved.

In former years the American story that we shared was that America was a place where truth, valor, democracy, and fairness reigned at home and abroad. We recognized our humanity, but believed these truths to be self-evident: Americans were and are good people.

And this is basically true. Our history is certainly complicated, however.

BIG OLD LIE
Our remarkable Founding Fathers created documents that have stood up through centuries of change. But they were built on one lie - however much we may have been born as equals - an idea so odd as to up for only negligible debate at the Constitutional Convention - we were not deemed equal in America's guiding documents. The Three-Fifths Compromise is one such example. This compromise between Northern and Southern states was reached during the Philadelphia Convention of 1787 as a way for slaves to be counted for tax purposes so that the states would have adequate representation in Congress. Slaves could not votes. Those opposed to slavery wanted to count only free blacks while those in favor of slavery would most benefit from an actual count of all slaves and blacks. This count afforded the Southern states a significant advantage in the House of Representatives and the Electoral College. Counting slaves as three-fifths of their actual numbers reduced the power of the slave states while increasing the northern position relative the original proposals of each group. So this is a long story that shows that America was founded on a lie, one that still infects us and from which we have not yet healed. The institutionalization of this system, however, has helped us, however, to maintain the view of ourselves as healthy and whole. America the beautiful. And we are. Like a body in which a scab has healed and no scar remains, we are beautiful. Sometimes something roils internally. Every once in a while it emerges as a boil and we are confused about it presence. We shouldn't be. We laid the paved road. And we have the healing balms.

BIG NEW LIES
No matter what your political party, the expectations for presidents is that they should tell the truth, uphold the Constitution, behave honorably, and, in the most powerful office in the land, represent the best interests on the country at all times. Because the world changes - its physical and political maps, its leaders, and the technologies that serve it, the American president must also be a person capable of continual flexibility and adaptability or, if these skills are not their forte, willing to surround themselves with those who are. They must have an intellectual curiosity about the world around them and a willingness to admit what they do not know. Without a long recitation of what I consider to be the horrors of the presidency of George W. Bush, he was none of these things. And in ways never before seen in American presidencies, he was not honest with the American people.

TRAUMATIC MEMORY
What, you might ask, does the line between the lies told by the Founding Fathers (good guys) in the Three-Fifths Compromise and the lies told by George W. Bush (not good guy) have to do with Veteran's Day?

Everything. It impacts how some Americans experience the American dream. Especially if their father is a social justice minister who preaches fairness. And who is also a historian who draws lines through history as a habit.

The line may not be the same for everyone. But this is my line. From slavery through a slew of wars in which people of African descent were 1) not considered worthy of fighting, then 2) once the services were integrated were sent to the front lines where they were the first to die. The way that my father teaches about slavery in the US, it starts in 1300. It is deep within us. Soup takes time to season. People don't just start believing that other human beings might help their market economies flourish.

The inheritance of my father's military trauma was, as are most traumas, a subconscious process. I just figured this out within the past three months. And as is the case when we face our internal emotional cockroaches, I am now freed. Before I tell you what getting here has won me, let me tell you why I was there.

Rev. Dr. Samuel Berry McKinney, my father, is a veteran of WWII. While he will occasionally mention military events, his veteran status is not part of his self-identity. His occasional stories are sad and anger-inducing. Part of the segregated Army - Air Corps (Off we go, into the wild blue yonder!), my father recounts being on blacks-only military sports teams. Eating sub-par food with wooden utensils on wooden tables in the black mess on the notice through an open door that white soldiers were eating better food at with silver cutlery at linen-covered tables; his stomach turned, however, to notice that they were being served by German POW's. An officer who called him Black Sambo. My father's response to which landed him in jail. He glories in saying that he barely got out of the service with an honorable discharge.

His brother, Wade Hampton McKinney III, whose grandfather was inexplicably named for a Confederate General with a reputation for keeping blacks in their place, was a Tuskegee Airman. He sat proudly in the place saved for the veterans at the Obama Inauguration. Different brothers, these two men.

My inherited trauma continued with the paternal instruction that I was to stand for the national anthem but not to sing the song. I stood to honor blacks who had given their lives for the country but was not to sing because of the original Founders sins. I stood for the Pledge of Allegiance and covered my heart but was silent. This was a lot for a little girl to understand or explain but I had learned my history well and my teachers, who then learned it from me, had to accept my polite revolutionary stance. And I was obeying my father. This revolution, which I came to believe in, I finally came to more clearly understand, after it made sense for a lifetime of wars and had continued to - not actively but subtlely traumatize me - had actually not been my personal choice.

I came to despise the military. We oppressed other countries, engaged in who knows what undercover CIA actions and undercut our democratic ideals. I made a policy not to date soldiers. Or to give them hell if I did.

LIGHTENING UP
My historian father taught me the doctrine of fairness. And the importance of asking the uncomfortable question. How, I asked myself, finally, could a country protect itself without a military? Shouldn't we have an extraordinary well-trained group of selfless people ready to protect us at all times but attempt to do most of our work with other countries through peaceful diplomatic means? What strategies did non-interventionist countries use to interact with other countries? Does size matter?

I also had to look at those who continued to enter the military. Mainly poor, often of color, they required my support. Even if I happened to disagree with the policies that sent them to battle, I could honor their service. Should not those selfless people who enter battle on our behalf represent all races and classes rather than be primarily from the lower and working classes as is now the case? So in the last year I have started singing the Star Spangled Banner and saying the Pledge of Allegiance and thanking every service person I see.

And three months ago, I figured out why that is so significant. I no longer need to share my father's trauma. He lived it for reasons that made good sense for him. I understand why he thought it important to share his experience with me as a way of protecting me from an enemy he thought was in the very fiber of the land. Its still here. But I have new strategies available to me. My father is, in fact, a Civil Rights hero, who worked and works mightily against oppression and bad policies. But he is also haunted. Men of his age tend not to be terribly introspective. Women of my age are annoyingly so.

I have new strategies. And no haints. I no longer need to live through his pain.

My father gave much of his spirit to WWII.
His father gave some of his in WWI.
My uncle managed to find some joy in service. We see the same things and respond differently.

This is my lesson.

We can bury our wounds.

I can now acknowledge that veterans have been giving their all to our flawed and wonderful country for years. They fight for those of us who have strung together big old and big new lies that outline our own personal as well as our shared American traumas. They do this because the American story of democracy holds. Democracy is a lovely, ugly, beautiful, imperfect thing. Its messy. Its hard. And that is why it is worth fighting for.

It is May 25, 2009. And I am very proud to say that this is my first Memorial Day.

Who Cares? - The Challenge for Creating a Compassionate Economy

2009-05-25T11:17:00.000-07:00

By absolutely any measure, Dr. Riane Eisler is a phenomenal woman. A noted thinker, speaker and writer, Dr. Eisler is an attorney, social scientist, economist, historian, educator and internationally recognized peacemaker. Based on her work as a cultural historian and evolutionary theorist, Dr. Eisler is the only woman noted among twenty great thinkers including Hegel, Marx and Toynbee. Included in the award- winning book, Great Peacemakers, she is listed among such luminaries as Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King. Her peacemaking is what her work is about. She seeks to understand to connect the dots of social and neurosciences to discover how the world works so that inequities might be balanced.

On a recent visit to Seattle was the keynote speaker for two very different events. As opening speaker for the Northwest Women’s Convocation, a biannual meeting of over 1000 Catholic women, Dr. Eisler’s topic was What is Good for Women is Good for the World. The following evening, as guest of the Compassionate Action Network (http://www.compassionateactionnetwork.com%29and/ the Social Justice Ministry of Mount Zion Baptist Church (mountzion.net; see Ministries), she spoke to a more intimate gathering on the topic, Cultivating Societies of Caring and Compassion. In both settings she willingly shared lessons learned from a remarkable life.

Dr. Eisler seeks, through her work, to create what she refers to as a caring revolution. She proposes that the greatest problems of history – poverty, family violence, inequalities of all kinds (racism, sexism, and ageism), environmental degradation, war, and terrorism - are directly related to our human inability to honor, cherish and support the most basic human work, loving and caring for each other. While it may sound, at first, like an alien concept to some, it is a concept that is at once beautifully simple and exceptionally politically radical. “Our challenge”, says Dr. Eisler “is to develop a caring economics where human needs and capacities are nurtured, out human habitat is conserved and our great potential for caring and creativity is supported.”

In The Chalice and the Blade (1987), her influential seminal book on gender relationships, Dr. Eisler explored early male- and female-headed societies as well as those based on Goddess worship. She drew upon the archaeological research of such well-respected scientists and cultural thinkers as Maria Gimbutas and Ashley Montagu. Her main hypothesis was that much of history has been a battle between Dominator and Partnership societies. The book references the destructive dominating blade versus the life-giving chalice.

Dr. Eisler believes that the Dominator model has also skewed our economic models. Her most recent book, The Real Wealth of Nations, takes its title from The Wealth of Nations,(1776) written by Scottish economist Adam Smith, one of the great thinkers to whom her societal impact has been compared. Adam Smith is most known for two concepts. The most famous idea, the invisible hand, states that people act in their own self-interest. In The Wealth of Nations he wrote that, “I have never known much good done by those who affected to trade for the public good(page 456)." His second idea, meritocracy, is the notion that an elite group progresses in society based on ability and talent rather than on class privilege. For centuries, economists have ascribed to many of Smith’s theories. Eisler takes great exception to them, asking why we cannot rethink them, looking to what might really make our nations wealthy. Her view is that we must take care of each other and that we are all worthy. Compensation for caring, she states, must undergird a new economic structure.

Of her new book, The Real Wealth of Nations, Archbishop Desmond Tutu says (it): "gives us a template for the better world that we have been so urgently seeking. As practical as it is hopeful, this brilliant book shows how we can build economic systems that meet both our material and spiritual needs. It illuminates the way to a bold and exciting new future."

According to Dr. Eisler, the American economy is comprised of the following neglected sectors, all of which are in constant interaction with one another:

Household Economy – We think of home as the place where the heart is, but our economic models don’t. They view home as a unit of consumption rather than as place of “high-quality human capital,” specifically, compensated caring and caregiving.

Unpaid Community Economy – charitable and social justice groups like non-profit groups and non-governmental organizations (civil society), and barter structures are currencies that promote caring and caregiving.
Market Economy – this sector provides our traditional market analyses but discourages rather than promotes caring.
Illegal Economy – economic activities run by crime syndicates and gangs (sex trade, drug trade, some arms trade, and other illegal activities). These activities do not promote caring.
Government Economy – makes laws, policies, and rules impacting the market economy, public services, and contracts to private enterprises. Some entail caring components but government policies provide little support to the caring and caregiving activities of the household and unpaid community economies.
Natural Economy - Conventional economic models give little value to nature. Caring for the environment is viewed as a liability in conventional cost-benefit analyses. More recently caring has been a consideration in some economic theories.

Caring economics may not be a concept that makes immediate sense to some people. However, it makes perfect sense that Dr. Eisler sought to understand to make sense of a system that knit the world together in a way that differed considerably from her life’s experience. She is an Austrian-born Holocaust survivor, having, as a young girl lived through and her family lived through German Kristallnacht or the "night of the broken glass." On this night Nazis went through Jewish homes, businesses, and synagogues smashing windows, religious symbols and crystal to show their power. Of those who entered her home was a boy soldier who had worked for her father. Bravely, her mother chastised him. Eisler's father was taken but through her mother’s ingenuity, was returned to the family. The family traveled for Cuba on the last ship to successfully leave the country. The fate of the ship that followed theirs was chronicled in the film, Voyage of the Damned. Raised in the industrial slums of Havana, Eisler had the choice to become bitter, angry and despondent. She chose, instead, to allow the extraordinary pain she had endured to challenge her to find a better way to understand her experiences.

She came to understand that social systems are typically designed as structures of domination and submission, proposing instead a partnership model. She made clear that partnership this is not the same as cooperation. Nazis cooperated with one another and with reasonable governments before their Final Plan became clear. The Taliban is cooperating as they terrorize the Swat region in Pakistan American soldiers cooperated with their superiors to create the horrors of Abu Ghraib. Instead partnership economics/politics/education/social justice efforts focus on four primary ideas:
Childhood Relations - New research on brain behavior and learning show that young brains are primed not just for cognitive learning but also for learning violent and maladaptive behaviors that are part of the dominant system.
Gender Relations - Women and men were created equal by God and, should be treated as such by all social systems. "We socialize our children to be terrorized by the domination system. Men are in charge and women must do as they say."
Economic Relations - the poor do not need to be with us always. "What sense does it make", said Dr. Eisler, "to have a trickle down system of economics. Why should anyone have to live on the droppings of the rich?"
Stories, Beliefs and Spirituality - The stories of domination must be changed. According to Dr. Eisler, our need for self-help books and programs is primarily because so many of us believe the negative stories that come from our dysfunctional dominating families within the larger dominating society.

We are stories, we are spirit, we are equal and we all have the potential for partnership if we also have a willingness to push outside our pain and to see, as has Dr. Eisler, that any personal pain has the potential for greatness and compassion on the other side. A caring economic system restructures how we are already living can gives it value. Most recently, the United States Congress included her language on Caring Education in their legislation. The same should occur for her Economic plan (http://www.rianeeisler.com/).

So the next time someone is flippant enough to respond to you with the statement, “Who cares?,” think of who takes care of your elderly parents and your children. Think of who you care for and the value of this caring to society. Remember that teaching is undervalued. That there are environmental disasters somewhere on a monthly basis that take human lives – those of people who live near the devastated sites and those of first responders.. That home health aides are underpaid. Remember that gangs are simply dysfunctional families and that prostitutes typically were abused at home or made vulnerable on the internet. Then kindly share with your friend what you have learned from Dr. Riane Eisler. Creating an economy based on caring is the basis of a new revolution. Or just a reasonable idea. It simply entirely much too costly not to care.

Stuck in the Snapshot

2009-05-13T08:46:00.000-07:00

Last week, sitting in a beautiful lakeside home with a group of friends, one friend, Andy, called me aside. He wanted to tell me about a trip that he had taken home, to Tennessee. This trip was important because Andy had, in some ways, confronted his family demons. I won’t tell much of his story because it is his to tell. But this is what I will share. Andy comes from four generations of religious fundamentalists important to the development of America’s religious history.

As is the case with any form of fundamentalism, there were under his relative’s ecclesiastical robes some ugly secrets, so ugly that they, for a time, turned Andy away from God. So having spent the last year writing a book about his life’s challenges with fundamentalism in many forms, Andy returned last month to Tennessee to engage his family in a discussion. Using a form of query known as affirmative inquiry, Andy asked his family members to describe who they were now as religious fundamentalists. To his amazement, to a one, they all reported that their fundamentalist views had changed. Some had changed so significantly that the label was no longer appropriate.

There is a psychological phenomenon that I formulated as a young psychology student. Not surprisingly, I was living in New York at the time. Called "emotional cockroaches", it is those ugly parts of ourselves that scurry into the dark when finally hit by the light of day. This is what Andy found with his relatives. Having expected to find them living in the dark, needing a blast of Raid to rid them of their emotional infestation, time, changes in the social structure and their willingness to let social context impact their definition of God had made an enormous change in their lives.

“Andy”, I said, “you had these folks stuck in a snapshot.” He looked at me, a bit surprised at first, then said, “Of course. I just hadn't thought of it that way.” “What was their photo of you,?” I asked. “Where or how did they have you stuck?” Andy laughed. “I was the crazy black sheep who had left the fold, lost my religion, left town.” Andy had also done something quite interesting. In his radical quest to be different than his family, Andy had become a different kind of fundamentalist. Sort of a social justice hardliner.

To preserve strong senses of ourselves, and keep our personal cockroaches at bay, we must do reverse versions of Dorian Gray. He, of course, was the fictional character whom man Oscar Wilde described as physically lovely but spiritually festering, whose portrait showed his true ugly self. Our photos don’t. They stick us in time. So we must allow ourselves the use of emotional and emotive technologies. Metaphorically speaking, we must forgo our staid and stale snapshots, put aside our peeling Polaroids and, for the moment, move into the land of digital photography where we can delete those images that incorrectly reflect what is represented by those preserved in them. Life gives us, as Andy proved, the opportunity to correct our emotional photos, our family relationships, and our internal scripts. It gives us the chance to get unstuck.

Ain’t life grand?!

Truth's Sojourn

2009-04-29T08:07:00.000-07:00

Said Sojourner Truth in an 1851 speech to the Women's Rights Convention in Akron, Ohio, "If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up again!" A former slave turned abolitionist who ferried hundreds of slaves north along the Underground Railroad, Truth was also a preacher, teacher and women's rights activist.

Yesterday, on April 28, 2009, Sojourner Truth and Michelle Obama made bookend history. Michelle Obama became the first First Lady to unveil the first statue of a black woman at the Capitol Building. There is a certain beauty in the knowledge that Mrs. Obama, a powerful woman descended from slaves, was able to shepherd the last stages of this project, part of a larger sculptural celebration of women designated for the Capitol. The unveiled Sojourner Truth now stands free, a model to all people of the value of working for what you believe in, of standing up for Truth, even if the rewards recognized in your lifetime are relatively few. Sojourner was a storyteller, her people, my people, an oral tradition. Now, Sojourner Truth is legend. Here is her tale:

My name was Baumfree
But I was not born free.
My brothers and sisters, all thirteen, were sold out of my life,
Perverting my experience of family.
While still enslaved, I was forced to marry Thomas,
Altering the sanctity of marriage.
We had five children, who were slaves or bonded for many years.
Slave laws were passed that made little sense.
New York State passed the Gradual Emancipation Act of 1817 then
Did not enforce it, even gradually, for more than ten years.
When my release date approached, I learned that Master Dumont had made plans to keep me enslaved.
He illegally sold my son Peter to a plantation in Alabama
Distorting the protections afforded me by law.
My soul was tired.
So I took my case to court.
And I won Peter’s return to me
Restoring my belief that unjust laws could be fought,
And unjust behaviors might be punished.
Because ain’t I a woman created by God?
Ain’t I got rights just like the white man thinks he owns me?
I saw the problems of other slaves around me.
I saw the problems of women too.
So I told Jesus it would be all right
If he changed my name.
To Sojourner Truth.
A traveling preacher,
One who speaks the for people who have lost their strength.
For those who like me, have lived lives of
Perverted family experiences
Altered marriages
Distorted protections under the law
Disrespected womanhood.
No, on this earth I was not born free.
But I became free.
With tired feet
With bloodied hands
With a praying heart
With God’s grace
Freedom is my legacy.

(Written by L. McKinney for a celebration of women in the minstry, March 2009)

Everyone Has A Story

2009-04-24T08:03:00.000-07:00

As a child I was taught to answer the phone rather formally, to convey the residence and person contacted and greet the caller - "The McKinney residence, Lora-Ellen speaking. Hello."

When trained to call others I was taught to say, Good day/afternoon/evening. How are you today? This is Lora-Ellen McKinney calling to speak to Dr. Jones about the pain in my left toe. Is he available?" This polite query, to this day, even when broken down and spoken slowly, is often met by "What's your name?" "Why are you calling?" "Who do you want to speak to?" Evidence that the person on the other end of the phone is not listening. Were this to have happened once or twice I would have chalked it up bad days on the part of the listeners. But it is an increasingly common experience, not just on the phone but in face to face conversation.

We no longer listen. We don't know how anymore. Our ears are filled with phone and Ipod accoutrements. We have no tolerance for quiet. What passes for conversation on cable television, even among educated pundits, is yelling over one another. Rather than listening to each other, we simply hold onto the thoughts that we want to insert into an open forum and then find space for it.

If, then, we do not listen to each others words, adding the more subtle signals added by tone and vocal quality, by bodily posture and eye contact may be more difficult. Many of us have, as a result of societal, technological and media overload, disconnected from our natural compasses for compassionate listening.

Today, my story on compassionate listening, contributed to NPR's This I Believe, is available on their website. To read Everyone Has A Story, please enter McKinney at LAST NAME and story at KEYWORD then look for Lora-Ellen. Then please let me know your thoughts. Compassionately.

Subsexting

2009-04-23T20:11:00.000-07:00

Technology has, of late, brought the country’s teens and their parents into a frightening new world. It has been particularly frightening of late because sub-teens and teens have been engaged in a charming act called “sexting” – sending sexual text messages to one another. These messages might include cute to obscene language and innocent to lewd photographs. Because they have always lives in a digital age, thoroughly modern teens don’t think through the long-term consequences of this behavior – public humiliation, college and job application denials, arrests for possessing and mailing child pornography and, related to this, having to register themselves as sex offenders. Forever.

In a cautionary tale of sexting, in May of 2008, Jesse Logan of Ohio, a beautiful 18 year-old girl, sent a nude photo of herself to her boyfriend’s cell phone. He later sent the photo to hundreds of students in the tri-state area, an act that devastated Jesse. Following her experience she publically discussed why sexting was unwise on several TV news shows. Unable to withstand the humiliation heaped on her by peers, she hanged herself in her bedroom closet with the blurred nude cell phone photo nearby.

The laws being applied to sexting were certainly not meant for Jesse or though he was mean-spirited, for her boyfriend. They were meant to protect minors for sexual predators. Technology appears to have outstripped policy.

What we now know from relatively recent neurologic data about the teen brains is that they are a work in progress. Similarly to the extraordinarily rich period of growth and development that occurs between birth and age five, teenage brains are dynamic environments. While all data are not in, this appears to be a result of a second surge of gray matter (the thinking part of our brains), neurologic pruning processes (determining what we have not used in a ‘use it or lose it’ strategy), the new presence of sexual hormones, and, relative to young adulthood, poorly defined executive decision-making.

So just at the time when teens want to have sex, they are least equipped to make good decisions about their bodies. Because society is less rigidly structured than previously and because many parents are concerned about being thought of as disciplinarians, teens often don’t have clear sets of rules. Top this with a sexualized media that makes girls feel inadequate if they are not thin, pouty-lipped and attractive to a boy by 12 OR that makes challenges boys to celebrate macho through getting sexual points for running sex trains on girls and there’s a pretty mess. Or let’s imagine we have the Montague’s of Poughkeepsie and the Capulet’s vacationing in Martha’s Vineyard. Put I-phones into their hands. Let 14 year-old her scoot down onto soft pink blanket with her teddy bear, and a 15 year-old he onto his baseball-covered comforter to start texting each other. It’s getting hot n here. So take off all your clothes. Hot, so hot n here. MMMM! Send me a picture, baby. Enough of that. We now have interstate transmission of child pornography. Shocked parents. Humiliated 14 and 15 year olds whose stories are on the national news and whose parents hie them off to therapy and keep sharp objects away from them.

Teen brains and nether regions are a bad mix waiting to happen. Teenagers are always going to do stupid things. It’s their job. It’s how they learn, how we learned at their ages. Each generation has its own version of what’s stupid given the technologies, opportunities, and numbers of attentive eyes trained on them. If the truth is told, most adults still get stupid about sex occasionally.

The answer to the question that has not much been addressed in all of this, though, is about the attentive parental eyes. A lot of parenting, as it happens, is common sense, but as my grandmother used to say, “Common sense ain’t common to everybody.” Research is now telling us what generations of grandmothers could have told us for free:
· Children and teens need affection, safety and structure more than they need us to buy their love. Adults tend not to like to be bought but children often accept anything from a parent, even if it has negative consequences. What children and teens want is our time, our positive attention, and a home life that is safe and provides fair rules and understandable structure. Activities are nice but they can never take the place of actual parenting.
· Talk to your children and teens. From the moment they are born, have conversations with them. Don’t preach. Let them know that, no matter what their concerns, issues, or infractions, they can bring them to you. While you may be angry about infractions, you will always love them and will work towards resolution with them.
· We are parents to our children, not their friends. Set boundaries and don’t let your children run you. Remember who had the labor pains, who pays the bills, and works every day. If its not you, get thee to a family therapist. Right now and in a hurry.
· Monkey see, monkey do. You must live the life you want your children to live. If you swear, smoke, drink, and sleep around, they will too. There is no “do what I say, not what I do, anymore.” Those days went out with people like Ozzie and Harriett – they won’t even find them on Google.
· Family dinner is one of the most important hours of the day. Use it to create a ritual, while sharing special or challenging moments from the days of each family member. What we now know is that young people who eat family dinner are less likely to get poor grades, become young parents, or drink or take drugs.

Here is the truth: If we restructure our families, ruffle our kids' hair especially when they hate it, and eat dinner together without the benefit of TV, our children may not have time to get naked over the phone or in person.

And here’s another news flash: Cell phones aren’t entirely necessary. We have gotten very used to having cell phones and have convinced our teens that they must have them. The truth is that they are often important for safety. But and all of the splash and sizzle on them definitely isn't - texting, cameras, games, and multiple expensive applications are not absolutely necessary. Don't buy them if you have questions about your children's maturity. Turn them off until you have developed a relationship with your children that has these words in their heads: In this house we speak the truth. In this house good grades are your job. In this house we value our bodies. They'll slip up from time to time - its the challenge of their developing brains. But they will remember the house rules as they grumble. They will appreciate the safety provided in your home. And they will love you for it later.

Keep your kids out of jail. Keep them off of the sex offender list (unless they otherwise should be). And get them into college. Where, perhaps, as their brains prepare to exit the danger zone, they can study in a manner that gives them global context rather than potentially life-derailing sub-sext.

Finding Our African Hearts

2009-04-22T08:42:00.000-07:00

Last night, unable to sleep and too tired to read I surfed through my television’s On Demand selections to find, to my delight, that HBO has made a series of The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. A serial series of ten novels written by British author Alexander McCall Smith, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency is located in Gabarone, Botswana. Founded by a Motswana woman, Mma Precious Ramotswe with funds from cattle left to her following her father’s death, the stories take us through the adventures of the each character, in the process teaching us as much about their lives, peculiarities and triumphs as it does about the factors surrounding the mysteries that Precious must solve.

Last night’s installment was called The Boy with the African Heart and featured an American woman who had, after ten years of sadness, her husband’s death and retirement from her job, returned to Botswana to investigate the disappearance and likely death of her only son, Michael. A Stanford graduate with a bent for social justice and commitment to the creation of a better world, Michael had moved to Botswana to help build an environmental sustainable garden and community outside the Kalahari Desert. He wrote home glowing letters about his successes, the garden community’s absolute beauty, his friendships, and unexpected his inner peace. This he called his African heart. It was a concept that his mother intrinsically believed herself to understand. An African American young man had moved to Africa and felt at home.

Trying to investigate a ten year old disappearance is a challenge. Precious Ramotswe began by visiting the now decimated garden community with Michael’s mother. Abandoned for years, it appeared to the naked eye that an investigation would not necessarily find much. So close to the desert, were Michael to have died, a body, sadly, would long ago have been a treat for desert animals.

As I watched Precious work, it soon became clear exactly what an African heart entailed. As a detective, Precious listened closely to the echoes of the past in her attempts help the American mother heal. Healing, not solving the disappearance, was her first objective. Precious used all five of her senses as tools in her work. She looked, smelled and stopped to feel what it was like to be in the garden. When she listened it was to what might be heard on the wind. She began to poke around through the detritus of the abandoned garden community and found a few atypical clues to Michael’s disappearance. She asked his mother if she was willing to forgive potential perpetrators of the crime – where to be any - no matter who they might turn out to be. Michael’s mother looked at Precious as if she were crazy. “Of course not”, she said. “I’m an American!”

Precious explained to her that Africans work diligently to extend their hearts to those who have done wrong and to forgive them. This, Precious said, is the “African heart.” As it happened Michael had died accidentally but his death had been covered up by a woman he had married unbeknownst to all but one person in the garden community. Michael’s wife was ashamed to have covered up the death but was pregnant at the time and had been blackmailed by a man jealous of Michael’s successes and in love with her. In meeting her daughter-in-law and grandson, named for her son, Michael’s mother uncovered the capacities for love and forgiveness in her African heart.

While in the American system of jurisprudence it is illegal not to report potential crimes, it is interesting to think about the possibility of an alternate system of justice, one that operates in on the extension of forgiveness. And certainly, without breaking the law, there is no reason not to do it. In our families, in our workplaces, in all of our social relationships. American society is filled with contention. The courts are clogged with small claims cases made by mean-spirited people. Discovering our African hearts might just change how we together, love each other and forgive. Each other and ourselves.

Happy New World

2009-04-21T16:47:00.000-07:00

Its Inauguration Day 2009!

Happy New World!

That is my new greeting for every day of this year.

For every day that I see you and for each day that I don't, please know that I wish you love, peace, and a heart fortified for continued, exemplary and meaning-filled service. I greet you:

In service.

In peace.

For ourselves.

For our families.

For our communities.

For our country.

For our world.

For whatever you hold most dear.

I ask you to:

Dance in your spirit and

Set your soul free.

This is my pledge to myself for every day. Though I am already a too-busy volunteer, though I have a knock-me-down serious happiness-hangover today, this experience is less about the election or the inauguration than what we do, joyfully, each and every tomorrow. Especially when our tasks are hard to do. So please join me in spirit dances and meaning-filled service in this new year, on this new day, for each and every tomorrow of this remarkable, stupendous, heart-warmingly encouraging new world!

Obama's Historical Dance Partners

2009-04-21T16:33:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday, January 20, 2009, Barack Hussein Obama, will be inaugurated as the 44th President of the United States of America. Though the media have continually called him the first African American president, this categorization does him a disservice. Certainly, as the son of a black Kenyan father and a white Kansan mother, he is more legitimately African-American than most who tout the label. But even though his election has softened the edges of racial division in this country, they have not eradicated it. What is most important about our next President is not his race. Barack Obama is best defined by his exceptional intelligence, morality, demonstrated integrity, family commitment, compassionate heart, non-partisan nature, focus on what is fair over what is expedient, an understanding that democracy begins in community and his faith in God.

Related to his religious faith, which is steeped in the traditions of those who came to this country as slaves, it is interesting to consider what might be learned about the conduct of an Obama presidency from the ancestors: Gambian born ex-slave Phyllis Wheatley (1753-1784), the first African American published poet, certainly understood the importance of lyric self-expression. Her 1773 book, Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral, brilliantly forecasts for Obama, a reader of poetry, and himself a lyric writer, how he must lead. A slave turned abolitionist and women’s rights activist, the self-named Sojourner Truth (1797-1883) was heart-bound on providing freedom for an enslaved people. An illiterate woman, she knew that free hearts were inspired through stories powerfully told. As someone who shared many areas of political interest with Obama, her life reminds him that freedom and hope are deeply felt and universal needs which threads President Obama must work diligently to keep bound.

President Obama has been compared to Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) as both men are from Illinois, launched their presidential campaigns on the statehouse steps , are considered highly skilled statesmen, and have surrounded themselves with cabinet members of varied and differing perspectives. Lincoln’s example may also encourage Obama in another way. He had an interesting relationship with Frederick Douglass (1818-1895) in the period when Lincoln was pro-slavery. A firm believer in the equality of all people, Frederick Douglass united blacks, women, Native Americans and recent immigrants. He often said, “I would unite with anybody to do right and with nobody to do wrong.” From Lincoln and Douglass, Obama can learn that tolerance is necessary but not always easy in the process of friendship and public governance.

As the first African American to represent Harlem in Congress, Adam Clayton Powell Jr. (1908-1972) became Chairman of the Education and Labor Committee. A handsome, charismatic and powerful figure, his later career was plagued by controversies, some of his own making. Powell’s example reminds President Obama of the importance of bipartisan work and the dangers of hubris. The Luo tribe is part of the genetic admixture that includes modern East African ethnic groups and members of Buganda Kingdom, the Toro Kingdom, and the Nubians of modern Sudan. Nyang’oma-Kogelo Village, in Kenya’s Siaya district, was home to Barack Hussein Obama Sr. (1936-1982) whose residents claim the new American President as one of their own. Schools and roads are named for him. As for his genetic Nubian heritage, the Broadway version of the opera Aida contains a heart-wrenching aria, The Gods Love Nubia, that declared that Nubian souls and accomplishments would not die when the Egyptians killed their people through war. Today, though not an independent country, Nubia lives again. These varied Luo ancestral voices remind President Obama of the importance of faith and resilience.

Barack Obama’s oratory has been compared to that of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (1939-1968); he has been forwarded as the embodiment of Dr. King’s dream for America. Dr. King’s life and work are gifts to the new president of the importance of doing the hard work of peace. On the inaugural day after Dr. King’s birthday, it is important to remember that it is likely that King died not just because he was working for social justice for Memphis garbage workers but because he was strongly speaking against unjust nature of the Vietnam war. These ancestral lessons will undoubtedly give succor to President Obama in upcoming days.

One ancestor may, however, be particularly thrilled at Obama’s arrival. There were two Senators and 19 Representatives who served following Emancipation and the Civil War, viewing in their elections from former slave-owning states the promise of America. That promise was soon breached by the rise of Jim Crow laws which toppled any hopes raised for a glorious Reconstruction. On March 3, 1901, the last proud black Congressmen, Republican George H. White of North Carolina, faced his fellow Congressmen prophesying of eventual justice for his people: This, Mr. Chairman, is perhaps the negroes’ temporary farewell to the American Congress but let me say Phoenix-like he will rise up some day and come again. These parting words are on behalf of an outraged, heart-broken, bruised and bleeding, but God-fearing people. (Congressional Record, House, 56th Cong., 2nd session (29 January 1901): 1638.)

While President Obama’s hopeful campaign words resounded anew to of our hungry ears, they were grounded in the histories of men and women who did not allow their circumstances to blunt their spirits, who believed that their lives had purpose, that they could not disappoint their ancestors and that God had not brought them within sight of victory to abandon them. As David Remick recently noted in the New Yorker (January 12, 2009), “history has proved that the seemingly impossible can be achieved: the Irish have all but resolved a conflict that began in the days of Oliver Cromwell, and on January 20th an African American President cross(ed) the color line and mov(ed) into the White House – a house that slaves helped build.” Indeed the phoenix has risen again. And Congressman George H. White – a black man – in sacred robe and shoes - must be dancing all over God’s Heaven.

Tavis Smiley Takes Accountability on the Road

2009-04-21T16:10:00.000-07:00

There is nothing better than seeing that those in the public eye are capable of self-correction. Arguably, that is what Tavis Smiley is doing with the tour for his latest book, Accountable: Making America As Good as its Promise. Though he would vehemently disagree, I would argue that this book tour partly allows Smiley to re-present himself to America, and in particular – black America – after tearing his pants with them so badly over the past few years.

Smiley states that his role as an interviewer is protective; he holds those to whom he speaks accountable for their actions. As seen from its cover, this book’s challenges President Obama to enact his campaign promises. Elected officials, community and faith leaders and citizens are provided checklists for supporting the president’s goals; they can also use their unique group qualifiers to successfully address the “divide between the promise of and the possibility in America for everyday people.”

Smiley is certainly an impressive man. Best known for socio-political commentary and conversations with leaders, Tavis Smiley has, in a relatively short amount of time, broken considerable ground as a broadcaster, author, and philanthropist. He has authored eleven books; The Covenant with Black America became the first non-fiction book by a black publisher to reach #1 on the New York Times bestsellers list. Smiley was the first American to simultaneously host shows on public radio and public television. Additionally, he holds the distinction of being the youngest African American to have a professional school and center named after him on a university campus; The Tavis Smiley School of Communications and The Tavis Smiley Center for Professional Media Studies are located at Texas Southern University.

On March 11, 2009 Tavis Smiley spoke at the main branch of the Seattle Public Library. When asked by a friend to attend, I unenthusiastic about the event. While proud of Smiley’s accomplishments, I had never been an aficionado. I do not routinely watch or listen to him in any of his communication formats. My reticence towards him stemmed from residual annoyance resulting from the highly publicized kerfuffle that occurred when Senator Barack Obama did not attend the annual 2007 State of the Black Union forum held in Virginia. On the Tom Joyner Morning Show, America’s most listened to black radio show, Smiley announced that he had invited all three presidential candidates, that Clinton had accepted and that he planned to speak negatively about McCain and Obama, insisting that they address the black and social justice issues outlined in The Covenant with Black America. Obama’s absence from the meeting got the most discussion from Smiley on his and other shows. There was an excellent reason why Obama could not attend the forum – he was announcing his run for the presidency on the same day. Though Michelle Obama made herself available to speak in his stead, her request was publically denied. After Iowa when blacks realized that Obama could win, sentiment turned, in some measure, against Smiley. It is hypothesized that he chose to leave the Tom Joyner Morning Show because of the negative publicity that his position on Obama had caused.

I firmly believe that each person has the right to support the political candidates they choose. It certainly benefits journalists to maintain political neutrality. I was stymied, however, by Smiley’s hubris. Presidential candidates have schedules that keep them away from their families. It is not surprising that they may be unable to attend even important events, especially if they conflict with campaign filing days.

The manner in which Smiley addressed this issue in his library talk was the most disingenuous component of what was otherwise a fairly good talk on community accountability. Smiley did not mention the well-noted aforementioned events, all of which have considerable taped and televised evidence of his statements. Instead he mentioned that he and Obama have a long-standing friendship, that they call each other “brother”, and that Obama heeds Smiley’s caution “not to sell out.”

Primarily, though, Smiley spoke thoughtfully about America’s post-election status. Though the audience was racially and culturally mixed, he joked that the town meeting was more like Bible study, using church references and seeking the occasional “Amen.” Smiley talked about his prayer that Obama be a “great, not good President”, singing the song. “Lord, I’m running, trying to make a hundred (99 ½ just won’t do).” He acknowledged that greatness often results from a combination of social and political adversities and relationships that push a president beyond what they believe to be their strengths (Lincoln had Frederick Douglass; Obama has… Accountable?). He encouraged everyone to their potential for leadership. “You can’t lead folks if you don’t love folks”, he told the audience. “And you can’t save folks if you don’t serve folks.” We laughed when he noted, “If you think you’re leading and turn around to find no one behind you, you’re just out for a walk!” In multicultural Seattle, he made the important reminder that Obama’s election does not make us post-racial, but less racist “as it is easier….to vote for a black man than to deal with the racial divide.”

But if Smiley’s personal redemption and accountability are – perhaps - what this tour are partly about, he earned his fare in the last 5 minutes of the Q and A session. A white man nervously approached the mike, asking a question that was a bit challenging to understand. Its purpose, however, was clear. He was there with a black boy, Trey, whose father was jailed and wanted Smiley’s recommendations for services. Smiley acknowledged that the Seattle audience might contain professionals adept at answering what specific services were available and asked them to meet the man and his charge following the meeting. Smiley spoke about the variety of ways that parents, social systems and the larger society had failed our children. Then he spoke directly to Trey, who had begun to get into trouble. “Don’t do to anyone what you don’t want done to you. Don’t hurt anyone if you don’t want anyone you love hurt. Don’t let the pain in your heart turn you into someone who can’t grow into the man you are meant to be.” And then, modeling the man that he can be, Smiley invited Trey to receive Smiley’s personal copy of Accountable: Making America as Good as its Promise, which he autographed for him. They shook hands. Hopefully making man and boy as good as their promise and their promises.

Published in Urban Life Northwest

Shake a Hand, Make a Friend

2009-04-21T16:07:00.000-07:00

Among the many accomplishments for which he was lauded on his recent trip to Europe was this, President Obama paid attention to the “little people”. One particular moment was noted by the world press as the American President entered Ten Downing Street with British Prime Minister Gordon Brown. Approaching Brown’s residence, Obama held out his hand to the bobby standing guard at the door. This handshake, unheard of for the stoic guards who are to stand stock still and unsmiling, though all-seeing, in front of the PM’s and royal residences and political buildings, so surprised and pleased the guard that he held out a friendly had to his Prime Minister. It was ignored. Gordon Brown was not being unkind. In his defense, handshakes between the classes, between the gentry and those who serve them, are simply not done in Britain.

Brown may have been as surprised by the gesture made towards him as was the guard by President Obama’s handshake. It is thought by many political and social scientists that the breakdown in social structures begins with the erosion of engrained rules of conduct. There are many ways in which this assessment is correct, of course. In America, something as simple as eating family dinner significantly guards against teenage drug abuse and early parenthood, and enhances interfamilial communication and student grades.

President Obama saw the guard because, certainly, he is a friendly man of broad appeal who has made it a point to be a change agent. But he is also from a much younger country with somewhat different social rules. Prime Minister Brown lives in the context of an older nation and a more ingrained status quo that, even though he has invoked change as a political mandate, has not extended it to upstairs-downstairs relationships.

Here, then, is what some of the press missed in their description of the handshaking event. It is also what Mr. Obama knows: there are no little people. Whether one’s measure of a person is religious or constitutional, we are all created or held to be equal. While England, too, is a democracy, its vestiges of class division remain demonstrably intact – a monarchy with a queen who may only be touched at her initiation, servants whose longevity in service is ensured by their invisibility, an educational system which is structured to place its students in the place they are likely to socially maintain for life, and accents that, by belying neighborhood and heritage, also often serve to maintain a class-based status quo.

And here of course, is our dirty little secret. Behaviorally, we are not yet as different from the country of our birth as we often like to think. The United States of America emerged from its angers with King George III, designed as a democratic republic where people could worship God as they chose. The Founding Fathers were men of stature and, though they were remarkably prescient in their capacity to write relatively timeless national documents, these, too, were class-based. Amendments to the Constitution have often corrected assumptions inbred in the Founders; among these the Three-Fifths Compromise (slaves were counted as 3/5 of a person). This was a compromise between the North who wanted to count only free persons and the slaveholding states that wished to use slave numbers to increase their Congressional power) and women as the property of men. Currently, our class distinctions are less hard-wired than those across the pond. But there are broad similarities. The poorer one is, the fewer one’s life options. Also, sadly, if we believe someone to poor, we can be quite unkind, although, as the current recession has proved, even our wealthiest citizens can become paupers overnight.

So, during a moment when he was being viewed by the world, President Obama might have been demonstrating simple human decency. Or he may have been a decent human being taking advantage of a unique situation to illustrate simple good manners. Obviously, there could not have been foreknowledge that this implicit or explicit lesson would have its particular international impact. That the bobby’s code of behavior would momentarily be put aside to allow him to shake Obama’s hand or to attempt against hundreds of years of protocol to reach for the hand of his own prime minister shocked many. Handshakes equalize people.

President Obama believes people to be equal and acts on it. President Obama, for example, lets his wife enter rooms before or alongside him as all gentlemen should, though as President, he now is expected to enter first. Prime Minister Brown also believes people to be equal but, as is the case with us all, he does not see this particular plank in his eye. That particular plank is part of being British.

And that is the take-away from this hand-shaking incident. Planks are cultural. They are familial. They are gender-based. They are, occasionally, self-imposed. However they occur, we must be assured that in this new New World, there are no little people. Just big planks. Just human blinders and human blindness. Just small actors and small actions. It must be our personal tasks as good people with egalitarian hearts to engage in deep self-reflection, to determine what might be hindering our capacities to see the humanity right outside our own front doors. And having seen it, to shake a hand, make a friend.

Published in Urban Life Northwest Magazine (http://www.urbanlifenw.com/ )

What Democracy Requires

2009-04-21T16:04:00.000-07:00

Frank Capra directed a 1941 film about Mr. Willoughby, a man who believed that his life had been ruined by the Great Depression. Tricked by an unscrupulous newswoman into impersonating John Doe, a fictional character who threatened suicide to protest society’s ills, Willoughby, ashamed of this sham and horrified to lose another job himself threatens to jump from the Empire State Building. Upon reading Willoughby’s plight people around the country responded in remarkable ways, forging an unanticipated grassroots political movement. Strengthening their formerly torn bonds, neighbors started helping one another. This film illustrates democracy’s strengths and its fragility.

America was founded as an experiment in democracy: our Founding Fathers were concerned that their new country provide for its people pathways to have a persuasive voice in governance. Having been ruled by England’s system of hereditary peerage, this new land allowed them to craft a government with the potential to be equitable. They defined democracy as a system in which formal political power is equally shared by all of society’s members. This experiment has been imperfect, taking overlong to understand the definition of “all”, failing to embody Lincoln’s admonition that “…no man is good enough to govern another man without that other’s consent”. Despite our misconceptions of fairness, democracy’s laudable goals give voice to our personal, national, international and systemic concerns. These possibilities for voice embolden our citizenry and draw people to American shores.

While American democracy uniquely represents a founding form of government, the institution itself is credited to Athens circa 508 B.C., though evidence exists of 5th century tribal democracies. Quite possibly these early democracies experienced difficulties similar to ours: unfairness in democracy’s execution and, increasingly, complacency. Even when our systems are broken, their vast size and intricacy hides inefficiencies for generations. Because democracy takes considerable work, we often don’t speak up as we should. With wars in two destabilized countries, terrorist threats, corporate greed and the worst economic situation since 1931, we can no longer let democracy’s engine erect structures on our silence. Barack Obama’s special genius has been to move us from complacency to vigorous voice. He has consistently intoned that he can only govern with our help, providing public forums and electronic methods to enroll voters, campaign, and forward our ideas to his transition team. As he is the right person for this historical time, we are becoming a renewed people, hopefully encouraged that our democratic participation is truly meaningful.

Obama’s election represents America’s acknowledgement that real democracy is finally possible for many previously disenfranchised groups – people of African descent, women, immigrant citizens, political and social outsiders and people whose ideas challenge the status quo. Obama’s presidency has likewise excited global imaginations who can now fill the gap between their dreams and their potential.

To maintain this new vision of democracy, what is required of us? Democracy is an opportunity to reevaluate who we are and to determine how best to use our gifts and talents in service to our nation. Democracy further requires that we become a nation of good-hearted John Does, helping one another, healing through the process, and understanding that sustained progress only occurs when we care more about outcomes than taking credit for our contributions.

Written for Urban Life Northwest Magazine