It has now been a little more than two years since we formally moved from Spain to Cincinnati to call it home. Mostly it has been pleasant, but there have been a few rough spots. Nothing, however, as rough as the time the Alhamoud family has had since their home in Syria was leveled by bombs in 2011and they lived first with grandparents, and then in a refugee camp, before coming to the United States in October 2015.
In a three-part feature, the Cincinnati Enquirer reported this week on the first Syrian refugee family to find its way to Cincinnati to be resettled. They had received a call from the United Nations in July 2015, while they were in a camp in Jordan, asking whether they would come to the US. Yes, said the father, thinking primarily of the possibility of a peaceful future for his children. It took more than a year of vetting before they set foot on the plane that took them from Jordan to Rome to Miami and then to Greater Cincinnati International Airport, in northern Kentucky.
The Enquirer story talks about the life they had in Syria before the war, the loss of their home and numerous family members, and the effort that they have made over the past year to adjust to life in Cincinnati: for all to learn English; for the father to find a good employer; for the mother to learn to care for her family in a very different environment and help them and herself heal from the terrors from which they have tried to flee; for the children to go to school and make friends; for everyone to manage to live with an uncertain future.
My UU community has been working to be connected with a refugee family to "adopt" for the past year, and this week I thought that we were close to finding one. But after we gathered commitment from at least five members to be actively involved in providing English language tutoring, transportation to grocery stores and medical appointments, help with children's homework, assistance in preparing for job interviews, and providing a general welcoming presence and orientation to the community, we learned that we were too late for the two families coming in the next two weeks. It's a good thing, I suppose, that there are more people wanting to adopt refugee families than there are families, or is it? There is not a dearth of families needing resettlement; there just are few coming to the US and to Cincinnati. And we are entering an era in which there may be even fewer coming across the Atlantic than there have been.
Nevertheless I expect there will be some more refugees and some more chances. I recommended the article "Finding Home" to the refugee support group this morning for background reading, because of the illuminating picture it gives about the resilience of refugees and the many people and efforts required to help someone make a new home for themselves.
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Time and Time Again
Then this past Sunday, after returning on Tuesday across only five, instead of the usual six, hours of time difference, we were in Cincinnati. We had not adjusted to the time difference yet and were still in the mode of waking at 1:30 or 2:30 AM, and struggling to stay awake until 8:30 at night. And then we had to deal with another changing of the clocks on Saturday night, just a week after we had already done it. We didn't have an efficient hotel staff to put a note in the elevator this time, but fortunately the mechanism inside the iPad adjusts itself automatically, so when I wok up in the middle of the night--2:30 AM--I didn't even have to remember that we had changed times. In fact, I didn't remember it until later, after I had slept a few more hours, and I went downstairs and turned on the CBS Sunday Morning program and realized that it was only 8:05 instead of the 9:05 that it said on my digital devices. I had to look at the analog clocks to remember that we had changed, and then I occupied myself with running around the house and setting them back. There are more than I would have guessed.
What I don't understand is why Europe and the Americas cannot agree on a common time to make this seasonal switch. For one week of the year, rail, bus, and airline timetables have to be adjusted to accommodate the first change, and then a week later, they have to be adjusted again when the second change comes. Broadcast schedules also have to be adjusted during that week--we had trouble getting the Danish morning news program that we often listen to in bed before 7:00 AM because we didn't know when it would be available. That's an inconvenience, but I worry more about the potential for miscommunication in serious international interconnections.Whatever automatic time settings are on the hotline between those with their fingers on the nuclear trigger--I hope someone has taken time change into consideration so warnings are adjusted and nothing goes off unintentionally!
But I didn't write about this last week, since time got away from me. By now I have adjusted to the five (or six) hour time difference between Europe and the Eastern U.S.--a late night on Tuesday this week helped that; or rather, it was the night after only two and a half hours of sleep on Tuesday night when I was finally able to sleep until a reasonable time on Thursday morning. And now I have other thoughts of "time and time again," for it is not the first time in my life that I have awoken on the morning after an election feeling worried and disappointed. I don't seem to have made much progress in my life in aligning my country's leadership with my own ethical and political values. But they don't seem to have made much headway in getting me to change mine, either.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
A Sentimental Journey
I'll be back in Cincinnati soon--just in time to turn my ballot in a little early. In the meantime, I've been visiting friends in Spain, where I used to live, and I've been posting on my original blog, http://sundaysinspain.blogspot.com.es.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Musical Memories
I've been thinking about an upcoming trip to Spain to see friends where we used to live. Mostly I've been checking the logistics of air and train arrangements, hotels, and whom we plan to see when. Plus I've been wondering about my packable wardrobe for three separate locations--and have just changed back to my original idea (beige, brown, and orange) from my second idea (blue), based on the realization that I don't have any shoes to wear with the blue outfits. Only in fleeting glimpses have I begun to picture myself actually driving around in the territory that we knew so well up until two years ago, checking out some favorite cafés, and thinking about a few items I may want to pick up at stores and markets that I used to frequent.
So this morning when we stopped at Kroger's on the way home from church to grab a single package of frozen peas (how I ever ran out of this staple in my house, I do not know) and I heard the music of a jazz saxophone as we pulled into the parking lot, I sat bolt upright. Had I fallen asleep and slipped across the ocean unconsciously? Was I in Spain already? When we lived in Spain, you see, a regular sight and sound whenever we went to any one of the local grocery stores was the musician playing a tune outside the entrance door (and the exit door). I'm not sure if it was a long-standing cultural occurrence or whether it just started after 2008, when the economy got so bad, but it certainly persisted up through the rest of our stay in Spain. Some of the musicians were not bad and you were happy to toss a few coins into the case or box they had in front of them. There was one, though, that was horrid; he knew only one song and that not very well. It was almost as though you would toss coins in the box so that he would stop playing for a fraction of a minute while he thanked you.
The saxophonist in front of the Woodlawn Kroger store just after noon today was good, and nice, and appreciative when we immediately, on the way in, put some money in the hat to show our appreciation. I was sorry that he stopped playing for several seconds while he thanked us and wished us a good day.
We completed our purchases (discovering, of course, that we "needed" several more items besides the package of frozen peas that I had gone in for) and I made a point of telling the check-out woman how much I enjoyed the playing of the musician out front. Since I had never seen or heard a musician in front of Kroger's, I was really afraid that someone in authority was going to come out and tell him to move away. She smiled and thanked us, so I am hopeful that no one will do that. Then on the way out, I fished out all my loose change and again dropped something into his container, and again he stopped playing momentarily, thanked me, and wished us a good day. As we got into the car and drove out of the parking lot, I noticed he had switched tunes--there were two small twin boys standing with their father in front of him, and he was treating them to a short rendition of "Three Blind Mice."
I wish I had a picture of this musician to show you, but the only picture is the one that resides in my brain. It was a lovely foreshadowing to my upcoming trip into one of my past lives, prompting me to think about and recall places, images, and occurrences that were important to me. Now, as I remember, I am making a note to check the price of frozen peas at the Mercadona supermercado--in the twelve years we lived in Spain, I used that price as my own "McDonald's Index" of inflation and comparative pricing, watching the price go from 85 centimos steadily upward to over 90--or had it reached a euro?
So this morning when we stopped at Kroger's on the way home from church to grab a single package of frozen peas (how I ever ran out of this staple in my house, I do not know) and I heard the music of a jazz saxophone as we pulled into the parking lot, I sat bolt upright. Had I fallen asleep and slipped across the ocean unconsciously? Was I in Spain already? When we lived in Spain, you see, a regular sight and sound whenever we went to any one of the local grocery stores was the musician playing a tune outside the entrance door (and the exit door). I'm not sure if it was a long-standing cultural occurrence or whether it just started after 2008, when the economy got so bad, but it certainly persisted up through the rest of our stay in Spain. Some of the musicians were not bad and you were happy to toss a few coins into the case or box they had in front of them. There was one, though, that was horrid; he knew only one song and that not very well. It was almost as though you would toss coins in the box so that he would stop playing for a fraction of a minute while he thanked you.
The saxophonist in front of the Woodlawn Kroger store just after noon today was good, and nice, and appreciative when we immediately, on the way in, put some money in the hat to show our appreciation. I was sorry that he stopped playing for several seconds while he thanked us and wished us a good day.
We completed our purchases (discovering, of course, that we "needed" several more items besides the package of frozen peas that I had gone in for) and I made a point of telling the check-out woman how much I enjoyed the playing of the musician out front. Since I had never seen or heard a musician in front of Kroger's, I was really afraid that someone in authority was going to come out and tell him to move away. She smiled and thanked us, so I am hopeful that no one will do that. Then on the way out, I fished out all my loose change and again dropped something into his container, and again he stopped playing momentarily, thanked me, and wished us a good day. As we got into the car and drove out of the parking lot, I noticed he had switched tunes--there were two small twin boys standing with their father in front of him, and he was treating them to a short rendition of "Three Blind Mice."
I wish I had a picture of this musician to show you, but the only picture is the one that resides in my brain. It was a lovely foreshadowing to my upcoming trip into one of my past lives, prompting me to think about and recall places, images, and occurrences that were important to me. Now, as I remember, I am making a note to check the price of frozen peas at the Mercadona supermercado--in the twelve years we lived in Spain, I used that price as my own "McDonald's Index" of inflation and comparative pricing, watching the price go from 85 centimos steadily upward to over 90--or had it reached a euro?
Sunday, September 25, 2016
The Endorsement of the Century
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| © 2016 Cincinnati Enquirer |
The best news I had this week was the surprise announcement that the Cincinnati Enquirer had endorsed Hillary Clinton for president of the United States. It is truly the endorsement of the century--the Enquirer editorial board has not endorsed another Democratic candidate since 1914. The long, well-reasoned, and yes, conservative, statement is here. It bears thoughtful reading by all.
And if you are interested in how the team at the Enquirer came to their decision, and why it is even important for newspapers to endorse candidates in this day and age, you can find out in this video presentation.
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Blue Lake, Michigan
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| One of the entries in the 2016 Fremont Harvest Festival Hay Art Competition |
Those summers at Lakeside had obviously made an impression on her, for the house I visited nearly fifty years later was also at a lakeside. She and her husband had built a cottage next to Blue Lake soon after they were married, and it served as a summer home for them, both school teachers, and their four children during the children's growing-up years. As time went on, they expanded upward on the ground-level cottage, adding a main floor and bedroom/bath and balcony on a second level. It reminded me a lot of the house we had for two decades in New Hampshire. Our house looked out on a mountain valley; theirs looks out on a lake. Three of their four children live, with their own children, within driving distance and use this house as a summer and weekend retreat. One lives far way, in Chile, and I feel her longing to be a part of this family life even as she enjoys the enrichment and challenge of living in another culture.
We had two late afternoon tours of the lake via pontoon boat--unbelievably peaceful, though I have a feeling that would not have been the case three weeks ago. We also were driven all around the small farming communities of Holton and Brunswick, and the larger city of Fremont. Farming has been an integral part of the area for generations and it continues to be so, but with changes. In Fremont we saw the destination for much of the produce we had driven past in the fields: Gerber Baby Foods, now owned by Nestlé, but still a huge concern in the city.
Several of the farms in the area are owned and operated by Amish people, who have been moving into the area in large numbers in recent years, according to my host, the head of the local historic association. We made a scouting expedition one day, and then the next day went back to make purchases at the Amish Whispering Pines Country Store, a fantastic natural and bulk foods emporium, where we paid by out-of-state check (no credit cards accepted, no ID required).
Sunday, September 4, 2016
Where Did the Summer Go?
Well, it's been more than a month of Sundays since I last posted on Sundays in Cincinnati--it's been very close to two months. Not that there hasn't been anything to say. In fact, there's been too much. I am much busier here, and have a fuller life, than I did back in Spain, when I started the predecessor to this blog and wrote faithfully almost every Sunday.
So where, on this last Sunday before Labor Day, has the summer gone?
Two trips to Orlando. The first at the end of June for the American Library Association annual conference, where I also was able to begin helping my 92-year-old aunt prepare for moving into the assisted living facility in the community she has lived happily in independently for ten years, and for which she was now on a waiting list. That trip also occassioned an emotional visit to the site of the Pulse massacre, just a week after it happened. ALA had observed the tragedy with a moving service on the opening day of the conference, at which Congressman John Lewis' appeared.
The second trip to Orlando was just this past week, when I joined my sister Nancy to help with the actual move to assisted living. Again a very emotional time, as our remaining blood relative from that generation faced this loss of independence. We managed the details and left her in a stable and trusted environment, and she has recovered her native optimism and forward-thinking stance and is well on the way to making new friends as long as still seeing her old bridge friends. An unexpected benefit for me was the hospitality of one of Nancy's friends from high school, who provided a glass of wine each evening in a beautiful environment, a change of pace and concerns, and many fun moments as we recalled days from the past and learned what we had done in the almost 50 years since I had last seen her.
Volunteer efforts. I had made a commitment at the beginning of the summer to work two mornings each week at Catholic Charities to help in their efforts at resettling refugees in Cincinnati. I honored that up until the final weeks when schedule intervened. I also made a few trips to a different agency, Heartfelt Tidbits, which also teaches English to Nepalis from Bhutan, some of whom have spent 20 years in a refugee camp before being admitted to the USA. I have learned a lot about the resources available for teaching English as an additional language and about the hurdles that these people go through to gain a better life. No one chooses this path on a frivolous whim; in fact, they have little choice in which of the many countries throughout the wold they are sent to at all.
Lately Johannes and I have been out registering voters for the upcoming (but not soon enough!) election. We have concentrated on identifying Latinos who are US citizens and might not otherwise have voted before. We've learned a lot about the political process. I expect that effort will shift to getting people to the polls as we get to election day.
I was also one of about 300 volunteers at the International Federation of Library Associations' World Library and Information Congress in August, held this year in Columbus, Ohio, just up the road a piece. IFLA is always interesting and provides the opportunity to meet people from many countries of the world--this year 145. I was stationed in the expo hall for two days and learned about The History Connection, formerly the Ohio Historical Society, and how the city of Columbus came to be the capital of the state. My third volunteer stint was in the main hall on the last formal day of the conference in the Internet area, where I spoke with lots and lots of delegates and learned that many US Internet service providers--and especially the one supplying the Columbus convention center--routinely block emails sent to many African nations.
Other fun stuff. I attended several OLLI single session lectures on areas of Cincinnati history and culture (theater, publishing, Prohibition, philanthropy). I had lunch or brunch with a couple new friends from my Unitarian-Universalist congregation. I went to two new musical events, and in addition to enjoying the music, experienced two lovely family estates now reformed as foundations. I met with the Scandinavian Scribblers and the Readers, and my other book group and a women's group, and my regular Sisters (my own) gathering once a month. And on the work front, I weathered the demise of my tasks related to publication on an old platform and recreated a life as customer service rep on the new platform.
Today is sunny and clear and cooler than it has been in this otherwise hot and humid summer--much hotter and more humid than last year, at leaf as I remember it. Tomorrow is Labor Day, and it feels like fall is coming. I wore my all-white pants and top outfit to church this morning, with the white shoes that I laugh about not wearing after Labor Day. I think we still have many more warn days ahead, but there is something about that change in the calendar that says we are moving along to colder weather.
There is one thing I had really wanted to do this summer that I didn't: I didn't ask the Cincinnati Parks department to build a petanca court. Maybe next year.
So where, on this last Sunday before Labor Day, has the summer gone?
Two trips to Orlando. The first at the end of June for the American Library Association annual conference, where I also was able to begin helping my 92-year-old aunt prepare for moving into the assisted living facility in the community she has lived happily in independently for ten years, and for which she was now on a waiting list. That trip also occassioned an emotional visit to the site of the Pulse massacre, just a week after it happened. ALA had observed the tragedy with a moving service on the opening day of the conference, at which Congressman John Lewis' appeared.
The second trip to Orlando was just this past week, when I joined my sister Nancy to help with the actual move to assisted living. Again a very emotional time, as our remaining blood relative from that generation faced this loss of independence. We managed the details and left her in a stable and trusted environment, and she has recovered her native optimism and forward-thinking stance and is well on the way to making new friends as long as still seeing her old bridge friends. An unexpected benefit for me was the hospitality of one of Nancy's friends from high school, who provided a glass of wine each evening in a beautiful environment, a change of pace and concerns, and many fun moments as we recalled days from the past and learned what we had done in the almost 50 years since I had last seen her.
Volunteer efforts. I had made a commitment at the beginning of the summer to work two mornings each week at Catholic Charities to help in their efforts at resettling refugees in Cincinnati. I honored that up until the final weeks when schedule intervened. I also made a few trips to a different agency, Heartfelt Tidbits, which also teaches English to Nepalis from Bhutan, some of whom have spent 20 years in a refugee camp before being admitted to the USA. I have learned a lot about the resources available for teaching English as an additional language and about the hurdles that these people go through to gain a better life. No one chooses this path on a frivolous whim; in fact, they have little choice in which of the many countries throughout the wold they are sent to at all.
Lately Johannes and I have been out registering voters for the upcoming (but not soon enough!) election. We have concentrated on identifying Latinos who are US citizens and might not otherwise have voted before. We've learned a lot about the political process. I expect that effort will shift to getting people to the polls as we get to election day.
I was also one of about 300 volunteers at the International Federation of Library Associations' World Library and Information Congress in August, held this year in Columbus, Ohio, just up the road a piece. IFLA is always interesting and provides the opportunity to meet people from many countries of the world--this year 145. I was stationed in the expo hall for two days and learned about The History Connection, formerly the Ohio Historical Society, and how the city of Columbus came to be the capital of the state. My third volunteer stint was in the main hall on the last formal day of the conference in the Internet area, where I spoke with lots and lots of delegates and learned that many US Internet service providers--and especially the one supplying the Columbus convention center--routinely block emails sent to many African nations.
Other fun stuff. I attended several OLLI single session lectures on areas of Cincinnati history and culture (theater, publishing, Prohibition, philanthropy). I had lunch or brunch with a couple new friends from my Unitarian-Universalist congregation. I went to two new musical events, and in addition to enjoying the music, experienced two lovely family estates now reformed as foundations. I met with the Scandinavian Scribblers and the Readers, and my other book group and a women's group, and my regular Sisters (my own) gathering once a month. And on the work front, I weathered the demise of my tasks related to publication on an old platform and recreated a life as customer service rep on the new platform.
Today is sunny and clear and cooler than it has been in this otherwise hot and humid summer--much hotter and more humid than last year, at leaf as I remember it. Tomorrow is Labor Day, and it feels like fall is coming. I wore my all-white pants and top outfit to church this morning, with the white shoes that I laugh about not wearing after Labor Day. I think we still have many more warn days ahead, but there is something about that change in the calendar that says we are moving along to colder weather.
There is one thing I had really wanted to do this summer that I didn't: I didn't ask the Cincinnati Parks department to build a petanca court. Maybe next year.
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Maintaining Control
It's been anything but a quiet week in Lake Wobegon since Garrison Keillor left us out on the Prairie for the last time this past week. Two sudden, vicious, and senseless murders of individuals going peacefully about their business, targeted for no defensible reason by people who have been entrusted with the responsibility of helping preserve the peace. The subsequent retaliation murder of five other individuals actively engaged in protecting people's right to peaceably assemble to petition redress of grievances. The resulting shock level throughout the country seemed greater with this accumulation of killing than it has for months, even years, though heaven knows that killings of this nature are no strange event to life in these United States. Churches and caring communities have come together to mourn and try to hope, social media is flooded with reactions and admonitions, and even the broadcast media is still devoting full time to video replays and analysis, since nothing else has yet taken place to fill up the airwaves.
And yet, we keep on keeping on. We have to, perhaps, in order to maintain some control over lives that we fool ourselves into thinking that we have some control over. This week I did a positive thing by meeting with my family members to jointly sign and validate State of Ohio Advance Directives: the Health Care Power of Attorney and the Living Will Declaration. A task that we have been meaning to do for months, and for which we have all, by this stage of our lives, received several reminders in the form of sad and tragic brushes with death and ending of life of various family and friends. We are so lucky that all in our family have similar ideas about how to approach end of life decisions in the event of diagnosed terminal conditions or sudden catastrophe, so it was not too hard to select the agents who will have control over my medical treatment if I myself have lost control.
Two days this week my plans for the day were disrupted by unexpected events, other than those in the national news. On Friday I had scheduled a luncheon meeting with a friend, and I was really looking forward to seeing her and going to this particular restaurant. But the day before, the oil light had come on in my car, or so I thought, and when my favorite mechanic told me that the oil repository was full and the light was a "check the engine" light and that we should go to the dealer immediately, we did. So that luncheon engagement was cancelled. I found out in due course that the engine light signified only that I needed a new gas cap. The visit to the dealer solved that problem and allowed the opportunity to get the factory recall airbag replaced, a potentially dangerous situation that I had been neglecting for no good reason.
The other day with unexpected events was the day I had been scheduled to observe English language classes at a refugee center. In this case, I still showed up at the center, but there was a surprise celebration of Eid, the end of Ramadan. We had an unexpected free and interesting lunch, but there were only a few minutes available for observing classes. It was extraordinary and humbling to meet several refugees one-on-one, who each introduced themselves, saying "My name is ... " [something I could not repeat, nor distinguish first name from surname], "I am from ... " [a far-away country I have never been to, most Bhutan, some Gambia, one Syria], and "I have been in the United States for ... " [a ridiculously short period of time, ranging from five days to two months]. The composure of the individuals I met was astounding for someone who had been uprooted from their own country, living in a refugee camp for years, and then suddenly dropped into a mid-sized Midwestern U.S. city.
Since we were there, with a car, we were asked to take two clients to an appointment they had at a health clinic. Although we have been here for two years, we did not recognize the name of the health clinic, nor have any idea of how to get there. And though we were introduced to the young man and young woman who we were to transport, we could not communicate with them beyond hand signals and "thank you." It was a long 20-minute drive down Reading Road and into the university health center area, with only the mechanical voice of the GPS lady to tell us where to go. I sat and enjoyed the feeling of having some recognition of the area we were driving in, though I never could have found it myself and would not have been comfortable driving alone. And I marveled at the trust of our passengers who had willingly and politely allowed themselves to be deposited in the automobile of a couple they had never seen before, to go to a place they presumably did not know how to get to, when I am uneasy about getting into a taxi cab alone in a city I do not know. I think they must have learned something about the illusion of control and real control from their experiences. They certainly had learned something about grace.
We all want to control the big things like where we live, and for how long, and under what conditions, and we can make plans for some eventualities. But war, or hate, God, or fate--life--can intervene at a moment's notice, and the unexpected will happen. The only control we have is the way we meet it. Each day. Each minute.
And yet, we keep on keeping on. We have to, perhaps, in order to maintain some control over lives that we fool ourselves into thinking that we have some control over. This week I did a positive thing by meeting with my family members to jointly sign and validate State of Ohio Advance Directives: the Health Care Power of Attorney and the Living Will Declaration. A task that we have been meaning to do for months, and for which we have all, by this stage of our lives, received several reminders in the form of sad and tragic brushes with death and ending of life of various family and friends. We are so lucky that all in our family have similar ideas about how to approach end of life decisions in the event of diagnosed terminal conditions or sudden catastrophe, so it was not too hard to select the agents who will have control over my medical treatment if I myself have lost control.
Two days this week my plans for the day were disrupted by unexpected events, other than those in the national news. On Friday I had scheduled a luncheon meeting with a friend, and I was really looking forward to seeing her and going to this particular restaurant. But the day before, the oil light had come on in my car, or so I thought, and when my favorite mechanic told me that the oil repository was full and the light was a "check the engine" light and that we should go to the dealer immediately, we did. So that luncheon engagement was cancelled. I found out in due course that the engine light signified only that I needed a new gas cap. The visit to the dealer solved that problem and allowed the opportunity to get the factory recall airbag replaced, a potentially dangerous situation that I had been neglecting for no good reason.
The other day with unexpected events was the day I had been scheduled to observe English language classes at a refugee center. In this case, I still showed up at the center, but there was a surprise celebration of Eid, the end of Ramadan. We had an unexpected free and interesting lunch, but there were only a few minutes available for observing classes. It was extraordinary and humbling to meet several refugees one-on-one, who each introduced themselves, saying "My name is ... " [something I could not repeat, nor distinguish first name from surname], "I am from ... " [a far-away country I have never been to, most Bhutan, some Gambia, one Syria], and "I have been in the United States for ... " [a ridiculously short period of time, ranging from five days to two months]. The composure of the individuals I met was astounding for someone who had been uprooted from their own country, living in a refugee camp for years, and then suddenly dropped into a mid-sized Midwestern U.S. city.
Since we were there, with a car, we were asked to take two clients to an appointment they had at a health clinic. Although we have been here for two years, we did not recognize the name of the health clinic, nor have any idea of how to get there. And though we were introduced to the young man and young woman who we were to transport, we could not communicate with them beyond hand signals and "thank you." It was a long 20-minute drive down Reading Road and into the university health center area, with only the mechanical voice of the GPS lady to tell us where to go. I sat and enjoyed the feeling of having some recognition of the area we were driving in, though I never could have found it myself and would not have been comfortable driving alone. And I marveled at the trust of our passengers who had willingly and politely allowed themselves to be deposited in the automobile of a couple they had never seen before, to go to a place they presumably did not know how to get to, when I am uneasy about getting into a taxi cab alone in a city I do not know. I think they must have learned something about the illusion of control and real control from their experiences. They certainly had learned something about grace.
We all want to control the big things like where we live, and for how long, and under what conditions, and we can make plans for some eventualities. But war, or hate, God, or fate--life--can intervene at a moment's notice, and the unexpected will happen. The only control we have is the way we meet it. Each day. Each minute.
Monday, July 4, 2016
Fourth of July
Independence Day dawned dark and rainy today in Cincinnati and the weather did not improve dramatically throughout the day. But the rain did stop in time for us to drive to a pleasant outing with friends, thankfully held indoors. We had a delicious luncheon with traditional and new foods: shrimp kebabs, baked beans, dill and lemon potato salad, and romaine. Great conversation, deepening friendships with acquaintances made in the last year, and meeting new people.
Before we left for lunch, I located the Declaration of Independence and re-read it on this, its 240th birthday. You can, too. Here it is from the National Archives. It's a good reminder of the purpose of government and the goals to which we say we aspire. Not to mention the long list of transgressions which caused our split from Great Britain in the first place. Contrary to opinion from some folk, we are nowhere near that level of treachery at this point in our history.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Declaration of Independence: A Transcription
IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.
The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,
When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.
In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.
We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.
The 56 signatures on the Declaration appear in the positions indicated:
Column 1
Georgia:
Button Gwinnett
Lyman Hall
George Walton
Column 2
North Carolina:
William Hooper
Joseph Hewes
John Penn
South Carolina:
Edward Rutledge
Thomas Heyward, Jr.
Thomas Lynch, Jr.
Arthur Middleton
Column 3
Massachusetts:
John Hancock
Maryland:
Samuel Chase
William Paca
Thomas Stone
Charles Carroll of Carrollton
Virginia:
George Wythe
Richard Henry Lee
Thomas Jefferson
Benjamin Harrison
Thomas Nelson, Jr.
Francis Lightfoot Lee
Carter Braxton
Column 4
Pennsylvania:
Robert Morris
Benjamin Rush
Benjamin Franklin
John Morton
George Clymer
James Smith
George Taylor
James Wilson
George Ross
Delaware:
Caesar Rodney
George Read
Thomas McKean
Column 5
New York:
William Floyd
Philip Livingston
Francis Lewis
Lewis Morris
New Jersey:
Richard Stockton
John Witherspoon
Francis Hopkinson
John Hart
Abraham Clark
Column 6
New Hampshire:
Josiah Bartlett
William Whipple
Massachusetts:
Samuel Adams
John Adams
Robert Treat Paine
Elbridge Gerry
Rhode Island:
Stephen Hopkins
William Ellery
Connecticut:
Roger Sherman
Samuel Huntington
William Williams
Oliver Wolcott
New Hampshire:
Matthew Thornton
Page URL: http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration_transcript.html
U.S. National Archives & Records Administration
8601 Adelphi Road, College Park, MD, 20740-6001, • 1-86-NARA-NARA • 1-866-272-6272
Before we left for lunch, I located the Declaration of Independence and re-read it on this, its 240th birthday. You can, too. Here it is from the National Archives. It's a good reminder of the purpose of government and the goals to which we say we aspire. Not to mention the long list of transgressions which caused our split from Great Britain in the first place. Contrary to opinion from some folk, we are nowhere near that level of treachery at this point in our history.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Declaration of Independence: A Transcription
IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.
The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,
When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.
In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.
We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.
The 56 signatures on the Declaration appear in the positions indicated:
Column 1
Georgia:
Button Gwinnett
Lyman Hall
George Walton
Column 2
North Carolina:
William Hooper
Joseph Hewes
John Penn
South Carolina:
Edward Rutledge
Thomas Heyward, Jr.
Thomas Lynch, Jr.
Arthur Middleton
Column 3
Massachusetts:
John Hancock
Maryland:
Samuel Chase
William Paca
Thomas Stone
Charles Carroll of Carrollton
Virginia:
George Wythe
Richard Henry Lee
Thomas Jefferson
Benjamin Harrison
Thomas Nelson, Jr.
Francis Lightfoot Lee
Carter Braxton
Column 4
Pennsylvania:
Robert Morris
Benjamin Rush
Benjamin Franklin
John Morton
George Clymer
James Smith
George Taylor
James Wilson
George Ross
Delaware:
Caesar Rodney
George Read
Thomas McKean
Column 5
New York:
William Floyd
Philip Livingston
Francis Lewis
Lewis Morris
New Jersey:
Richard Stockton
John Witherspoon
Francis Hopkinson
John Hart
Abraham Clark
Column 6
New Hampshire:
Josiah Bartlett
William Whipple
Massachusetts:
Samuel Adams
John Adams
Robert Treat Paine
Elbridge Gerry
Rhode Island:
Stephen Hopkins
William Ellery
Connecticut:
Roger Sherman
Samuel Huntington
William Williams
Oliver Wolcott
New Hampshire:
Matthew Thornton
Page URL: http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration_transcript.html
U.S. National Archives & Records Administration
8601 Adelphi Road, College Park, MD, 20740-6001, • 1-86-NARA-NARA • 1-866-272-6272
Monday, June 20, 2016
Faces of Cincinnati
This has been a week spent largely beyond our dwelling place in the city of Springdale in north Cincinnati. In spite of our location adjoining a somewhat dated Latino shopping center, with an Hispanic and a Halal grocery store, and a Mexican restaurant, the feel of our neighborhood, and our experience, is distinctly white suburban. This week brought us welcome interchanges with the world beyond.
On Wednesday we went to Saint Francis de Sales parish on Madison Road near downtown Cincinnati, to participate with others from The Gathering at Northern Hills in preparing and serving a hot lunch to elementary school students who are members of the UpSpring of Cincinnati summer camp enrichment program for homeless children. I am not used to cooking in quantities of 100s, so it's a good thing that I was not in charge of the menu and planning. But I did enjoy chopping more onions that I every had before in a single stretch for sloppy goes, stirring one of six pots of the mixture, and then preparing the plates for the sloppy joes, cole slaw, and tortilla chips. It had been busy with adults in the kitchen from 10-12, but when the kids came into the dining area after their morning activities, the activity level skyrocketed, as did the decibel level. I went out to check some of the kids in the dining room later in case they wanted seconds, and it was hard hearing above the roar of the crown, even though any child that wanted individual attention from adults stood patiently with hand raised in air to attract attention from one of the teachers or volunteers. We heard details about the work of UpSpring, which sadly has increased the number of people it serves during the summer months in the seven years that this congregation has been performing this service. Shockingly more than half of all children living in Greater Cincinnati live below the poverty line.
Friday morning I made a quick stop at the Northminster Presbyterian Church in Finneytown, catching a group of adult refugees at the tail end of their weekly English and citizenship classes, sponsored by Heartfelt Tidbits, a relatively new local non-profit organization that concentrates its efforts on refugee resettlement. I spoke with the executive director, and I am hoping to start some tutoring of adults in this program in the upcoming summer weeks.
Saturday was World Refugee Day, and Catholic Charities Southwestern Ohio had planned a festive event for the refugee families it serves. My volunteer efforts there included the making and sharing of a Vietnamese chicken-cabbage salad and a late pot of South African yellow spiced rice--both these in more customary sized quantities, for a couple families. There were lots of volunteers and lots of other food offerings, too, and some beautiful music and dancing. The large majority of the refugees to Cincinnati now are from Bhutan., but several African and Asian regions are represented. One of the unique experiences I had Saturday as I helped staff the soft drinks table was to hear the Nepali national song and see it interpreted in a graceful dance.
 |
| Impromptu dancing with men and women at World Refugee Day. |
 |
| A very young attendee at World Refugee Day. |
Friday morning I made a quick stop at the Northminster Presbyterian Church in Finneytown, catching a group of adult refugees at the tail end of their weekly English and citizenship classes, sponsored by Heartfelt Tidbits, a relatively new local non-profit organization that concentrates its efforts on refugee resettlement. I spoke with the executive director, and I am hoping to start some tutoring of adults in this program in the upcoming summer weeks.
Saturday was World Refugee Day, and Catholic Charities Southwestern Ohio had planned a festive event for the refugee families it serves. My volunteer efforts there included the making and sharing of a Vietnamese chicken-cabbage salad and a late pot of South African yellow spiced rice--both these in more customary sized quantities, for a couple families. There were lots of volunteers and lots of other food offerings, too, and some beautiful music and dancing. The large majority of the refugees to Cincinnati now are from Bhutan., but several African and Asian regions are represented. One of the unique experiences I had Saturday as I helped staff the soft drinks table was to hear the Nepali national song and see it interpreted in a graceful dance.
 |
| So much joy and grace in this dance! Smiling faces all around! |
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Danish Connections
Since my sister-in-law arrived from Argentina a month ago, I have been speaking Danish at least half the day. Carmen claims not to speak English (though she manages several words from time to time in social situations, especially those involving shopping, ice cream, and one-on-one with family and close friends). She has been a resident of Argentina since the age of 14, when she emigrated with her parents and her brother (my husband) from Denmark. Theoretically we could speak Spanish together, but her first language and my second is Danish, and that is the language in which we talk best about the little things and the big things.
So busy we have been, talking about past memories and current concerns, that the Nordic dinner at the White House on Friday, May 13 passed by us without notice. It also passed by the U.S. media outlets that we watch without notice. But then there was Facebook and postings from Danish friends to alert me to the speeches made at the state dinner. And later there was email to actually send along the links to listen to the speeches from President Obama, the prime minister of Iceland, and the prime minister of Denmark.
If you read the transcript of the toasts made that evening, you may wonder, as I did, whether there had been a few toasts before we got to Mr. Obama's remarks, and to Mr. Jóhannsson's, and to Mr. Rasmussen's. There were a lot of jokes, but what interested me primarily were two paragraphs from our president's talk.
He spoke of N.F.S. Grundtvig, a Danish pastor and educator, who was a 19th-century proponent of of the Danish folk high school movement. These folk schools were attended by some youths, but mainly working adults, and provided education on many practical and cultural topics. I knew that the the folk high school idea had achieved some international recognition, but I did not know that there had been a school inspired by the folk high school movement in the U.S., in Tennessee--hardly a bastion of Nordic influence. But the Highlander Folk School in Grundy County, Tennessee traces its roots to Grundtvig, and the Highlander Folk School has played an important part in the civil rights movement in the United States. The Highlander school provided a place, in the segregated south, for blacks and whites to meet together to learn how to resist racism. Rosa Parks attended a 1955 workshop at Highlander four months before refusing to give up her bus seat; Ralph Abernathy and John Lewis were trained there, and Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke at the Highlander's 25th anniversary celebration in 1957. According to a history of Highlander written for children, the song "We Shall Overcome" became a symbol of the civil rights movement at the Highlander School.
Shortly thereafter, the Highlander Folk School was accused of being Communist and was closed down by the state of Tennessee. The ideas engendered there survived. Grundtvig knew that knowledge was the best tool to fight for freedom, and so did the people who moved through the Highlander Folk School.
So busy we have been, talking about past memories and current concerns, that the Nordic dinner at the White House on Friday, May 13 passed by us without notice. It also passed by the U.S. media outlets that we watch without notice. But then there was Facebook and postings from Danish friends to alert me to the speeches made at the state dinner. And later there was email to actually send along the links to listen to the speeches from President Obama, the prime minister of Iceland, and the prime minister of Denmark.
If you read the transcript of the toasts made that evening, you may wonder, as I did, whether there had been a few toasts before we got to Mr. Obama's remarks, and to Mr. Jóhannsson's, and to Mr. Rasmussen's. There were a lot of jokes, but what interested me primarily were two paragraphs from our president's talk.
He spoke of N.F.S. Grundtvig, a Danish pastor and educator, who was a 19th-century proponent of of the Danish folk high school movement. These folk schools were attended by some youths, but mainly working adults, and provided education on many practical and cultural topics. I knew that the the folk high school idea had achieved some international recognition, but I did not know that there had been a school inspired by the folk high school movement in the U.S., in Tennessee--hardly a bastion of Nordic influence. But the Highlander Folk School in Grundy County, Tennessee traces its roots to Grundtvig, and the Highlander Folk School has played an important part in the civil rights movement in the United States. The Highlander school provided a place, in the segregated south, for blacks and whites to meet together to learn how to resist racism. Rosa Parks attended a 1955 workshop at Highlander four months before refusing to give up her bus seat; Ralph Abernathy and John Lewis were trained there, and Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke at the Highlander's 25th anniversary celebration in 1957. According to a history of Highlander written for children, the song "We Shall Overcome" became a symbol of the civil rights movement at the Highlander School.
Shortly thereafter, the Highlander Folk School was accused of being Communist and was closed down by the state of Tennessee. The ideas engendered there survived. Grundtvig knew that knowledge was the best tool to fight for freedom, and so did the people who moved through the Highlander Folk School.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Department Store Shopping Then and Now
When I was a child in the 1950s, shopping was limited in the
small town in which I lived, but there were usually four or five trips a year
to Columbus or Cincinnati to go to the dentist and to buy new school clothing.
The dental excursions invariably took place on Easter Monday, which comprised
our spring vacation, and then once again
before school started in the fall. The fall trip also was the major “new school
year” outing. These went to Columbus, a two-hour drive from our home in Sidney,
over country roads. A special trip once or twice a year took us to Cincinnati,
also a two-hour car ride, but with patches of interstate; this trip combined a
visit to a family friend, the college roommate of my maternal grandmother. In
between the longer trips to Columbus and Cincinnati, we would drive forty miles
to Dayton for any shopping needs that we could not fill in Sidney.
Our destination shopping target was not a big-box, one-level,
suburban Target department store (the one with a capital T): it was a real multi-level,
downtown Department Store (one with a capital D for Department): Lazarus, Shillito’s, or Rike’s. All three of
these stores are gone now, and my mind does not make much of a distinction
between the three , but walking into any one of them was walking into a special
world for the day, with more luxury than I had ever experienced in my young life.
They had escalators to take you from one floor to another,
and there were six or more stories, and even something called a mezzanine. For
one of them, you parked and entered in a lower floor and took the escalator “Up
to the Basement.” If there was time, we would take the elevator all the way to
the top of the store and take the escalators down through each floor, briefly
seeing the extent of the offerings. We did not need all the various departments
on the several floors; since we were only four girls we could bypass the boys’
and men’s departments easily—but we did span the children’s, teens, and
occasionally the women’s clothing departments. And shoes, although we had a
decent shoe store in Sidney and found it much more fun to buy shoes there,
where we could look through a machine and see whether our feet bones fit nicely
into the shoe or were crowded.
I always looked forward to the reward after the
clothes-buying was done: the book department, for there was no bookstore in
Sidney. I was always allowed to buy the next book in the series that I
currently was reading. I went through The Happy Hollisters; Vicki Barr, Flight
Stewardess; and Cherry Ames
in all her nursing adventures. Notable throughout the stores was the level of
service: there was always a person to help you find what you were looking for,
whether it was to search to see if the right book was stacked under the counter,
or to check on you in the dressing room and run out to get the same thing in a
different size or color so you didn’t
have to get dressed and do it yourself.
The very special event, however, was lunch in the department
store dining room. I remember the carpeted dining rooms at Rike’s and
Lazarus—when we came to Cincinnati we usually had lunch instead with the lawyer
husband of Nana’s friend at The
Cincinnati Club. The Cincinnati Club was very fancy, almost uncomfortably
so for young girls, and there was entertainment in the dining rooms at Rike’s
and Lazarus. There were fashion shows! Women would come into the dining room
and parade between the tables wearing the newest styles, and either a
loudspeaker or the individual models themselves would tell you about what they
were wearing as they swirled their skirts or opened their jackets to reveal the
matching blouse or sweater underneath. My sisters and I enjoyed watching the
models while we waited for our chicken a-la-king in the white ceramic covered
chicken dish to be brought to the table. And then after the main course we had
to make decisions about dessert—an extra special treat since we did not usually
have desserts at our house. Nancy usually had a “snow ball”—a scoop of vanilla
ice cream encased in coconut, but I almost always opted for the Baked Alaska
pie—peppermint ice cream on graham
cracker crust, with a meringue top with chocolate sauce.
After lunch we probably still had a few items to search for,
but our last stop was invariably Will Call, the department on the parking level
where all our purchases from throughout the day had been collected for us so we
did not have to carry them around ourselves. We would get in the car, present
the receipts which entitled us to free parking for the day, and drive home.
~~~~~~~~~~
We have been doing a lot of shopping with my sister-in-law
over the past ten days. We have gone to several places that call themselves
department stores—Meijer, Kohl’s, Sears, and Macy’s—but none of them can be
considered a big “D” Department Store from the old days. They all have multiple
departments, and Kohl’s is even on two levels, and Macy’s (at Tri-County) four,
but none has the broad selection of the old department stores, and certainly
not the style.
Service is noticeably absent; you can look all over for a
checkout counter at Sears and Macy’s, and checking out is just about all you
can do there. Knowledge of the product does not reside in the head of any sales
attendant—whatever knowledge exists is what is printed on the package, which is
why we bought underwear from two stores and then returned underwear to two
stores when we could not figure out the proper sizing. The only real help from
a sales associate came in the intimates department at Macy’s, who did a quick
measure above, below, and across (the ladies will know what I am talking about
here) before going into the fitting
room, then brought the one garment that fit the requirements, and left us on
our own. I moved in and out of the fitting room to change sizes for the
customer and then expand the purchases to nightwear. Then when we were ready to
drop a couple hundred dollars at the checkout desk, we still had to wait for
more than ten minutes for attention. They didn’t have the six undergarments we
wanted and had to order them to be sent to the house—and that process took at
least 10 more minutes.
There is, of course, no quiet, refined, carpeted dining room
at the Macy’s in Tri-County. Outside of the store and far down the mall walk
there is a food court with at least ten “restaurants” – all with uninspiring
choices, all self-service, and all sharing tables in a crowded, noisy, messy
hall.
The only advantage that the shopping experience of the 21st
century has over the shopping experience of the mid-20th century that I can see
is the transportation: virtually every big-box store offers scooters for
sitting and navigating around the warehouse-like interior; so does the mall,
and even Kohl’s offers rolling shopping carts for those who want support to
lean on while they search out, select, and collect their purchases.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Celebrating Phil Henry
I spent this afternoon with many others celebrating the life of my dear brother-in-law Phil Henry, who died March 14 of weak kidneys and a strong will. He asked me to read these words at his memorial service, and I was honored to comply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As
I write this, I'm 80 years old and know that the pages of my life's book have
mostly been written….and when you hear these words, the last page will
have been written.
To
my family and friends present today, I say "hello" and "goodbye." I'm sure the irony does not escape you.
First,
thank you for being my friends; thank you for being my family. Each of you has played an important part in
the mosaic of my life.
There
are others who have already died; many who have been very important to me. A double posthumous thanks to:
Debbie,
Big
T and Pat,
Rich,
Lee,
Pete,
my
sister Marlee,
and
so many others who enriched my life.
I'd
like to share with you a few of my feelings about life and death.
Richard Feynman, arguably one of the greatest theoretical physicists of the 20th
century, said on his deathbed,
"We
are lost in this mysterious universe that has no purpose, which is the way it
really is as far as I can tell. It
doesn't frighten me."
This
thought has always resonated with me.
My
life has been mostly rewarding, and I want you to know that the main reason for
that is my wife Nancy. She has shared
with me most all of the wonderful texture of living. She has been the love of my life.
I
have been fortunate:
I
have loved and been loved.
I
have experienced victory and defeat.
I
have marveled at the natural world.
I
have traveled to exotic places on our earth and have had a glimpse of other
cultures.
I
have lived through different time periods--I call it time travel--and if you
think that the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s weren't a different world from the
21st century, think again.
I've
said goodbye to all those things now. I
have no illusion about going to "a better (or worse) place."
I
feel lucky to have been able to appreciate on earth the things that, for me,
create the proverbial heaven:
A
good laugh
The
changing seasons
Good
music
Nature
in all her aspects
Companionship
and love
Curiosity
A
fine meal.
All
who have known me are aware that I think music is transformational. . .
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