reverse chronological order

Tonight, I saw the movie "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" which is about a guy whose life goes in reverse. The woman with whom he fell in love with at a young age and him reconnect somewhere in the middle of their lives, and they share an incredibly enduring love. As she ages typically, he goes on to die in a baby's body. Although he fathered a child with her, he could not be a father to his daughter because of his curious case. And, to put the cherry on top, there was ballet dancing in the movie:) I really enjoyed it, but I'm a sucker for love stories and Brad Pitt. One day, I'll have to write about my own love story with Chris, because it has been something so tremendous that most people would have to read about it in a book to believe it is even possible.

Making a Difference

Today, I made a difference. Yesterday, one of my coworkers asked me to explain my reasoning behind voting for Barack Obama, so I did. I told him that I am pro-choice, want to end the war in Iraq, don't believe in drilling in Alaska for oil, and want some tax relief. Today, he came to me and told me that I had helped him make a decision about who to vote for. I couldn't believe that my brief conversation with him was enough to convince him to vote for Obama. I was, and am still, THRILLED that I was able to make a difference!

Obamarama

Chris and I will be hosting an Obamarama party on Tuesday, November 4th to celebrate history in the making! I'm thrilled to be living through this definitive point in US history! I thought I had missed all of the good stuff from the 50s and 60s, but it turns out that there are still exciting times on the horizon. Phew! What a relief! Barack the VOTE!!!!!

Jackson

Jackson is my six year old cat whom I love and adore. With Jackson, it was love at first sight. I adopted him from the Humane Society of Tucson when I was a twenty year old college student living in a duplex on Halcyon with Amarett. He is the most UNIQUE cat ever! First of all, he has a lot of characteristics that dogs have. He licks too much, which drives me nuts! He growls when people come to the door. He follows me around everywhere! Then, he does a lot of weird things too. For example, he chatters at the sight of birds, when I sneeze or cough, and when Zeus walks past him. If you scratch his behind, he'll start licking like crazy! (Chris likes to make him do that, and I hate it.) Oh yeah, and his tail shakes constantly! It's weird. Jackson love to head butt anything and everything. And, when he head butts your face it's pretty painful. He enjoys sleeping on my head, or as close to it as he possibly can. He has a funny sounding purr. I think he has allergies too. His back feet hit each other when he walks. He loves to be smothered by me. He lies right where I'm trying to walk. Jackson loves to eat! If I am ever in the laundry room, he's eating. When I get a bag from the pantry, he runs to follow me into the laundry room, because he knows that I'm going to clean the shitter (i.e., litter box). He loves to sunbathe in our bedroom, or in front of the backdoor, when the sunlight hits the carpet. Sometimes he sneezes, and he has the most high-pitch, cut meow that I've ever head! One of the things I love most about Jackson, is that Zeus is afraid of him, and that cracks me up. So, yeah that's my googie boy, Jackson.

Top Ten List

The top ten reasons Barack Obama is going to be the next President of the U.S.:
1. He has more hits than the other guy when you Google him
2. He is the biggest celebrity in the world
3. He graduated from Harvard
4. He is ahead in the polls
5. He has more money to spend
6. He is taller than the other guy
7. He is more attractive than the other guy
8. His VP isn't a complete dimwit
9. He is younger than the other guy
10. Because I want him to be

Friday and Saturday

Last Friday was super long for me. The night before, I only got a few hours of sleep because my mind was racing. At school on Friday, I worked the football game. They pay teachers $10/hour to sell tickets and other things of that nature. After the game, we had hawkcoming, which was our variation of a homecoming. So, I was at school until about 12:15 a.m. Saturday morning I tried to sleep in, but my body wouldn't let me. I went into school at 11, and I worked there until 3. Then, I was craving Arby's, so I got mozzarella sticks and a cheddar beef sandwich. That really hit the spot! I took a well-deserved nap, and before I knew it, it was time to get ready for the AWC football game. I ended up being about 10 minutes late meeting Rachel, Jason, Monica, Sean, and Cole. We ate carne asada and pollo asada together in the Matador Tent. After we took our seats in the bleachers, we started noticing a slew of Gila Vista parents and kids. Eventually, we realized that these people were there to support their daughters who were cheerleading with AWC that night. So, I saw one of my most hated students. But, oddly enough, he was still happy to see me, which is good I guess. The game lasted until 10ish, and then I went home and watched Saturday Night Live. There were some awesome political skits on it!!! Afterwards, I watched Dr. 90210. Then, the bed called my name.

Annoying right brainers

I'm a left brainer and proud of it! It drives me nuts how right brainers are so unorganized and fly-by-the-moment. What makes me even more crazy is working with people like that. I'm doing my best to be understanding and patient, but I've almost had enough. I think right brainers should try harder to be like left brainers. Or, at least the right brainers that I have to work with in a collaborative environment.

Since it has been a while...

I decided to go ahead and post something. It's going to be about the things that I want. So, I want:
1. a baby
2. my doctorate
3. to move

I'm not sure to go about accomplishing all of these things, because they conflict with each other. If I have a baby, I'm not going to have a lot of time and energy to pursue my doctorate. If I pursue my doctorate, Chris and I aren't going to have enough money to move into another house. So, I'm stuck, and I don't know what to do. I guess I'll just keep reminding myself that patience is a virtue, and I should be a virtuous person.

killing bugs

An exterminator from Chief Pest Control is here right now making me a very happy woman, because he is killing bugs around our house. Especially the evil crickets!

Lake Powell

Chris and I just got back from a one week vacation to Lake Powell. We were invited by our friend John. Twelve of us stayed on a houseboat, and it was a great time! John's parents, John and Leona, are 81 and 82 years old, and they're a riot! John's sister and brother-in-law, Cheryl and Bill, also came along for the ride. Their daughter and son-in-law, Erin and Drew, joined us a couple of days into the stay. And, John's buddy, Lissa, added a unique element to the group. Lastly, our friends from Yuma, Cindy and Brent, traveled in the Suburban with us to and from the lake.

We spent Friday night in Flagstaff, and then we headed to Page, AZ on Saturday morning. The lake is HUGE! And, it is surrounded by mountains made of sandstone that literally crumble right before your eyes. Our houseboat was named Tranquility, and it was one of the more modest boats on the lake. There's a lot of money floating on Lake Powell!

During the trip, I read "Dear John" by Nicholas Sparks, and it was a beautiful love story. It only took me a couple of days to read. Chris put on an awesome fireworks show too! It was like a professional one. I also kayaked for the first time and absolutely loved it! We also rode our jet ski and swam in the lake.

Overall, the trip was very relaxing, but I was happy to get home to my googs!

finishing up the year

It's funny how teachers think about finishing up the year in June! Well, we do. At this point in time, I'm cleaning out my classroom slowly, but surely. All of the kids keep saying how weird it looks. Anyhow...

I'm full of anticipation to begin my new job as a dance and drama teacher at Gila Ridge High School in August. Less work, more money sounds good to me:)

So, here's to three more days of school!

Class of 2008

On Friday, May 16, 2008 I graduated from Northern Arizona University - Yuma Branch Campus. It was a great feeling to have the past two years behind me! And, somehow I managed to keep my 4.o!!! So for that, I was invited to participate in the Honors Convocation, in which the candidate for an associates degree were more celebrated than us, people getting their masters. Huh? Afterwards, I participated in the graduation ceremony, which dragged on and on. In the end, I'm glad I chose to walk, but it makes for a pretty long day. On a side note - I didn't have my hood or honors cords, so I was upset about that, because I felt naked.

My unconventional family came to visit me for the weekend, and we had a really good time together. I wasn't sure if everything would turn out well, but it did. So, that made me very happy. I'm looking forward to the next time, when I get to wear a fancy gown and hood and people use a prestigious title to address me:) Hopefully, that's in five or six years, making it the Class of 2013 or 2014. Time will tell.

one step closer

I'm one step closer to finishing my lengthy college education. It has been eight years since I first enrolled at the University of Arizona, and I'm still at least four years from my ultimate goal of obtaining a doctorate. And after two long years, I'm not sure exactly how I feel about that, because my feelings change from day to day.

In Literature today, my students and I read an excerpt from the short story "Eleven." In it, Rachel, the narrator, comes to the realization that your age encompasses all of the ages experienced before it. So me being 26 years old is really me being 26, 25, 24, 23, 22...11, 10, 9...3, 2, and 1. When we live our day-to-day lives, we have moments of being any one of the given ages. And that is exactly how I feel about college. Some days I'm an extremely confidant 26 year old who knows that great things are worth the work. But on other days, I'm an insecure sixteen year old who worries that I'm not good enough, not worthy enough, to complete the highest degree.

As of now, I'm definitely going to apply to the program and, upon being accepted, begin the coursework. That's all I'm ready to think about for now, not the second year, or third, or fourth, or possibly fifth, or six, etc. I know that everything happens for a reason, and I will get my doctorate if and when I do. (I'm not sure what age was talking there, maybe my 20 year old self.)

Finals

I just finished my last final of this semester. Days like today make me wonder why exactly I'm hell-bent on getting a doctorate. On Facebook, one of my friends posted about her last final EVER, and I wondered to myself when I would take my last final EVER...who knows?!?

People who are homeless

should NEVER own dogs! It's cruel and unusual punishment, and it should be illegal.

On my way home from work today, I noticed a woman sitting down on the lawn of a McDonald's, and panting next to hear was a dog. It was skinny and had its tail between its legs. It made me angry.

Lethal Injection

Apparently, it's a good thing that I am not a member of the Supreme Court, because I never agree with those people. Lethal injection, and executions in general, should not exist in the U.S. or any other country for that matter.

How are people able to put another person to death without one hundred percent certainty that that person is guilty of a crime? And even when they are without doubt, how can they take the life of another person?

I will never understand execution, because children learn what they live and as adults they act on the dysfunction that has consumed them. When you learn about the childhoods of the people on death row, you begin to understand their pain (pain is at the heart of dysfunction and the reason why people commit crimes) and how they came to be in their situation. Then, you see them as a human being, not a monster who deserves to die.

As a teacher, especially, I feel like I have an insight into the painful lives of children because I know what some of my students have already lived through in their short lives. And, whatever path they choose for their future, I would never wish death upon them.

Our country needs to come together, love and discipline our children, in order to avoid the need for capital punishment. It is an issue of time and money. But, it is not our job to bring them to their deaths, because that will happen naturally and the most evil people will have their judgment day.

Ballet...

kicked my ass tonight!!!

fair night

A group of us went to the Yuma County fair last night. First thing first, we had to get our hands on the amazing food. Over priced and delicious! I had a gigantic bbq pork sandwich and a diet soda to even things out. Next, we went to ride the rides. But, I don't actually like to ride the rides, so I just watched with a few other people who don't do rides. It actually made me feel sick just watching!

This entire time, we were having a contest to see who could identify the most students, present and former, at the fair. I think the top count was 42. Oh, the joys of being a teacher!

There are the most decadent cinnamon rolls at the fair. They put Cinnabon to shame! And, that's saying a lot! So, Chris and I shared one of those. Mmm...

I think I forgot to mention the 4H animals somewhere in there. Well, we looked at them too. It's weird to me that the preppiest kids ever raise pigs, steers, goats, etc. Do you know what they do if their animal dies in the process of them raising it? They simply enter its carcass into the competition. Hmm...

Baby goats are adorable! I might be able to handle one of those in the future.

What else did we do? We watched a hypnotist hypnotize ten people. One of the people happened to be one of my coworker's boyfriend, Will, the scrawniest Marine you've ever seen in your life. Anyhow, I was in disbelief the whole time, but it seemed real. Who knows?!?

Oh yeah...you were supposed to be 16 to participate in the hypnotizing, but one of our students, Sabrina, volunteered and she's only 14. I'm going to have to mention that to her on Monday. I love being a teacher!

At the end of the night, I went on the ferris wheel. I'm even scared to be on that ride, because the older I get the more afraid of heights I become. And, the fact that I could've died on it doesn't help me out too much either!

poker night

My coworkers and I get together on a regular basis for Poker Night. Each person prepares a dish, and we all eat dinner together and then sit down for a couple of rounds of Texas Hold 'Em. It's almost become a tradition, and it's a lot of fun!

Well, last night marked my first win! Yea! I beat Chris, and I was so happy that I screamed:) It was a long game, because the pots kept shifting between Chris, Monica, and me. But, I finally did it--I won!

Afterwards, we went to Crazy Earl's, a bar in the Foothills, so I used my poker pot of ten dollars to buy Chris and me a couple of drinks. It was so awesome to be out on a Sunday night, because as teachers we don't get to do that very often. We danced to the Cupid Shuffle, Fergie, Britney, and Snoop. All-in-all, it was a good time. Plus, I got to know Tess, one of my coworkers, a lot better, and she seems like a nice person. And, it was her birthday, so we wished her a happy b-day on the pool table score board:)

flying high

I was watching a show about dreams and what they mean. The expert featured on the program said that if you're ever flying in your dream, it means that you're content with your life because you're in a really good place. So, I thought back and couldn't remember a single time when I was flying in my dreams. I'm not sure exactly what that means, because I feel like I'm generally happy with things. Also, if there's ever a time in your dreams when your teeth fall out, it represents a sense of holding back something you've been wanting to say. I think it's all very interesting!

Here's to flying high!

two years ago

Two years ago I was spending my time as a newlywed with my husband at the Arizona Inn.

As I sat up tonight, typing away at the computer trying to finish two last minute article reviews for EPS 610, I began to reflect on our wedding, our reception, and the amazing days that followed. I'd love to be there right now teaching Chris about hot water and lemon hand soaks, laying out by the pool, walking the grounds and listening to people who saw me the night before remind me of what a beautiful bride I was.

Unfortunately, the only luxury I can afford myself now is the satisfaction of knowing that doing my homework is earning me a master's degree that is going to help pay for mini-vacations to the AZ Inn for many anniversaries to come. I can't wait!!!

A More Perfect Union

Remarks of Senator Barack Obama: 'A More Perfect Union'

Philadelphia, PA | March 18, 2008
As Prepared for Delivery

"We the people, in order to form a more perfect union."

Two hundred and twenty one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men gathered and, with these simple words, launched America's improbable experiment in democracy. Farmers and scholars; statesmen and patriots who had traveled across an ocean to escape tyranny and persecution finally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted through the spring of 1787.

The document they produced was eventually signed but ultimately unfinished. It was stained by this nation's original sin of slavery, a question that divided the colonies and brought the convention to a stalemate until the founders chose to allow the slave trade to continue for at least twenty more years, and to leave any final resolution to future generations.

Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution - a Constitution that had at its very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that promised its people liberty, and justice, and a union that could be and should be perfected over time.

And yet words on a parchment would not be enough to deliver slaves from bondage, or provide men and women of every color and creed their full rights and obligations as citizens of the United States. What would be needed were Americans in successive generations who were willing to do their part - through protests and struggle, on the streets and in the courts, through a civil war and civil disobedience and always at great risk - to narrow that gap between the promise of our ideals and the reality of their time.

This was one of the tasks we set forth at the beginning of this campaign - to continue the long march of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more prosperous America. I chose to run for the presidency at this moment in history because I believe deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together - unless we perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to move in the same direction - towards a better future for our children and our grandchildren.

This belief comes from my unyielding faith in the decency and generosity of the American people. But it also comes from my own American story.

I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton's Army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world's poorest nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slaveowners - an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible.

It's a story that hasn't made me the most conventional candidate. But it is a story that has seared into my genetic makeup the idea that this nation is more than the sum of its parts - that out of many, we are truly one.

Throughout the first year of this campaign, against all predictions to the contrary, we saw how hungry the American people were for this message of unity. Despite the temptation to view my candidacy through a purely racial lens, we won commanding victories in states with some of the whitest populations in the country. In South Carolina, where the Confederate Flag still flies, we built a powerful coalition of African Americans and white Americans.

This is not to say that race has not been an issue in the campaign. At various stages in the campaign, some commentators have deemed me either "too black" or "not black enough." We saw racial tensions bubble to the surface during the week before the South Carolina primary. The press has scoured every exit poll for the latest evidence of racial polarization, not just in terms of white and black, but black and brown as well.

And yet, it has only been in the last couple of weeks that the discussion of race in this campaign has taken a particularly divisive turn.

On one end of the spectrum, we've heard the implication that my candidacy is somehow an exercise in affirmative action; that it's based solely on the desire of wide-eyed liberals to purchase racial reconciliation on the cheap. On the other end, we've heard my former pastor, Reverend Jeremiah Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have the potential not only to widen the racial divide, but views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation; that rightly offend white and black alike.

I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, the statements of Reverend Wright that have caused such controversy. For some, nagging questions remain. Did I know him to be an occasionally fierce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course. Did I ever hear him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of his political views? Absolutely - just as I'm sure many of you have heard remarks from your pastors, priests, or rabbis with which you strongly disagreed.

But the remarks that have caused this recent firestorm weren't simply controversial. They weren't simply a religious leader's effort to speak out against perceived injustice. Instead, they expressed a profoundly distorted view of this country - a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America; a view that sees the conflicts in the Middle East as rooted primarily in the actions of stalwart allies like Israel, instead of emanating from the perverse and hateful ideologies of radical Islam.

As such, Reverend Wright's comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems - two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all.

Given my background, my politics, and my professed values and ideals, there will no doubt be those for whom my statements of condemnation are not enough. Why associate myself with Reverend Wright in the first place, they may ask? Why not join another church? And I confess that if all that I knew of Reverend Wright were the snippets of those sermons that have run in an endless loop on the television and You Tube, or if Trinity United Church of Christ conformed to the caricatures being peddled by some commentators, there is no doubt that I would react in much the same way

But the truth is, that isn't all that I know of the man. The man I met more than twenty years ago is a man who helped introduce me to my Christian faith, a man who spoke to me about our obligations to love one another; to care for the sick and lift up the poor. He is a man who served his country as a U.S. Marine; who has studied and lectured at some of the finest universities and seminaries in the country, and who for over thirty years led a church that serves the community by doing God's work here on Earth - by housing the homeless, ministering to the needy, providing day care services and scholarships and prison ministries, and reaching out to those suffering from HIV/AIDS.

In my first book, Dreams From My Father, I described the experience of my first service at Trinity:

"People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the reverend's voice up into the rafters....And in that single note - hope! - I heard something else; at the foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion's den, Ezekiel's field of dry bones. Those stories - of survival, and freedom, and hope - became our story, my story; the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears; until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future generations and into a larger world. Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, black and more than black; in chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a means to reclaim memories that we didn't need to feel shame about...memories that all people might study and cherish - and with which we could start to rebuild."

That has been my experience at Trinity. Like other predominantly black churches across the country, Trinity embodies the black community in its entirety - the doctor and the welfare mom, the model student and the former gang-banger. Like other black churches, Trinity's services are full of raucous laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. They are full of dancing, clapping, screaming and shouting that may seem jarring to the untrained ear. The church contains in full the kindness and cruelty, the fierce intelligence and the shocking ignorance, the struggles and successes, the love and yes, the bitterness and bias that make up the black experience in America.

And this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship with Reverend Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he has been like family to me. He strengthened my faith, officiated my wedding, and baptized my children. Not once in my conversations with him have I heard him talk about any ethnic group in derogatory terms, or treat whites with whom he interacted with anything but courtesy and respect. He contains within him the contradictions - the good and the bad - of the community that he has served diligently for so many years.

I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother - a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.

These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love.

Some will see this as an attempt to justify or excuse comments that are simply inexcusable. I can assure you it is not. I suppose the politically safe thing would be to move on from this episode and just hope that it fades into the woodwork. We can dismiss Reverend Wright as a crank or a demagogue, just as some have dismissed Geraldine Ferraro, in the aftermath of her recent statements, as harboring some deep-seated racial bias.

But race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now. We would be making the same mistake that Reverend Wright made in his offending sermons about America - to simplify and stereotype and amplify the negative to the point that it distorts reality.

The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last few weeks reflect the complexities of race in this country that we've never really worked through - a part of our union that we have yet to perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our respective corners, we will never be able to come together and solve challenges like health care, or education, or the need to find good jobs for every American.

Understanding this reality requires a reminder of how we arrived at this point. As William Faulkner once wrote, "The past isn't dead and buried. In fact, it isn't even past." We do not need to recite here the history of racial injustice in this country. But we do need to remind ourselves that so many of the disparities that exist in the African-American community today can be directly traced to inequalities passed on from an earlier generation that suffered under the brutal legacy of slavery and Jim Crow.

Segregated schools were, and are, inferior schools; we still haven't fixed them, fifty years after Brown v. Board of Education, and the inferior education they provided, then and now, helps explain the pervasive achievement gap between today's black and white students.

Legalized discrimination - where blacks were prevented, often through violence, from owning property, or loans were not granted to African-American business owners, or black homeowners could not access FHA mortgages, or blacks were excluded from unions, or the police force, or fire departments - meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealth to bequeath to future generations. That history helps explain the wealth and income gap between black and white, and the concentrated pockets of poverty that persists in so many of today's urban and rural communities.

A lack of economic opportunity among black men, and the shame and frustration that came from not being able to provide for one's family, contributed to the erosion of black families - a problem that welfare policies for many years may have worsened. And the lack of basic services in so many urban black neighborhoods - parks for kids to play in, police walking the beat, regular garbage pick-up and building code enforcement - all helped create a cycle of violence, blight and neglect that continue to haunt us.

This is the reality in which Reverend Wright and other African-Americans of his generation grew up. They came of age in the late fifties and early sixties, a time when segregation was still the law of the land and opportunity was systematically constricted. What's remarkable is not how many failed in the face of discrimination, but rather how many men and women overcame the odds; how many were able to make a way out of no way for those like me who would come after them.

But for all those who scratched and clawed their way to get a piece of the American Dream, there were many who didn't make it - those who were ultimately defeated, in one way or another, by discrimination. That legacy of defeat was passed on to future generations - those young men and increasingly young women who we see standing on street corners or languishing in our prisons, without hope or prospects for the future. Even for those blacks who did make it, questions of race, and racism, continue to define their worldview in fundamental ways. For the men and women of Reverend Wright's generation, the memories of humiliation and doubt and fear have not gone away; nor has the anger and the bitterness of those years. That anger may not get expressed in public, in front of white co-workers or white friends. But it does find voice in the barbershop or around the kitchen table. At times, that anger is exploited by politicians, to gin up votes along racial lines, or to make up for a politician's own failings.

And occasionally it finds voice in the church on Sunday morning, in the pulpit and in the pews. The fact that so many people are surprised to hear that anger in some of Reverend Wright's sermons simply reminds us of the old truism that the most segregated hour in American life occurs on Sunday morning. That anger is not always productive; indeed, all too often it distracts attention from solving real problems; it keeps us from squarely facing our own complicity in our condition, and prevents the African-American community from forging the alliances it needs to bring about real change. But the anger is real; it is powerful; and to simply wish it away, to condemn it without understanding its roots, only serves to widen the chasm of misunderstanding that exists between the races.

In fact, a similar anger exists within segments of the white community. Most working- and middle-class white Americans don't feel that they have been particularly privileged by their race. Their experience is the immigrant experience - as far as they're concerned, no one's handed them anything, they've built it from scratch. They've worked hard all their lives, many times only to see their jobs shipped overseas or their pension dumped after a lifetime of labor. They are anxious about their futures, and feel their dreams slipping away; in an era of stagnant wages and global competition, opportunity comes to be seen as a zero sum game, in which your dreams come at my expense. So when they are told to bus their children to a school across town; when they hear that an African American is getting an advantage in landing a good job or a spot in a good college because of an injustice that they themselves never committed; when they're told that their fears about crime in urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced, resentment builds over time.

Like the anger within the black community, these resentments aren't always expressed in polite company. But they have helped shape the political landscape for at least a generation. Anger over welfare and affirmative action helped forge the Reagan Coalition. Politicians routinely exploited fears of crime for their own electoral ends. Talk show hosts and conservative commentators built entire careers unmasking bogus claims of racism while dismissing legitimate discussions of racial injustice and inequality as mere political correctness or reverse racism.

Just as black anger often proved counterproductive, so have these white resentments distracted attention from the real culprits of the middle class squeeze - a corporate culture rife with inside dealing, questionable accounting practices, and short-term greed; a Washington dominated by lobbyists and special interests; economic policies that favor the few over the many. And yet, to wish away the resentments of white Americans, to label them as misguided or even racist, without recognizing they are grounded in legitimate concerns - this too widens the racial divide, and blocks the path to understanding.

This is where we are right now. It's a racial stalemate we've been stuck in for years. Contrary to the claims of some of my critics, black and white, I have never been so naïve as to believe that we can get beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle, or with a single candidacy - particularly a candidacy as imperfect as my own.

But I have asserted a firm conviction - a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the American people - that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and that in fact we have no choice is we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union.

For the African-American community, that path means embracing the burdens of our past without becoming victims of our past. It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect of American life. But it also means binding our particular grievances - for better health care, and better schools, and better jobs - to the larger aspirations of all Americans -- the white woman struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man whose been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed his family. And it means taking full responsibility for own lives - by demanding more from our fathers, and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or cynicism; they must always believe that they can write their own destiny.

Ironically, this quintessentially American - and yes, conservative - notion of self-help found frequent expression in Reverend Wright's sermons. But what my former pastor too often failed to understand is that embarking on a program of self-help also requires a belief that society can change.

The profound mistake of Reverend Wright's sermons is not that he spoke about racism in our society. It's that he spoke as if our society was static; as if no progress has been made; as if this country - a country that has made it possible for one of his own members to run for the highest office in the land and build a coalition of white and black; Latino and Asian, rich and poor, young and old -- is still irrevocably bound to a tragic past. But what we know -- what we have seen - is that America can change. That is the true genius of this nation. What we have already achieved gives us hope - the audacity to hope - for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

In the white community, the path to a more perfect union means acknowledging that what ails the African-American community does not just exist in the minds of black people; that the legacy of discrimination - and current incidents of discrimination, while less overt than in the past - are real and must be addressed. Not just with words, but with deeds - by investing in our schools and our communities; by enforcing our civil rights laws and ensuring fairness in our criminal justice system; by providing this generation with ladders of opportunity that were unavailable for previous generations. It requires all Americans to realize that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my dreams; that investing in the health, welfare, and education of black and brown and white children will ultimately help all of America prosper.

In the end, then, what is called for is nothing more, and nothing less, than what all the world's great religions demand - that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Let us be our brother's keeper, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sister's keeper. Let us find that common stake we all have in one another, and let our politics reflect that spirit as well.

For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle - as we did in the OJ trial - or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright's sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she's playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.

We can do that.

But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we'll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.

That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, "Not this time." This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can't learn; that those kids who don't look like us are somebody else's problem. The children of America are not those kids, they are our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in a 21st century economy. Not this time.

This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are filled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care; who don't have the power on their own to overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together.

This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn't look like you might take your job; it's that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit.

This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, and fight together, and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that never should've been authorized and never should've been waged, and we want to talk about how we'll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and giving them the benefits they have earned.

I would not be running for President if I didn't believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation - the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election.

There is one story in particularly that I'd like to leave you with today - a story I told when I had the great honor of speaking on Dr. King's birthday at his home church, Ebenezer Baptist, in Atlanta.

There is a young, twenty-three year old white woman named Ashley Baia who organized for our campaign in Florence, South Carolina. She had been working to organize a mostly African-American community since the beginning of this campaign, and one day she was at a roundtable discussion where everyone went around telling their story and why they were there.

And Ashley said that when she was nine years old, her mother got cancer. And because she had to miss days of work, she was let go and lost her health care. They had to file for bankruptcy, and that's when Ashley decided that she had to do something to help her mom.

She knew that food was one of their most expensive costs, and so Ashley convinced her mother that what she really liked and really wanted to eat more than anything else was mustard and relish sandwiches. Because that was the cheapest way to eat.

She did this for a year until her mom got better, and she told everyone at the roundtable that the reason she joined our campaign was so that she could help the millions of other children in the country who want and need to help their parents too.

Now Ashley might have made a different choice. Perhaps somebody told her along the way that the source of her mother's problems were blacks who were on welfare and too lazy to work, or Hispanics who were coming into the country illegally. But she didn't. She sought out allies in her fight against injustice.

Anyway, Ashley finishes her story and then goes around the room and asks everyone else why they're supporting the campaign. They all have different stories and reasons. Many bring up a specific issue. And finally they come to this elderly black man who's been sitting there quietly the entire time. And Ashley asks him why he's there. And he does not bring up a specific issue. He does not say health care or the economy. He does not say education or the war. He does not say that he was there because of Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in the room, "I am here because of Ashley."

"I'm here because of Ashley." By itself, that single moment of recognition between that young white girl and that old black man is not enough. It is not enough to give health care to the sick, or jobs to the jobless, or education to our children.

But it is where we start. It is where our union grows stronger. And as so many generations have come to realize over the course of the two-hundred and twenty one years since a band of patriots signed that document in Philadelphia, that is where the perfection begins.

you don't get it

On a regular basis, I find myself wondering why there are so many people in this country who just don't get it. I hear them talking in the teacher's lounge, on the campus of NAU-Yuma, and on TV. It seems like they're everywhere! They remind me of my dad's song, "You Don't Get It."

Olivia

Olivia is growing up so fast! She's going to be sixteen on Sunday, and I can't believe it. I'm so proud of the person she has become and the person I know she'll be. There isn't anyone I would have rather given up being an only child to.

I'll never forget the day my mom told me she was going to have a baby. (I was being my OC self and arranging the stuffed animals in my bedroom.) I also remember wondering if my mom could have anything other than a boy or a girl! No, apparently that isn't possible. Although, Olivia looked very similar to a baby monkey when she was born.

As children, we shared good times and bad times. I think six and sixteen were the hardest ages for us to co-exist. Ugh! There are pros and cons to being ten years apart, and if you asked us we'd probably have different answers. But, unless the unexpected happens, I don't plan on having a ten year gap between my children.

Barack Obama

In my anticipation of tomorrow's outcomes, I want to spread a quote from Barack Obama.

“Focusing your life solely on making a buck shows a certain poverty of ambition. It asks too little of yourself. Because it's only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you realize your true potential.”
-Barack Obama

Giving

I am in the profession of giving. I am a teacher. The children I teach need a lot of love, and everyday I show them love. I constantly give them the things they ask for and the things I think they need. It's exhausting!

Today, my principal asked me to give more, especially to the students who are the least receptive. I understand where he's coming from, but I am overwhelmed by his request. I cannot give anymore than I do already.

I want my students to give more. I want their parents to give more. I want our administration to give more. I want our community to give more. I want our state to give more. I want our nation to give more. Because I am not the only person responsible for giving my students what they want, what they need, and what they deserve.

I want people to realize that teaching is a calling. It is a way of life. Since first grade, I knew that I would be a teacher. I have realized my dream.

Super Tuesday

I have my official early balloting material in front of me right now, and I'm pumped up to vote! It should be interesting to see what happens...

Just Right

It's rainy right now in Yuma and has been for most of the day. Chris is asleep on the couch with Zoe. Jackson is sleeping on our bed. Everything seems just right. Sunday has always been my favorite day of the week for reasons like these.

Identity

Tonight's class discussion about theories of psychology got me thinking about identity. Many theorists (e.g., Erikson) argue that a person must realize who they are, their identity, before intimately committing to another person. I disagree. At the age of 16, when I met Chris, I didn't know who I was. I'm not even 100% sure of who I am today, but I am fully and deeply committed to Chris. A woman in class shared her story about how she was married at 16 and divorced at 21. She argued that her lack of identity was to blame for her divorce. I'm just not sure...

What I know to be true and real is destiny. Chris and I created our destiny. We've worked hard to maintain our relationship, because we are both in it forever and believe that we are each other's destiny. I'm not sure where the theory comes into all of this, but I know that our love is real.

things of importance

The textbook for my class about educational psychology cost me $118.50. One book. No CD or anything else that is worth my while. How utterly disappointing. It made me think back to this past summer and the history of public education class that I took. I don't think my professor ever mentioned the date in which public education became a business. Oh well.

I'm off of my soap box now. (Just thought I'd let you know.)

Life and Death:
Something else that has been on my mind is the taking away of human life. The Democrats and Republicans like to blame each other for the desecration of the human race. When, in reality, they're both to blame. Democrats support a woman's right to have an abortion (a.k.a the right to privacy) and Republicans support war and the death penalty. This doesn't make sense.

I'm confused.

Human life is miraculous and should be treated as so.

facebook: The People Place
Over the last several days, I've reconnected with a lot of my friends through facebook. Girls I used to dance with in the Tucson Regional Ballet Company...people from middle and high school...former coworkers...childhood friends. It has been amazing! The entire experience has brought me to a new understanding of friendship.
When I was younger, I valued my friends for the ways in which they made me feel, not their unique gifts. Reading through the profiles of my friends on facebook, I realized how phenomenal each one of them is. My friends are ballerinas; graduate students; costume designers; photographers; baristas; parents; politicians; and social workers.
I'm fortunate to have been exposed to their greatness, and I appreciate every moment they have shared with me.

PERFECTIONism:
Nothing is ever good enough when I'm... getting ready for work... writing...cleaning...teaching...preparing a meal...folding clothes...doing homework...putting my makeup on...making my coffee...talking...eating...doing my hair...and, everything can be better.

All of this, because I'm consumed by PERFECTIONism.

lotus day spa

Yesterday I experienced four hours of much-needed, well-deserved bliss. The Lotus Day Spa in Yuma gave me a little piece of heaven! For Christmas, Chris gave me a gift card for the spa. After trying to schedule a weekend appointment, which was impossible, I decided to take a day off of work and go to the spa. I admit it, I'm a rebel. I received a massage, facial, manicure, and pedicure. My nails are painted Pink Orchid by OPI. It's so pretty! I think it's important for people, especially women, to take time for themselves to relax and rejuvenate. I'm slowly learning how to do just this. I know spa days work miracles, because I no longer get chronic migraine headaches. The spa definitely lowers my stress. When was the last time you took the day off to go to the spa?

In the beginning

This blog marks the beginning of my journey through NAU's doctoral program. I'm pursuing my Ed.D. in Curriculum and Instruction, and the fun's just beginning. (And, a lot of work!) I'm working on compiling the many parts of my application, and the deadline is August 1st.