A Happy Birthday

Tomorrow is my birthday. I was going to try to write something profound about it but I think it's all been said. I love this little poem called "A Happy Birthday" so I thought I'd share it. I know I will have a happy birthday because I will celebrate with the people I love.

by Ted Kooser

This evening, I sat by an open window
and read until the light was gone

and the book was no more

than a part of the darkness.
I could easily have switched on a lamp,
but I wanted to ride this day down into night,
to sit alone and smooth the unreadable page
with the pale gray ghost of my hand.

More Haiku!

I always wanted
a circular drive to let
people in - or out.

Some scars are unseen
demons of iniquity
embedded with tears.

Many years gone by
I believe much more in that
which I cannot see.

Deer huddle in snow
silhouetted in stark white
just head and ears show.

She

It starts at eleven,
stripped to the world,
eyes unveiled, set to please.
She is just beginning to feel herself
be something else nice and polite,
a shape shifter in her own skin.
A vacancy at the core
of only what a girl can know.

When fate offers its hand
she grabs on and goes for the ride
in a garden with nothing blooming.
Diminished in the mirror,
acid rain on her face,
scraping skin on the way to
a doubt only a woman knows.

She listens to the songs boiling
and bubbling out of her throat,
reaching out an imperfect arm,
pushed back in private,
melted down in public.
She must be cheerful
as only a woman can be.

Now she's driving her pink car
with a dozen tattooes.
Her primal scream brings relief
from the Kristallnacht in her chest.
She can't be enough of a daughter,
wife, friend, mother, lover.
Enough of all a woman must be.

Painting by Norman Rockwell

Imagine

Today we begin in earnest the work of making sure that the world we leave our children is just a little better than the one we inhabit today. Barack Obama

To All Blogoholics

For centuries, writer have experimented with forms that evoke the imperfection of thought, the inconstancy of human affairs, and the chastening passage of time. But as blogging evolves as a literary form, it is generating a new and quintessentially postmodern idiom that's enabling writers to express themselves in ways that have never been seen or understood before. Its truths are provisional, and its ethos collective and messy. Yet the interaction it enables between writer and reader is unprecedented, visceral, and sometimes brutal. And make no mistake: it heralds a golden era for journalism.

Andrew Sullivan

The Atlantic November 2008

Coexist XVI - A Class on Two Faiths

I found this today in my local newspaper:

Congregation Kol Chadash and Pioneer Memorial Presbyterian Church are offering a joint adult education class, "Jews and Christians: Enhancing our Understanding of Each Other's Beliefs and Practices."

The Class will explore issues such as sin, afterlife, faith, prayer and obligation to improve the world from both faith traditions and ways to work together to strengthen the community.

Our Freedom of Speech

I've listened to President Obama's inaugural address twice. I'm no expert in speeches or politics but my feeling was that he didn't pull any punches - he told it like it is and he said what he wanted to say. Of course, a president or any leader should have the confidence to do just that.

On the way home from work today the radio program was recounting how other world leaders reacted yesterday to our new president and what he had to say. In China Obama's speech was censored when he referenced communism and again when he spoke of those countries that use force to get what they want. I found myself trying to imagine censorship like that in our country - a freedom we so often take for granted.

Last week on Ruth's recommendation I watched a movie called "The Lives of Others". It was set in East Germany in 1984 - not that long ago. The movie was about a writer and his actress girlfriend who were under constant surveillance by the state police for their suspicious creative expressions. Wow. I think that sort of government would lead all of us bloggers to jail eventually.

So today I honor our freedom of speech - the right for a new president to tell the world exactly what he wants to say - the right for clergy to pray exactly what they wanted to pray - the right we all have everyday but rarely recognize. Above is part of Norman Rockwell's "Four Freedoms" - the Freedom of Speech.

Hope and Sizzle

Today is Inauguration Day for Barack Obama. I fancy myself a wordsmith but I was not going to write anything today because what can I say about this national event? This day that has brought "hope and sizzle" to America? I heard that phrase on NPR - so I can't take credit for it, but boy does it describe this day. Only once in my life have I felt a collective patriotism and that was of course after September 11th when every house had a flag flying.

But today, for the first time in my life, I feel a collective HOPE. It's a beautiful feeling. Today all the televisions in the school were on, the children were learning, the teachers we were proud. I have never experienced a school day such as this one. As adults we feel hope for our children and their children today.

Obama is a great orator. He has the gift of inspiring others. This alone will not make him a great president, but it will go a long way in uniting this country, which will in turn bring greatness to our country once again. In his inauguration speech he said that America's greatness is not a given - it is earned.

Obama referenced I Corinthians 13:11-12 When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like a child. When I became a man I put away childish things. I think he was telling us to put away the past and move forward and that he is able and willing to do that as well.

Well, I have nothing more - just hope and sizzle - God bless America.

Oh, Yes He Did

"I learned to step back and forth between my black and white worlds, understanding that each possessed its own language and customs and structures of meaning, convinced that with a bit of translation on my part the two worlds would eventually cohere."

Barack Obama from Dreams From My Father 1995

A Good Eye

I have been like the little bird
with one good eye.
As I moved to the feeder
to refill the seeds
she didn't see me.
So I poked her purple wing
once, twice.
She hopped about to face me
with her one good eye
then flew away.

Even with two good eyes
I have only seen half
of what can be seen.
But year after year
my callow vision improves,
like veils being lifted away
one by one or
like a foreign language
that sounds like nonsense
until you learn it, speak it
understand its beauty.

The Nature of a Below Zero Day

"Nature is ever at work building and pulling down, creating and destroying, keeping everything whirling and flowing, allowing no rest but in a rhythmical motion, chasing everything in endless song out of one beautiful form into another." John Muir (naturalist and explorer 1838-1914)

Haiku for a Cold Thursday

Anger at others
who don't believe as you do
is a waste of life

Snow fairies falling
to earth, twinkling satellites
circling in a waltz

Slashes of scarlet
birds in a mass of gray twigs
at rest in the cold

Fear is like trying
to stop a roller coaster
with your bare feet

Coexist XV - Human Love and Commitment

Recently the Cleveland news was filled with the effort by a group of pastors advocating the revocation of a domestic-partner registry, which offers rights to not just gay couples, but heterosexual partnerships as well. They needed 1000 signatures and did not receive those, but did show themselves to be somewhat ignorant of the cause they were fighting. Of course, they used the old biblical passages in support of their crusade against gay rights.

The Cleveland newspaper is often blessed with the voice of reason in Rev. Kenneth W. Chalker, the senior pastor of First United Methodist Church of Cleveland. (makes me proud to be a Methodist) He wrote an excellent article on the confusion between religion and faith and how much damage has been done in the name of religion.

Merriam-Webster dictionary gives two definitions of religion as : 1.scrupulous conformity or 2.a personal set or institutionalized system of religious attitudes, beliefs and practices.

Faith is defined as 1. a firm belief in something for which there is no proof or 2. a belief and trust in and loyalty to God.

See the difference?

The following quotes are from Rev. Chalker's article:

"Pastors who would oppose a domestic-partner registry and work to prohibit any public recognition of committed, loving relationships beyond the confines of a particular religious belief are participating in an act of spiritual tyranny and civic injustice."

"

It is not unlike the pastors 150 years ago who proclaimed the Bible's endorsement of slavery as a legitmate enterprise, argued that there was no valid marriage between slaves, and therefore no reason to recognize loving relationships between slaves or recognize, in a legal way, their children."

"It is not unlike a number of leading pastors in Birmingham, Alabama who joined together in 1963 to give biblically endorsed reasons why the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. was out of line and moving too fast with his advocacy for civil rights and the elimination of legal segregation based on race and skin color. It is all the result of confusing religion with faith. Religion, at its worst, has nothing to do with affirming God in life or advocating and making a just society. Religion is a matter of cornering power, categorizing sinners, gentiles, and infidels - all the while arrogantly defending man-made, theological doctrines, catechisms, and all-too-frequent institutional nonsense. It is a terrible trivial pursuit."

Rev. Chalker goes on to suggest that it is taking the Lord's name in vain by using God's name for the religious sanction for our human prejudices. I believe taking the Lord's name in vain is one of the commandments - sexual orientation didn't make the top ten.

An Artist's Work

This is what is written on the inside cover of my chapbook. I'm not sharing it to tell about myself. I share it because I think it refers to all artists of all kinds. Those who pursue creative endeavors rarely receive recognition or understanding for the years of effort it takes to perfect any type of craft. (only actors get that)And we almost never can make a living at the thing we really love doing. People only see the finished product. We are bombarded by so much every day. Do we ever stop to think about the talents it took to create a unique ad in a magazine? Or the years of work it took to practice painting with oils or watercolors? Or write a book? Create a beautiful piece of clothing? I dedicate this to all the artists who continue to share what they've been given with the world around them.

Publisher's Position Statement on the Value of Poetry Arts

This chapbook is limited edition fine art from the poet Diane Vogel Ferri whose work you support for a few cents a page. You are not buying paper and printer's ink by weight. You selected language art that took as long to create as paintings or other fine art. Pudding House caters to those who understand the value of the poet's good work. We are in business to expand reputations rather than to assure profits for our press. Manuscripts are chosen on the basis of their contribution to literary arts and to the popular culture. On behalf of a large community of contemporary poets, this poet in particular, independent and small press publishing, and Pudding House publications, thank you for supporting this good work.

Stella in the Snow

Stella bounded out this morning for her usual sniff-fest - but finding the scents covered in snow, and having a little trouble navigating the drifts - she decided to hang out under a table where the snow wasn't quite as deep.

Wisdom in Decoupage

Anyone remember decoupage? It was back when knick-knacks and brick-a-brack were somehow important and popular. I worked in a gift shop for many years in high school and college. It was filled with a lot of unnecessary but attractive stuff. I kind of miss having gift shops around to give you ideas of unnecessary stuff to give people. Anyway! On January 3rd I wrote about opening up an old cedar chest after many years. In it I found a whole lot of wooden plaques I'd either painted or decoupaged some wisdom on. Lots of corny stuff, but I thought this one was still worth sharing:

Live each day to the fullest. Get the most from each hour, each day, and each age of your life. Then you can look forward with confidence and back without regrets.

Be yourself - but be your best self. Dare to be different and to follow your own star. And don't be afraid to be happy. Enjoy what is beautiful. Love with all your heart and soul. Believe that those you love, love you.

Forget what you have done for your friends and remember what they have done for you. Disregard what the world owes you, and concentrate on what you owe the world.

When you are faced with a decision, make that decision as wisely as possible - then forget it. The moment of absolute certainty never arrives.

And above all, remember that God helps those who help themselves. Act as if everything depended on you, and pray as if everything depended upon God.

S.H.Payer

LIQUID RUBIES is published!!!

My poetry chapbook, "Liquid Rubies" arrived on my doorstep today and I had to share my good news. I will post information about ordering it as soon as I can. I will warn you that they are not pretty poems. The term "Liquid Rubies" comes from the notion of the blood we shed and the scars we accumulate in this life here on earth. Here is a poem included in this collection:

Deliverance

In the womb my blood sifted into her, through
the portal she was resurrected into hands, arms, light.

Rivers of blood followed her out of my body
for days my cowardly legs refused the sanitary corridors.

Transfused with exotic plasma
God lifted my veil to see

a new body, a new world and my lifeblood
in her innocent earlobes and unscarred knees.

It was Mother's Day as it has been
ever since the bloodletting.

As a child I told my mother
I loved her so much it was red,

red as the sight of liquid rubies
coming from nose and toes until

it was my daughter and I bleeding
in the same space, two women.

Now we walk the New York streets and my love
for her is as red as the blood she owns or

my relentless bloodletting
letting go.

Why I Love Sad Songs

It's the 50th anniversary of Motown! While reading an article about this momentous occassion :) I thought about how much I loved Motown songs starting from about fifth grade on. I had big posters of the Supremes on my bedroom walls for quite some time. I thought about some of my favorite songs and yes, they were mostly sad songs. I need to feel something to really enjoy a song. The lyrics are paramount (now anyway, when I was eleven I didn't have a clue.) Some of my favorites were "I Wish it Would Rain" and "Since I Lost My Baby" by the Temptations. "Love Child" and "Reflections" by the Supremes, "Tracks of my Tears" and "Ooh Baby, Baby" by Smoky Robinson. All tear-jerkers.

Back then (in ancient times) I never thought about any cultural differences. Even though I didn't really know any black people in my childhood, these singers were my idols. They brought the best songs to a Junior High heart - simple, catchy, easy to sing along to.

So this may explain why I love sad songs. I like to cry or commiserate right along with the singer. I like to know that I'm not the only one who's felt that way. It's cleansing.

I dug out a few of my albums and 45's (Yeah, I'm old) for your viewing pleasure. Or if you're old like me - a nice memory.

Sailor Boy

This is a poem I wrote for my son this Christmas.

The boat sways restlessly,

silent and shackled to a bollard,

the white sails furled and still.

Water laps indifferently at the hull

as the yellow-clad boy lovingly releases

the boat from its confinement and from

what anchors his spirit to the immovable land.

He feels a heartbeat in the water,

a drumming rhythm in the waves.

A true wind blows as he tacks through sea spray.

The mast aims at heaven,

the bow points to tomorrow.

The God of the wind mightily pulls

the sails through the summer air and

sends protection from the power of the sea.

This is the vessel that carries all

boyhood freedom dreams,

the unknown world and all its tears.

It is here the boy becomes a man.

As he comes about to see eternity on the horizon.

He owns his place in the universe.

The young man turns and looks towards the stern

and understands in the boat's wake

is winter - and all that he will leave behind.

My Two Lives

The cedar chest sat in the dusty back corner of the crawl space for many years. Nothing in particular brought it to my mind, but after all this time it was unburied, pulled out and set in the light of an eastern window to breathe again. I lovingly wiped off the cobwebs and dust and opened the heavy tapestry-like lid.

One by one I unwrapped the 1996 newspaper from each item. That was the year I left my first life and started my second one. Commemorative glassware from long-ago proms, a family photograph of a now partially intact family, Grandma's figurines, remnants of my multiple craft attempts - needlepoint, cross-stitch, decoupage, my painted wooden plaques. I wound up a music box and it played "My Favorite Things " as I uncovered engraved baby plates for my daughter and my son, and other small mementos I'd made and that had hung in their bedrooms for so long.

I sat in the midst of crumpled newspaper and piles of my old life and wept, overwhelmed at trying to reconcile my two lives with each other. I wept at having no one with which to share these memories. These items, that are without monetary value, I had put away literally and figuratively for far too long.

Be Patient with Yourself

One of my favorite, most profound and thoughtful beautiful bloggers is Fran. Today she posted a great quote for the new year. As we try to make resolutions one of the frequent results of making promises to ourselves is often disappointment, followed by beating ourselves up, followed by lowered self-esteem. Who needs that?

Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them - every day begin the task anew. St. Francis de Sales

For a lovely new year's inspirational post go HERE.

Happy New Year 2009

The word January comes from the Roman god Janus - the god of gates, doors and beginnings, so on this January 1st I wish you open gates and doors to all you wish for - and for all that you have not yet known that awaits you. I was inspired yesterday while watching a woman on TV who had lost her husband and two-year old son in a plane crash. To move on with her life she said she stopped seeing only what was taken from her and started seeing what she had been given. She had had a great marriage and the joy of a son for two years - something, she said, that others had never been given. If we could do that everyday I'm sure we would all truly have a happy new year.

And especially for my writing friends as we struggle along with our passion for words, sometimes misunderstood and lonely on our quest - T.S. Eliot said "For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning." Yes, there are endless words and language waiting for us this year.

And one more quote from Marcel Proust:

"The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes."

I love that one - having new eyes. I am not going to resolve to lose five pounds or exercise more this year - I am going to try to have new eyes to all that is around me.

Happy, happy new year to all. Thank you for reading this blog and for your always kind and encouraging comments.

The Phenomenon of Blogging Friends

I am grieving today for a woman I never met. A friend I never saw. We linked each others' blogs and encouraged each other. I sensed her inner beauty and saw her amazing talents on my computer screen. She had a keen eye for the quirky and an ability to mix beauty and humor. Sometimes I'd click on her name just to see the title photo at the top of her blog which I thought was the coolest photo ever. But she is gone now.

While browsing through my favorite blogs yesterday I read about her but didn't even know her real name - just Liquid Illuzion. (click to see yourself) At Writing in Faith I discovered that on Christmas Eve a blogger shot herself. Sandy wrote an eloquent post about suicide. I clicked on the link and it was Liquid Illuzion. I clicked off - there must be a mistake - I clicked on it again. She had posted a humorous photo on Christmas Eve and then shot herself? Then I found other bloggers who had dedicated their posts to Suzanne Horne since last week. I cried. I wondered why. I didn't even know her, but this blogging phenomenon makes us friends. I know more about some of you out there than some of the people I see every day. You know more about me than many people who see me everyday too, I'm sure. But if we are to take the joy of our blogging community then we must endure the sorrow also.

Good-bye Liquid Illuzion - good-bye Suzanne. I can truly say I will miss you and the beauty you brought to the world. I wish you would have seen the beauty yourself.

Vandals

No one would choose to be gay
I heard him say, I'm surprised I lived through
my adolescence.

An abandoned child remains in neglect
in lieu of two moms or two dads that love.

Why would someone escape their own beautiful island
into the sinking boat of a cloistered world

of vandalism and horse blinders, of rosy
perceptions and boomerang standards,

while the poverty of minds and imaginations
that sacked Rome in AD 455 still lives on?

Who can be a mouthpiece for the ages?
In the bathtub don't we all sit in our own dirt?

Paper can spiral ashes from the fire,
but words can live on in their infamy.

You can try to sew up the wound with
catgut thread, but you still killed the cat.

Coexist XIV- Social Situations

You can probably tell by the name of this blog that I am not confortable with conflict or confrontation. Coexisting appeals to me, in part, because I lived through a few horrific years of conflict and rage. In those years I became quite adept at expressing my anger, then I learned, I grew and I had to depend on God's healing to go on living a productive life. I intend to never go there again. I had to be done with anger.

Judgment is often a precursor to conflict. It is difficult to be at peace when your mind is focused on the weakness, opposing opinions or wrongdoings of other. This year I found it difficult to deal with those that had vehement political beliefs that I did not share. I was completely okay with their beliefs, but they weren't okay with mine. I did not voice my opinions in order to avoid the conflict or hurt feelings it may have caused.

I'm not sure that was a good solution. How do you deal with social situations when people are critical or judgmental of you, what you believe, or what you choose to do with your life? When you are constantly hearing pejorative remarks about yourself and your interests - how do you react? I am always blindsided by comments like you must have too much time on your hands or you need to get a life or something else that infers that my interests in writing, blogging or any other creative endeavor I choose to pursue is a waste of time. I feel foolish when I have no comeback for these comments even though it happens at every get-together. I don't anticipate being put-down because I do not concern myself with what others choose to do with their life.

At work I often encounter teachers that compare how much work others have or how hard (or not) they are working. I never think about what another teacher is doing - I have enough to worry about with my own job, let alone someone elses! I assume everyone is doing their best.

In these social situations (that I hope to enjoy) I suppose I can continue to take the negative comments that feel like a slap in the face and turn the other cheek for the next slap. But I have a relentless and annoying need to understand why. Am I offensive in some way? Are they trying to boost themselves up by putting me down? Is it a joke and I don't get the punch line? Do they truly think so little of me? Any advice out there in the blogosphere?

Coexisting includes allowing others to have differing opinions and not be enraged by them. Coexisting allows others to make their own life choices without judging them. I certainly have not always lived up to these standards, but the older I get the easier it seems to let others be as they are. It is not my concern. Jesus accepted, befriended and loved the sinners in His path with no conditions. I am not even close to that ideal, but I am working on it. I find that allowing others to have their own opinions and live the way they see fit is freeing. I no longer carry the burden of judgment. That is God's job, not mine. And His world would be a boring place if we all did and thought alike.

During the Presidential campaign, the reporters could not wait to get Obama's comments on the newly revealed pregnancy of Sarah Palin's unwed teenage daughter - I loved and admired his comment, which I think is the essence of coexisting, even in competition when he could have slammed the Palin family.

He simply said - "My mother had me when she was eighteen years old."

That's coexisting peacefully.

The Prophecy of Isaiah

During the Christmas season my church choir did two selections from Handel's Messiah. As a first soprano and classical choral music lover singing this is a always a real joy and thrill for me, and always has been. Not only could I sing Messiah selections all year long and be a happy camper but I am continually amazed at the text. Of course Handel did not write the text - it is all from the book of Isaiah. Messiah tells the life of Jesus, taken from Isaiah, which was written about 700 years before the birth of Christ. Really. Read it again and be amazed.

He grew up like a tender root out of dry ground.

He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,

nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.

He was despised and rejected by men,

a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering...

Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows,

yet we considered him stricken by God,

smitten by him and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,

he was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,

and by his wounds we are healed.

We all, like sheep have gone astray

each of us has turned to our own way;

and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth,

he was led like a lamb to the slaughter.

For Unto Us a Child is Born

"A Christmas Story" House!

If you watch any of the 24 hours of "A Christmas Story" on TBS tonight or tomorrow you will see this house located on the near west side of Cleveland. We finally got over there to see it yesterday, but we picked the day it was closed! I really just wanted to see the outside anyway. You can see the leg lamp in the window of course. Across the street there is a museum and gift shop as well. For more info check my December 19 post. You can click on the photos for a better look. Merry Christmas and if you get a BB gun don't shoot your eye out!

Disruption

Conceived in a scandal, born in a barn,
Jesus disrupts and disturbs fallow lives.

He offended his people by breaking their rules,
bringing not peace but a sword

to vanquish the old ways, to unshackle the laws.
He was a dissident, an insurgent, a dent in the world.

Some who'd awaited God's final word
were disappointed, insulted, outraged.

There was no throne, just a stumbling stone
no peace before or after that day.

Your waiting is ended this Christmas morn,
a soul choice is His unending gift.

He is here. All is changed.
Now in silence He waits for you.

Robert Shaw Chorale

It is not Christmas morning if I do not hear a certain hymn. "Break Forth O Beauteous Heavenly Light" from "The Many Moods of Christmas" by the Robert Shaw Chorale.

Break forth O beauteous heavenly light
and usher in the morning;
Ye shepherds shrink not with afright,
But hear the angel's warning.
This child now weak in infancy,
Our confidence and joy shall be.
The power of Satan breaking,
Our peace eternal making.

I thought the piece was written by J.S.Bach, but on closer inspection I see that he wrote the harmonies - which are gorgeous. Johann Schop wrote the melody. The song just sounds like Christmas to me, but beyond that I am reminded of singing with the great Robert Shaw in 1990. Robert Shaw is considered to be the most influential choral conductor in American history. I had heard about him all my life from my mother who sang with the Mendelssohn Chorus in Pittsburgh under Shaw's direction. Growing up I heard the music of his chorale and stories about the amazing and charismatic man he was.

In 1990 I was singing in the summer version of the Cleveland Orchestra Chorus - The Blosson Festival Chorus. I actually lost count of how many years I sang with them in the summers. (14-15 I think!) It was a great thrill to sit behind the Cleveland Orchestra, long thought to be one of the greatest in the world, and to sing with many guest conductors. Not only did I meet Mr. Shaw (and get his autograph) that summer we did my favorite choral work with him - Brahm's German Requiem. It was an experience I will never forget. My mother was thrilled that I had the experience as well, of course.

The Many Moods of Christmas is the quintessential Christmas album. It was originally recorded in 1963, but you can still buy it today. Click on both of his names above to learn more.

Cleveland Christmas Memories

In the first half of the twentieth century Cleveland was a well established major city, endowed with the cultural arts thanks to people with names like Rockefeller. Christmas was a magical time. I grew up in a village in the eastern suburbs about 20 miles from the city, but it seemed like another world. In the city I saw people with different skin color than mine for the first time. The gaseous fumes from buses was foreign to me. My mother and I would venture downtown on the "rapid transit" and visit my great-aunt Irene who worked at The May Company, which later became Kaufman's and now Macy's. Sadly, all the downtown department stores are now gone. Back then the store windows would display elaborate Christmas scenes with moving figures. At The May Company I remember being relegated to a children's playroom so my mom could shop.

Higbee's was another department store. Established in 1929, it became Dillard's in 1992. Higbee's was a store with wooden escalators and revolving doors. It had a well-loved restaurant called The Silver Grille. It was THE place to see Santa. At Twigbee's, children could do their own shopping. But the best thing was to see Mr. Jingaling! Mr. Jingaling was a Cleveland Christmas institution for 25 years. His real name was Earl Keyes, which is ironic because Mr. Jingaling was the keeper of Santa's keys. Not only could you visit him on Halle's seventh floor (the other big store), but you could receive a coveted cardboard key. I still have one stashed in a trunk somewhere. Mr. Jingaling would come on the local TV station every evening during the season, so he was a celebrity.

I still remember his song -

Mr. Jingaling, how you tingaling

Keeper of the keys

On Halle's seventh floor

We'll be looking for

You to turn the key.

We still saw him occasionally until his death in 2000. Once I saw him in a store and practically had a conniption. My children were with me, but were completely unimpressed by the weird looking dude.

If you watch "The Christmas Story" this season you will see Higbee's prominently featured in the movie. Part of the movie was filmed on Public Square in Cleveland and you can go to see "The Christmas Story" house which is now a public attraction in an area called Tremont. (I was hoping to report first-hand, but I haven't made it there yet.) There was a "Christmas Story"convention in town a few weeks ago and 4000 people traipsed through the house to see the leg lamp.

From 1909 to 1968 there was another large store called Sterling Lindner. Every year it would put up a Christmas tree that was purported to be the largest in the nation. Another must-see. Other attractions from childhood included the lighting display on Public Square and at Nela Park (the GE plant). My dad made sure we had an annual trek in the station wagon to see all the lights.

These are a big part of my Christmas memories and I know they are to others my age as well. The magic existed because there weren't a lot of special things the rest of the year. My childhood was somewhat prosaic and normal, so an animated store window was something special. Making an effort to go all the way downtown to see the one and only Santa was so believable. Meeting Santa's helper in person - priceless!

I don't want to sound like an old fart, but I wonder what is special to children now? They don't have to wait in anticipation all year to see Rudolph or Frosty - they own them on DVD. Animations and special effects are a part of their everyday lives. Maybe - I hope - there are magical experiences to replace the ones we had. I know nothing stays the same - but sometimes I wish it would.

For the Love of Winter

My abundance is in winter.

I dwell in the peace

of the silent snow,

sitting by the yellow

light of a lamp

with a blanket and a book,

or comfortably close

to him on the love seat.

I find joy in the lack of humidity and

the offensive noise of lawn mowers.

I feel happy covering my homely limbs

with sweaters and jeans instead

of sticky sunscreen and sweat,

and I am justified drinking another hot tea.

There is beauty in the stark outline

of trees and squirrels against whiteness,

or watching my little dog sniff deer tracks

and race inside with a snowy nose.

To come out of the quiet cold

into the warmth of a home,

to hear the furnace kick on,

to snuggle up to a warmer body

under chilly bedsheets

is the abundance of winter.

Angels I Have Seen on Google - and Karen Carpenter

I painted these angels as gifts for my friends, but they're so cute I want to keep them! Here's something weird: the photo to the right - the one of the angel with a trumpet? I painted that. It's sitting, as we speak, on my shelf just as I photographed it last year and put it on my blog last year. Recently I was looking up Christmas pictures on Google Images and there was my angel! In my house! And I didn't put it there! How did it get there? Weird.

Here's a random Christmas memory. When I was very young - fourteen to be exact - I had a boyfriend and we were deeply in love. :) God knew I was getting in too deep and had the boy's parents move him to Albuquerque, New Mexico that autumn. That Christmas, my singing idol, Karen Carpenter had a popular song - Merry Christmas, Darling come out. If you have lived in America for more than a year I'm sure you're familiar. It's a beautiful song sung by an amazing talent. Well, every time I hear it, even all these years later, I think of that sweet boyfriend, Doug. I remember spending a lot of time that Christmas season in my bedroom sitting by my little electric heater crying my eyes out and singing " I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve, I wish I were with you - I wish I were with you...." I can still remember how that felt. How unfair to have him taken from me - how unfair to have that song come out that same Christmas! If, for some reason, you've never heard it click HERE.

The Chapel Bridge Souvenir

Five years ago I was fortunate enough to go with my church choir on a singing tour through parts of Europe. We visited and sang our way through Germany, Switzerland, Austria, and a bit of Liechtenstein and France. It was a dream come true for me. I had yearned to see Austria ever since I was ten years old after seeing The Sound of Music for the first time. Salzburg was more beautiful than you can imagine. Throughout the trip I had my heart set on finding one special souvenir - specifically something for Christmas. I thought there would be numerous Christmas stores in every city. You know how you always see the German wooden ornaments and candle holders? Well, either they were not there or I missed every one of them. About half way through the trip I began to panic. I had not seen one single Christmas ornament! (It was July, but it was Europe. We want our souvenirs) We spent a free day in Lucerne, Switzerland. It was a rainy day. My daughter was with me on the trip and we really wanted to shop. We crossed the Chapel Bridge (see above) and there was a tiny little Christmas shop on the bridge. We continued through the city and then, after an exhausting and sopping wet search I decided at the last minute to run back through the rain and get the Christmas candle/nativity set you see here. I'm glad I did and I love it. I had expected to find a terrific deal but it wasn't any cheaper than those I'd seen at a specialty store here in Cleveland. But the biggest disappointment was to find out that my special decoration from far away Europe came from a shop called Joe's Souvenir's!

Erasing Names

This past week it was time to do the Christmas cards. I remember a time when I actually looked forward to sitting down and writing little notes to everyone and now somehow it seems more like a chore. Maybe because with email and cell phones we are able to communicate with those we don't see often so much easier than 10-15 years ago. I went through my address book to check and see if there was anyone new to add to the list. There was not. But sadly there were five names to eliminate. Two friends and three relatives, gone from this earth, but not from my heart. What is sadder than erasing someone's name? The loss of two friends this year is still difficult for me to fathom. They were both in their fifties, so close to my age. Jeanne left two teenage children that she will never see grow up. But both friends were women of deep faith and I know they are held in God's heavenly arms now. The poem I posted last week called "To Have Love" was in part, about my thoughts for their husbands left behind and alone now. The photo is a shelf in my writing room. Three dear friends gone. Two from cancer and one from muscular dystrophy - rest in peace.

Religion vs. Faith

"Religions are not revealed, they are evolved. If a religion were revealed by God, that religion would be perfect in whole and in part and would be as perfect at the first moment of its revelation as after ten thousand years of practice. There has never been a religion that fulfills those conditions."

Robert Blatchford (1851-1943)

And for today's inspiration. . . .

Click HERE and find an article about a mailman named Don Szczepanski.

Jesus of Nazareth

In my humble opinion the most outstanding production ever made for television was "Jesus of Nazareth." It is a six hour mini-series first shown at Easter in 1977. If you would like to remind yourself why we're celebrating Christmas you will not be disappointed in watching this beautiful depiction of the life of Jesus. Sometimes I just watch the Christmas or the Easter portions. Above is the scene when Mary visits Elizabeth to tell her that she is with child also. Luke 1: 41 says, "When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby (John the Baptist) leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit." It is said that John recognized the divinity of Jesus in the womb with his spirit-filled leap. Cool.

This series has an all-star cast - Lawrence Olivier, Christopher Plummer, James Earl Jones, Anne Bancroft, Ernest Borgnine, Olivia Hussey - among others. To me, Olivia Hussey portrayed Mary with the utmost innocence and humility. Robert Powell is so amazing as Jesus that I remember spending months afterwards picturing him while praying! Even now I do not find the production or the acting outdated in any way. I know it is just a movie, but it always brings home the reality of Christ's life to me in a wondrous way. If you need a pick-me-up this holiday season I would recommend this movie. Happy, happy holidays.

Scandalon

This morning in the choir room our director was trying to figure out where we would all sit in the choir loft. He commented on the fact that some of us have our favorite seats and we had dented the cushion to suit ourselves. We all chuckled. Then Pastor Chip came in to pray with us. His prayer included the phrase, "God you dented the world with Christmas." I love the notion that God puts a dent in our comfortable places and makes us just a little uneasy. During Advent we often hear the words of the prophet Isaiah. Handel used Isaiah's words to bring his glorious "Messiah" to life.

Isaiah 8:14 says - He will be a stone that causes men to stumble and a rock that makes them fall. And for the people of Jerusalem he will be a trap and a snare. Many of them will stumble; they will fall and be broken, they will be snared and captured.

I am not a theologian, but I think Isaiah is predicting how Jesus will be a scandal when he comes. He will challenge us to a better way of living. He will get people out of their easy chairs and face a new life in Him. Recently I have forced myself to read some of the Old Testament through a daily devotional. Boy, those folks were messed up. How they needed a new way of life and a new attitude.

I have always thought that even if you are not a Christian you can see that Jesus's way is THE way to live: Love, forgive, turn the other cheek, be at peace. Many other religions revere Jesus as a man that showed us how to live on this earth together. That's what Advent is about. We await the newness and the better way that we all need so desperately. As Christians we believe Jesus is the way.

Michael Card is a Christian composer and recording artist that almost exclusively uses scripture for his songs. He has a song called "Scandalon" that I have always loved the words to:

He will be the truth that will defend them one and all

A stone that makes men stumble and a rock that makes them fall

Many will be broken so that he can make them whole

Many will be crushed and lose their own soul.

It seems today the scandalon offends no one at all

The image we present could be stepped over

Could it be that we are like the others long ago?

Will we ever learn that all who come must stumble?

This Advent let Jesus put a dent in your world. Stumble into Christmas. Believe.

To Have Love

In the midst of your hands on me
peace arrives

the music stops and a nothingness
fills the void, a quietude

your whisperings
my clutching

where am I?
when did you come

to bring all thesse
senses to life

and all this gratitude
coagulates in my brain

for what we have in this moment
and then a sudden sadness

for someone who does not have
what we have

does not know
what we know

has never been loved
as we have loved.

Another Child's Poem

Winter is so fun and cold
While I watch the ground
sparkle, it is so pretty
While I watch the snow
fall from the sky.

By Kayla Rosell
fifth grade student

A Child's Poem

I am an Intervention Specialist for fifth and sixth graders. I used to be called a special education teacher, but that's not PC -so now I have a title that basically means I help the special education students in the general classroom as well as bring them to my room for small group instruction. Anyway - the belief is that if students are "exposed" to the general curriculum and are with typical same-age peers that they will learn better. That is not always the case, but sometimes I see the benefits of "Inclusion". The other day the fifth grade teacher was teaching the students about free verse poetry after previously attempting rhymed verse. The classroom that I work in is the only one in the building to have a SmartBoard, which is an interactive whiteboard hooked up to a computer that can display the Internet or be used as a chalkboard with memory. I brought up this blog (which usually is blocked in the public schools, but somehow works with the SmartBoard) to show the students some of my free verse. They didn't seem all that impressed, but one of my students, Courtney Gipson-Payton wrote this lovely poem. I think he understood the lesson:

As I fill the life

As I fill the air

As the season goes by the month

I still am a part of life.

Haiku for a Wednesday

Brought to each new day
fellowship in mere living
survival of love

In my creation
a solitary journey
to heights unknown

The sun of my soul
fell into total eclipse
the day I left God

What Fades Away

Today I'm pondering something seemingly unimportant, but I write about it to ask the bigger question - how does our culture slowly change? Most of us can identify each decade in the twentieth century by clothing, music, government, and national or world events. (I'm not sure about this decade and I'm not even sure what we're calling it yet.) Here's a question to my female readers: Did you play "dress-up" as a child? Did you have a box full of cast-offs from older sisters, cousins and your mom? High heels to toddle around the house in? Then as a teenager - what was the most exciting part of dances and proms? The dress, right? (Hopefully it wasn't the paramount focus of your wedding though.)

In my young adulthood I attended many employee Christmas parties, some class reunions, weddings, anniversary parties and my annual union banquet. At all of these events everyone dressed formally - suits and ties, dresses (sometimes long) and your best jewelry. In the last ten years I have watched it all disappear. Company Christmas parties have either been discontinued or relegated to appetizers in someone's family room. My neighborhood Christmas party lessened in its formality until it was in a bar in January and this year ended altogether. Class reunions that used to be dinner-dances are now picnics or golf outings. (My daughter just attended a class reunion. She wore a flirty Betsey Johnson dress and said all the other girls had jeans on. )

I used to buy something special every year for my union banquet, but over the past ten years people have come in increasingly casual outfits. I think it's kind of sad. I'm witnessing a cultural tradition disappear in my lifetime. It's not that pricy clothes are so important - it's feeling that the event is special, that it's something to look forward to, that it's not just another occassion to wear jeans.

When I started teaching I dressed like a, well, a teacher! Skirts and blouses, nice shoes. I remember wearing suits when I would be meeting parents for any reason. Now teachers wear jeans, tennis shoes, sweat suits, shorts, anything goes. Another example is from the times I have attended Broadway plays in New York City. I thought the theater was a place to get all gussied up. But tourists are at the shows in their shorts and tee-shirts after schlepping around the city all day.

I don't think I'll try to rebel against this trend very much. I like to wear something besides jeans on holidays or when I'm entertaining, but I don't care what anyone else wears. I wonder who sent out the memo telling us that we don't dress-up for anything anymore? When did that happen? And if I do dress up am I just going to look like an old person from another era because of it? Kind of like my grandma who wore dresses and nylons to clean house?And most importantly where will little girls get the their dress-up clothes from now?

A Book Review and a Movie Review

I thought I'd share two things worth checking out. If you don't mind reading long books you'll love "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle" by David Wroblewski. It is 562 pages of gorgeous writing and an unusually beautiful story of a boy and dogs - but it much more than that. It is reminiscent of a Shakespeare tragedy. Set in 1950's Wisconsin, the Sawtelles raise a fictional breed of dogs. Edgar is mute but not deaf. The reason for his inability to talk is never answered. When Edgar's father dies suddenly and his uncle Claude insinuates himself into his life and that of his mother, Edgar, in his grief, makes some mistakes that change everyone's lives. Wroblewski took ten years to write this masterpiece and it was worth it. (And it's his first book!) The language, the story, a tiny bit of magical realism, and the setting will all entrance you.

I'm not a big movie watcher. The movies we rent on Netflix now are mostly so forgettable. Recently I've enjoyed having the Turner Movie Classic channel and especially watching some old Spencer Tracy/Katherine Hepburn movies. So I cannot remember how long it's been since I saw a newer movie I would actually recommend. This one is a couple years old, so many of you have probably already discovered it, but if not - see "Pan's Labyrinth." It is called an adult fairy tale. The setting is World War II Spain. (It is subtitled - but that won't scare readers away, now will it?) The movie brilliantly combines the realistic horrors of war with a child's fanatasies. The special effects are wonderful and the story is compelling. The little girl, Ofelia, is amazing in a way only child actors can be. There are fairies and a faun that somehow seem completely believable in the horrible life of this young girl. The ending is tragic and satisfying all at once. I won't give any more away.

If you have books or movies to recommend I'd love to read about them.

Winter Again

Flying creatures, unfrozen

clutter and dance at the feeders.

Deer huddle in snowhills

only head and ears silhouetted

against stark ice-blue.

Picnic tables smothered against white

and a scarlet bit

of cardinal on a barren twig.

Thanksgiving

Earth is turning and a massive star burns.
The unfailing harvest from the soil arrives
in its true season and every living day
succumbs to the dark and restive night.

Hearts are beating and lungs expanding,
the brain exerts its power of language and love,
blood strains relentlessly for its destination
as our living bodies continue on.

We do nothing in all the days of our lives
to keep these laws in motion
or call them forth to complete their roles.
Nothing we do allows our eyes to open each morning.

And so for all that we cannot do on our own,
for the gift of free will and lives of unending choices,
for this food and the love we learn through time on Earth
we thank you God for your blessings.

Three Haiku Poems

Snowflakes like fairies

from a fissure in heaven

a fun flotilla

A daughter will fly

each generation is more

she is more than me

A son makes you smile

because now he is a man

his voice brings new joy

Saturday Musings

I haven't been a very good blogger this week. I've been sick, report cards and conferences are coming up, as well as 20+ people coming to my house for Thanksgiving - so things are not looking good for this week either! But don't give up on me yet.
Here are some random photos to ponder:
This is my forlorn little Ferri fairy that my daughter got me. (Her wings broke off) She sits in my flower box. Today we have about 5-6 inches of snow so it's already hard to remember when we had flowers.

Wine update - still waiting....

Is this cute, or what? I feel like Woodstock visited my deck.

This is what happens when you leave your ferns out until it snows. They turn a reddish-purple color.

Daily Dilemma

Our neighborhood has one lake and eight ponds - and dozens of geese! Where did they all come from (Canada? If so why won't they go back?) I truly love birds but all they do is honk and eat and poop and reproduce. Our little lake beach was almost unusable this summer due to their waste products and the lake filled with ecoli as well. We've tried all the legal things and are moving towards desperation. This photo is typical but there is a group of 30+ here all the time. The place that a gosling hatches is the place it will always return, so sadly, the eggs are shaken and unhatched in the spring - but that hasn't stopped them from coming from neighboring ponds. It's too bad there's not room for all of us.

All My Dogs

I read this "meme" on a couple other blogs. (Someone still has to explain to me what exactly a "meme" is and how it is pronounced.) Here's what you do:

1. Grab the book nearest you right now.
2. Turn to page 56.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post that sentence with these instructions on your blog. (If you don't have a blog just try it anyway - it's fun)
5. Don't look for your favorite book, coolest book, or most intellectual book - just the closest one.

I love the sentence I came upon. If you're reading the most acclaimed books right now you might know where it came from.

"She was holding a pup in the air in front of her, examining it and singing under her breath how she was crazy for tryin', crazy for cryin', crazy for loving it."

Isn't that a beauty of a sentence? It made me think about the dogs in my life and how I never saw one of them as a puppy. There have been four dogs. Two were family pets and the last two were completely bonded to me and I to them.

The first dog came along some time in my teenage years. It was one of the funniest looking dogs you've ever seen. She had the body and face of a beagle-shepard mix and the legs of a dashhound. She had a big bark and her name was Tiger (Lily) . She was passed down the street and we were the last house on the street and after a lot of C'mon, Moms she stayed with us.

The next dog was a German Shepard named Guy. A friend had lovingly trained this wonderful dog and couldn't keep him anymore - so at age two he came to my family when my children were very young. Sadly, he left us only six years later because of the heart-breaking (and human) disease, myesthenia gravis.

I missed having a dog and so within about three months I got a call from my mom saying a neighbor found a cute stray dog. We all went to see her and immediately fell in love with Quinci. She was probably about six months old by then though. Quinci stayed with me through the worst days of the life and let me cry into her abundant blond hair on many lonely nights. Then she let me know when she couldn't go on and I teafully had to have her put to sleep. I will never forget watching the life go out of her eyes.

I think about a year went by and again I missed having a buddy on my walks. I visited several shelters and chose a cute little mixed breed named Stella. Stella came with separation/anxiety disorder, but she's okay now. She was a year old when I brought her home.

So that is why I've had dogs but never a puppy. That's a lot of information to give you from just a sentence in a book.

Canary

This poem will be published in Plainsongs in January.

I imagine her face flushed
with windburn on the trek
from the apartment building -
its dull ochre bricks spitting
her out onto the sidewalk -
to the hole where people move
downward through timeless grime
and black puddles, like a whale
sucking fish through its baleen.
Forced into a silver bullet,
under water and cement,
the weight of the world above.
Earbuds, paperback, downcast
eyes poised for solitude,
her body toggling with the erratic tracks.

A canary in a coal mine;
Flying out of the pit, wings
of yellow hair and striped knit
scarves lifting, buoyant in the
whoosh and clash of hot and cold.
The miasma and matter
stinging her eyes and tongue.
The burden of bags pulling
at slender shoulders, her heart
heavier than what she carries.
Platform boots sprinting over
clotted paths - so far from my
peace and quiet - on into her life.
Her smile piercing each new arrival
like a baseball crashing through a window.

S'more Haiku

scrape of metal rakes

copious piles of red leaves

jump in and smell them

smell of burning wood

smolders into a new day

permeates the air

amidst the purple

clouds like spilled ink in the sky

then peach-pink of dawn

Irritating Phrases

A fellow blogger at Working With Words recently linked to an Oxford University study about the Top 10 Most Irritating Phrases. Here's the list and then I'm going to list some of my own. What are yours? What are those words or phrases that you get so sick of hearing or being used incorrectly.

1. at the end of the day
2. fairly unique
3. I personally
4. at this moment in time
5. with all due respect
6. absolutely
7. it's a nightmare
8. shouldn't of
9. 24/7
10. It's not rocket science

These are mine:
1. YOU GUYS (How I hate this term! I always tell my husband that if the server at a restaurant calls me a "guy" I'm reducing their tip.)
2. I could care less (if you COULD care less that means you actually care.)
3. awesome ( very few things are awesome - maybe God, that's about it for me)
4. supposably ( I don't know how many adults I've heard say this - it's supposedly)
5. absolutely (I agree with this one - why is everything suddenly absolute?)

There are probably more I'm forgetting, but here are some new words or phrases in education that are used to sound progressive , but they are just new terms for old ideas.

1. short cycle assessments (aka - SCA)- this is what we call quizzes now.
2. summative assessments - this was formerly a test.
3. professional learning community (PLC) This is what we call a meeting now.
4. roll out - instead of introducing something, now we "roll it out"
5. front loading - this used to be called pre-teaching.
6. schema - instead of asking children how they learn the best, we tell them to discover their individual "schema".

The Power in Us All

A couple weeks ago a parent came into my room and spoke to me in a very disrespectful and insulting tone of voice. She was angry and would not let me speak. I spend every school day helping her daughter, yet I was being spoken to as the enemy. It was very upsetting, of course, even though this woman is known to have done this many times to other teachers. The following week we met as a team with her. There were five professionals, all people who knew and had worked with her daughter. She continued her onslaught of disrespectful tone and language. It left all of us red-faced and flustered, and probably ruined the day for most of us.

There is a quote by the renown child psychologist, Haim Ginott that I always keep on my bulletin board at work. As you read it replace "child" and "teacher" with person, and "in the classroom" with anywhere I go, and think about the fact that we all have the power to lift up or destroy someone's day.

"I've come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It's my personal approach that creates the climate. It's my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher I possess a tremendous power to make a child's life miserable of joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and a child humanized or dehumanized."

Haiku for a Monday

These are my first attempts at haiku. If you remember from Junior High English class the first line is 5 syllables the second is 7 and the last is 5.

our nation now stands

on a fragile house of cards

please come and save us

a small wooden cross

by the roadside reminds me

to buckle up now

bird arrows, hawk's wings

slashing contrails intersect

the pure and blue sky

eyelids flap open

songs waken me in the night

music in my dreams

My Grandmother's Gift - Part 3

I recently wrote about receiving my grandmother's manuscripts. I just finished reading one of her novels entitled The Humble Ones. It turns out that the reading of this book couldn't have been more timely. The setting is a small Pennsylvania town, probably in the early 1940's. A major part of the plot concerns a young girl who befriends the town's only black family. She desperately wants them to join her church and is met with racial prejudice and bigotry that shocks and upsets her. My grandmother did a wonderful job of portraying a variety of townspeople and their reactions to meeting black people for the first time in their lives. The story continues to contrast the innocence of an unknowing child to the realities of our society before the civil rights movement. As the girl grows into a young woman she continues to befriend this family and advocate for their rights. Some of what my grandmother wrote would be considered politically incorrect now, but her true desire for social justice shines through the entire book.

Here is a brief excerpt that I found particularly interesting:

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if in some time in the future we hear of a great negro leader, or statesman, or even a president, you and I could say we predicted it. Both girls laughed and Laurie added, "And we would be proud too, and remember that we had been his friend."

My grandmother has not been around to witness all the changes in America in the past two decades - but this week I think she would be amazed - I'm sure she would be proud.

Coexist XIII- The UNITED States of America

This morning anABC reporter recounted a moment last night on Times Square. He was standing next to two African American women and saw their legs buckle under them as they gazed upward. He looked up to see on a huge monitor with all the US presidents - and Barack Obama. The reporter said to them , "Twelve of those men owned slaves." And one woman responded, "That stain is now washed clean." Wow. That touched me deeply. I hope it's true. I hope we are entering an era when Americans truly begin to understand the beauty and unique value of our diversity.

I watched Obama's inspiring acceptance speech with fifth graders today and I was emotional. Maybe because I spend my days with mostly black, mostly underprivileged children. These children are typically surrounded with white teachers and administrators for all of their school years. We are always telling them they can succeed at anything they choose. But I've often wondered if any of them believe us. Maybe now they will.

Maybe their parents didn't believe that they could be Dr. Cliff Huxtable or lawyer Claire Huxtable because that was just a TV show. Now a man brought up by a single mother and grandparents, not rich, not privileged, has achieved the ultimate dream right before their eyes.

I hope that Obama feels the collective weight of our hope. I pray God protects and guides him. And no matter who you voted for - let's go back to being the UNITED States of America now. Let's experience together the audacity of hope.

Voting Day 2008

At first I thought the early morning exhilaration was from the knowledge that it's finally over!!! But then I realized that the joy I felt in voting this morning was more than that. It was a feeling of hope. It was hope in my future and the security of retirement someday. It was hope in my children's future. It was the hope of real change in this country. It was hope in educational reform that will touch the children I work with everyday.

Some people get upset with the idea of someone not voting as they are. I do not. I know that everyone has valid reasons for choosing their candidate. We all vote our conscience. And after all the name-calling, ridiculous emails and misleading advertisements - we all vote for the person that strikes us as the most capable, reasonable and with the most integrity. I believe that Barack Obama and John McCain are both decent, intelligent, capable men who love their country.

I think we've all felt the stirring of something new in the air, something uplifting after years of war and the downward spiral of our economy. I don't remember feeling this way on other voting days. I sensed the privilege of what I did this morning more than I ever have. I believe the best man will win today.

God Bless America.

You Can Vote However You Like

There are still beautiful things happening in America.

Click HERE