Dreaming

In the haze of that place between being awake and sleeping, I saw you heading for the door.

“You going out now?”

“Yeah, I’m going out.”

You were wearing a loose summer shirt, short sleeves, un-tucked, and pair of light-colored khakis. You had on that straw hat you don’t often wear, and were sporting a well-groomed beard. You looked just the way I like you to look.

I could see you talk to the native woman, the woman who always told us where to go and how to keep safe. You crossed the ravine and began walking along the field to meet to man who would take you to where the danger is.

It was only then that my fog cleared and I realized you where going without me. I leapt from the makeshift bed in the living room of our German hosts and ran out the door, still in my underwear and barefoot. The morning light was soft, the air still sweet from the cooler night.

I couldn’t remember why we came here, what we hoped we could accomplish, or why today I had stayed in bed. I could see you on the other side of the ravine, walking quickly so as not to be late. In my panic, I realized facing the danger with you was more important than self-preservation. I began running and calling your name, my voice hoarse from lack of use. I ran and ran, calling for you, your straw hat bobbing in the distance. My lower body covered in mud from the damp earth, my face just as wet from tears and screams. I began to gain on you. My calls finally reached your ears and you turned. Seeing me, you paused. I crossed the ravine, ran the few feet between us, and grabbed you in my arms.

“Never leave without saying goodbye,” I sobbed.

You held me at arms length and smiled.

Waiting

Each time I have to wait for a train to pass, I watch the windows of the compartments for my father’s face. I imagine that traveling by passenger train must be romantically pleasant—rich upholstered seats and walls (always in deep red), people dressed well in an “old world” sort of way, men reading newspapers, women flipping through literary magazines.

Most often, the trains look old and run down, graffitied and dirty. The passengers inside look even more run down—tired, weary from the day, the week, the month, the endless years of riding those trains and waiting. Waiting to get to where they’re going. In the morning, waiting to get to work, where they wait for the day’s end to wait for the trains to carry them home again. The expressionless faces at the windows expressing unconscious dreams that the interminable waiting were over, and yet not knowing what they would wait for if they believed they had a choice.

I wait too. Wait for the train to pass and the gates to rise so that I can continue on, and wait for something else. Each time I have to wait for a train to pass, I watch the windows of the compartments for my father’s face. My father has been dead for years now, and he never rode trains, but I never stop expecting that I’ll see him there, riding and waiting.

It Doesn't Pay, and Probably Never Has

Last Sunday (8 January 2006), the Dallas Morning News reported that nearly half of area high school football coaches are paid twice what teachers are paid. In some areas, coaches were paid 248% percent of the average teacher salary. Does anyone find this shocking? How can we honestly pay lip service to improving education in the United States when teachers are so utterly disregarded (and yes, I realize I’m taking a local situation and applying it to the entire nation, but sadly I believe the circumstances in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area are mirrored across the country).

Before I spend too much time screaming from my soap box, let me state for the record that I do support athletics in the public education system (as well as art, music, vocational training, and any number of other subjects outside of the usual list of academic subjects). I view these “non-academic” subjects as crucial, important, and perhaps even essential to the full development of students.

That disclaimer being made, let me get back to my rant—FOOTBALL COACHES BEING PAID MORE THAN TWICE WHAT TEACHERS ARE PAID. What is the rationale for this situation? I’ve heard all of the platitudes about non-intellectual skills that sports gives to individuals such as a healthy competitive spirit and teamwork (see my comments above about valuing athletics in the public education system). But football is one sport among many and
football coaches serve an extremely limited, all-male set of students.

Do our school districts pay coaches so well so that schools can have winning teams? But what good does that do other than school spirit (valuable, yes, but is it worth 248% what teachers make)? Football programs within the public education system don’t generate revenue for school districts like they do for colleges and universities—that isn’t and shouldn’t be their goal.

I’m tired of hearing how teachers are some of the most valuable and valued resources in our country. My response is “put your money where your mouth is!” Teaching is hard labor, and it continues to get harder. Low salaries are demoralizing and often impossible to live on. Meanwhile expectations keep rising while respect for teacher’s authority over curriculum and their classrooms dwindles. As a teacher of higher education, I am often shocked at the sense of entitlement my students have. I am shocked when parents phone me about their adult children and attempt to bully me into changing my policies and requirements. I cannot begin to fathom how much more difficult these situations are for primary and secondary-level teachers. The power now sits with students and parents, as well as administrators, not with the teachers. Is it any wonder that teaching as a profession is not appealing? What are the rewards? A personal glow of self-satisfaction only goes so far—it doesn’t pay a mortgage (if one is even accessible), it doesn’t pay for holidays to recover from burnout, it doesn’t pay for the pathetic excuse for health insurance that teachers get (at least in Texas), and it certainly doesn’t pay for sizable contributions to a personal IRA so that teachers can retire in comfort.

I realize that public education is a complicated and complex institution in the United States, and that it’s not simply a matter of raising teacher salaries. But this report is a slap in the face to every educator who gets up every morning to spend the day with other people’s children, who dedicates himself or herself to carefully planning and delivering lessons, who spends personal time outside of their work day writing curriculum and grading work, and who often spends portions of their meager incomes for books and other supplies needed to do their jobs successfully.

Be It So Resolved

Today is the day to make resolutions, to reflect back on past resolutions, take pride in those kept and resolve to do better on those broken or ignored. Shouldn’t resolutions be something we take stock of on a daily basis though—things we reflect on and strive for each day as part of our own personal evolution? After all, how is tomorrow really any different from today? Saturday becomes Sunday, December thirty-first becomes January first. The year changes, yes, but conceptually the change is no different than the change from November thirtieth to December first. Yet we give this shift tonight so much influence and meaning. We toast it, we stay up late to usher it in, we take the day off, we resolve to make changes, to be better, and to do better. But wouldn’t our personal development be more successful and more meaningful if we took a moment to reflect daily, a moment to resolve to do and be better each day? Then we wouldn’t need to make lists of resolutions to be posted on the refrigerator only to soon be buried by other miscellany held in place with magnets. On the eve of each new year we could take a break from resolving and take pleasure in knowing we are better than yesterday, last week, last month, last year, and that the processing of being and getting better is our continuous path into the future.

Oh the (In)Humanity

I freely admit that I have been, and probably continue to be naïve and overly idealistic when it comes to my ideas of justice, equality, and human rights. But I don’t care. I think idealism is entirely appropriate when considering human rights and something that we should strive for, even if the whole time we admit that the perfection inherent in idealism is impossible to achieve.

I grew up believing, again admittedly naively, that the United States was at the pinnacle of supporting, defending, and promoting human rights. As I matured in my thinking, I came to understand that the United States is not and never has been perfect in its promotion of all things good. To believe it to be so is to be a blind patriot—unwilling to critique the shortcomings of one’s nation, and even, perhaps, unwilling to strive to be better. How would my belief that the US was right and good because I’m an American be any different than citizens of the former Soviet Union believing their system was right, or Iranian citizens believing their system is right? We/I need to be more objective and critical when it comes to issues like justice, and human rights. These things supersede nationalism.

I have been deeply disturbed of late over what seems to be regular lapses in the United State’s stated commitment to human rights: our treatment of the elderly and poor needing medical care, our treatment of victims of disaster, the Abu Ghraib scandal, the issue of torture, the ongoing issue of prisoners at Guantanamo and other secret prisons in Eastern Europe and who knows where else—how long can this list go on? Today in the morning papers, I was deeply disturbed to read that United Nations inspectors have decided not to inspect the US prison at Guantanamo because the US refuses to allow inspectors to interview prisoners privately. UN inspectors charged with checking on rights abuses around the world by the UN Human Rights Commission had been invited to inspect Guantanamo by the US. Privately interviewing prisoners is regarded as standard operating procedure. The UN experts have said that interviews monitored by the US would “undermine the principles” of seeking to provide neutral, independent assessments of respect for human rights. Let us also not forget that the inmates at Guantanamo are being held has “enemy combatants,” a category of prisoner the US regards as not possessing the same rights as prisoners of war under the Geneva Conventions.

UN experts have wanted to visit Guantanamo since 2002. Earlier this year they said they wanted to go because they had reliable reports that inmates at Guantanamo had been tortured, and many of these allegations had come to light from the US’s own declassified government documents. The UN says that it is, “particularly disappointing that the United State government, which has consistently declared its commitment to the principles of independence and objectivity of the fact-finding mechanisms, was not in a position to accept these terms.” I am particularly disappointed as well, and I firmly believe that we all should be so. The US government must be held accountable.

To date, the US has only allowed the International Committee of the Red Cross to have unsupervised access to prisoners at Guantanamo. Sounds good, right? Unfortunately, the Red Cross’ reports are confidential and only submitted to the detaining power. UN reports would be made public.

If the US is truly committed to defending human rights, then it must open access to prisoners at Guantanamo, and elsewhere. It must clearly and directly denounce torture. It must admit its own shortcomings and commit itself to correcting those shortcomings and to doing better in the future. Yes this view is idealistic and perhaps naïve, but I firmly believe it is necessary.

All Animals are Equal, But Some Animals are More Equal than Others

Frank Deford, senior contributing writer at Sports Illustrated magazine, has an essay every Wednesday on NPR’s Morning Edition. I am quite a fan of Deford’s essays. His thinking is insightful and his writing is quite good. His perspective on the world of sport goes beyond the usual scores, rankings, and stats to examine the whole culture of sport within our culture.

Today, however, I must take issue with his essay. Today, Deford wrote about a growing horse slaughtering industry in the US. According to Deford, there are currently three horsemeat processing plants in the United States where horses are slaughtered and their meat exported to Europe and other areas of the world. Deford is offended by this fact, not only because he personally finds the thought of eating horse meat both literally and figuratively unpalatable, but also because, according to Deford, horses, unlike cows, pigs, and sheep, are physically different making the slaughtering process cruel and inhumane.

It’s no secret that not only am I a vegetarian, but I’m also extremely empathetic, particularly when it comes to animals. That being said, I generally don’t have a problem with people eating meat, at the same time that I hope the slaughtering process is done as humanely as possible. I do, however, have a problem with Deford valorizing horses over other animals. I don’t find the consumption of horsemeat to be any more or any less offensive than the consumption of other animal flesh. Deford equates the eating of horsemeat with the eating of cats and dogs. But at its most fundamental level, there is no real difference between eating cow meat and eating cat meat, despite the fact that cats and not cows are generally kept as pets. If animals are to be slaughtered and consumed, I hope they’re all treated humanely. Furthermore, there seems to be a matter of utility to this issue. If horsemeat can be used as food for people who want it, then why not use it as such? It seems to me to be related to issues of resources and recycling. There are after all thousands of cats and dogs euthanized in this country everyday. I’m not suggesting that all unwanted animals should suddenly be used as food products, but let’s not start creating classes of animals whereby some are worthy of reverence and respect while others can so easily be sent to market. If it’s so easy to rank animals, is it any wonder that we haven’t been able to eliminate inequalities among human beings based on race, class, sex, sexual orientation, religion, and so many other characteristics?

Will it be Black Tuesday?

Today, the state of Texas is voting on a proposed amendment to the state constitution banning marriage between same sex individuals. I have been thinking about this day and dreading it in a way, but I’m not entirely clear as to why the dread. Texas outlawed gay marriage through legislation several years ago and that law didn’t seem to affect me in the same way the proposed constitutional amendment has. I think I’m only now beginning to sort it out.

The language of the amendment goes far beyond merely banning gay marriage. In effect, the amendment would prohibit “this state or a political subdivision of this state from creating or recognizing any legal status identical or similar to marriage,” thus the state would be barred from granting any legal protection or recognition to any sort of same sex relationship. In addition, the amendment is so broadly worded so as to make it possible for mutually agreed upon legal contracts (wills, power of attorney agreements, medical directives, etc.) to be challenged and quite possibly overturned. What’s left then, in a material sense, is that any relationship other than a single man/single woman partnership seeking legal protection must go to the trouble to hire a lawyer, spend hundreds (possibly thousands) of dollars to establish a set of legal rights far more limited than those granted through marriage (at the cost of $41.00 for a license), and then those legal rights could still be ruled null and void.

Despite these very real, material, functional repercussions of the amendment, they are not what disturb me most. I am most bothered by the idea that this ban is being entered into the state constitution. I have long valued the structure of a constitution as a framework for laws and social organization. I believe the US constitution fairly successfully functions as such, and should, rightfully so, be difficult to amend. As an American, I believe in the rights of justice, freedom (including the right to self-determination), and equality for and of all people, and it is a constitution’s job to protect these rights. By amending the Texas constitution to ban gay marriage, and for that matter any legal recognition of same sex partnerships, the state of Texas is building discrimination into its organizing document. This fact, above all else, disturbs me and frightens me.

How does one fight against this sort of discrimination? How can Texas, or any government and people, institutionalize injustice? How is it possible that some individuals (many in fact) can view my life and my partnership as threatening? How can those same people so easily and comfortably not only deny what I believe to be basic rights, but also make it impossible for individuals of the same sex to make agreements between themselves? What are our rights, then? If this is the environment I have to live in, then I don’t want to be here. But who wins then?

Día de los Muertos

Today is Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), a holiday of sorts in Mexico to remember and honor the dead (also All Soul’s Day according to the Roman Catholic calendar). Living in the Southwest for the past twenty years, I have become more and more aware of this day and more and more fascinated by it. On Día de los Muertos, the graves of loved ones are cleaned and decorated, family and friends keep watch through the night at the gravesites, and ofrendas (altars) are created to honor and welcome the dead. The ofrendas are decorated with skeletons, sugar skulls and other symbols of death, as well as flowers, candles, personal belongings from the dead, photos, and food to feed the souls of the deceased who return on this day to visit.

When my father died five years ago, I began to create an ofrenda in his honor each year. It seemed a more personally compelling way to remember him than the annual memorial mass at the Catholic church my mother hosts. The ofrenda is personal and intimate to me, and in putting it together each year, I feel connected to my dad. While I believe our spirits/souls only exist in our living bodies, it is nice to think that the spirit of my dad comes to see the altar I create for him each year.

On his altar you can see a photo of him and me in a public garden in our hometown. That photo is a happy memory for me and is one of my favorites of my dad. The pocketknife and rosary that my dad carried in his pocket everyday are also there as well has his high school class ring. There are edible treats and a glass of one of his favorite liqueurs.

Also on the altar is a photo of Mila (short for Milagro, "miracle" in Spanish), Clover Leaf’s little daughter. I nursed Mila through a difficult kittenhood before she left to live a wonderful life with my best friend Kris. Mila died several years ago after a developing kidney disease. A lock of her fur is on the altar and there are some kitty treats and kibble alongside the edible treats for my dad.

In past years others who have touched my life have made the altar in the first year after their deaths: Mark’s mom Joan, Kris’ dad Wayne, and Theo. But it’s first and foremost for my dad.

Halloween 2005

Happy Spooky Day

Shock(ing) and Awe(ful)

This morning, driving into work, I was physically and emotionally sickened by NPR’s report of how Manadel al-Jamadi died at the hands of the CIA in Abu Ghraib prison nearly two years ago. John McChesney, the NPR reporter, had obtained classified CIA documents detailing eyewitness accounts of al-Jamadi’s treatment in Abu Ghraib. It seems al-Jamadi died as a direct result of torture.

News of torture out of Abu Ghraib is not new, and I’m not so naïve as to believe that torture doesn’t exist in many forms throughout the world. But I am deeply disturbed by the mounting number of incidents of torture perpetuated by the United States, and the ways in which the US government justifies the use of torture. I grew up believing that freedom, liberty, equality, and justice were values lying at the very core of America—that these values above all else defined America and set it apart from less-enlightened nations. What’s more, I grew up believing these values were rights not by virtue of citizenship, but by virtue of one’s humanity, and that this reasoning was behind the United States’ efforts to spread democracy and freedom. I also believed the United States operated in such a way so as to defend and preserve these rights among all people worldwide and to recognize the essential humanity of all people. I recognize that this perspective is grand and likely overly idealistic, but I am also deeply saddened and disturbed at the realization that the United States operates counter to its own principles, and does so on what is becoming a regular basis.

I’m not attempting to be an apologist for Manadel al-Jamadi. He may very well have a been a “bad guy.” But I cannot allow myself to believe inhumane behavior in light of someone else’s inhumanity is acceptable. To do so would destroy something in me that is at my very center. I’m above that, and better than that, and I want my country to be too.

Shoot to Score, in More Ways than One

So Sheryl Swoopes, the WNBA superstar for the Houston Comets, is a lesbian. She is only the third lesbian to come out while actively playing professionally (the other two women came out very soon before entering retirement from the sport).

Perhaps it’s insensitive to say, but is anyone really surprised there are lesbians in the WNBA? Yes I’m buying into a stereotype about female athletes, and I’m not making any apologies. She’s from rural Texas and played college ball too. What are the chances she drives a truck, likes big dogs, and drinks domestic longnecks?

This is news?

It's Their Own Fault, or Is It?

The situation in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina continues to shock and disturb me. Is it really any surprise that in circumstances where people are driven to their limits, without food, clean water, shelter, or any plans for the immediate future, that chaos would break out? Think about it, sitting in front of your computers. How you would react if suddenly you were uprooted and had no idea how to fulfill your most basic necessities. In New Orleans, it's not just a matter of finding a faucet to get some water and carrying a pack of trail mix. And this has been going on for days. I'm not excusing the chaos and violence in New Orleans, but I also am not surprised at it.

Now, Michael Brown, director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, has the gall to suggest, in the midst of ongoing recovery and evacuation efforts, that those stranded in New Orleans are responsible for their own fates. A classic case of blaming the victim for his or her own situation so as to not admit one's own culpability in creating the crisis. Brown argues that residents of New Orleans should have heeded warnings in light of a mandatory evacuation order (I may have misspoke in my earlier post about the evacuation not being mandatory, regardless however, the authorities failed to render assistance to those who couldn't evacuate because they lacked the means to do so). Brown states, "I don't make judgments about why people chose not to leave but, you know, there was a mandatory evacuation of New Orleans." Yes, Mr. Brown, we do know. We also know very well why those still in New Orleans didn't get out. And yes, Mr. Brown, you are in fact making a judgment. Brown has also stated that, "Things are going relatively well." Relative to what? Perhaps what he means is that the burning, drowning, and dying of New Orleans is going "relatively well."

Is Brown making an excuse for the utter failure of the federal government to react swiftly and decisively? It offends me that some in positions of authority can so easily disregard poor minority folks who are so "unlike" those who have the power to do something. Let me state that I am well aware of the complex and complicated nature of managing an effective response to the situation throughout the Gulf region.

President Bush has stated that the results of the effort to address the crisis are "not acceptable." Well, Mr. Bush, as the leader of the free world, as you're so often referred to, how about some leadership? We need something more than a couple of Tom Cruise Top Gun fly-bys. Oh, and thank you for cutting your month-long holiday short by two days. I'm sure the working poor of New Orleans who couldn't afford to evacuate and likely rarely get a vacation appreciate it. Perhaps they're enjoying the time off from their jobs they're getting now, but I doubt it.

The Answer My Friend, Is Blowin In The Wind

New Orleans and other parts of the central gulf coast region were hit by hurricane Katrina today. The storm was preceded by plenty of warnings to evacuate, however the authorities fell short of ordering an evacuation. What this meant was that individuals wanting to evacuate had to do so via their own devices. Who then was left in the city to ride out the storm? People without cars and people without means to hire transportation, whether it be bus, train, or plane. Those folks unable to evacuate were invited to spend the night in the New Orleans Superdome, but not after waiting in line outside of the stadium as the edges of Katrina began to touch New Orleans bringing torrential rains.

In an interview with an individual staying in New Orleans during the storm, NPR asked why he "chose" to stay. His answer was that he didn't have a working car. My immediate assumption (and I'm actually ashamed to admit this because it both buys into a grossly shallow and consumer-based notion of identity, and because it denies the reality of my own class background and experience) was that he was some poor homeless or near-homeless person. As the interview progressed, the individual let it be known that he was in fact a working high school teacher. The NPR correspondent questioned him further regarding whether or not he had heard from any of his students. In response, this vehicle-less, employed teacher, said that yes, he had in fact heard from a couple of students whose families wanted to evacuate. Those families weren't evacuating because they didn't have enough money to fill their working cars with gasoline. In response, the vehicle-less employed teacher abandoned to the forces of nature, gave his students' families money for gas so they could flee.

Where are our priorities? Poor people left in the path of a potentially devastating natural disaster. Teachers who can't afford to keep their cars running. Working families who can't afford gas for their cars and turn to their children's teachers, who then in turn give them money. Does anyone besides me see a huge problem here?

The winds are blowing, unfortunately they're not really the winds of change.