On Ferguson and White Privilege

"Imagine all the people...living life in peace...you may say I'm a dreamer...but I'm not the only one..."

John Lennon's words have been going through my head a lot since last night's disappointing, but not unexpected, announcement in the Michael Brown grand jury case. Six hours after the jury had announced that it had a decision, the prosecutor finally read the decision we all, really, knew was coming--Darren Wilson was not to be indicted for the murder of Michael Brown.

Not surprisingly, the emotions flared. And rightfully so. There are so many injustices still perpetrated on people of color in this country, and so many white people who refuse to see it.

"Racism is over!" they shout, as the Missouri KKK announces one of its largest increases in membership since President Obama's election, and promises to "take care of the terrorists" in Ferguson.

"I don't see color; I only see people!" they insist, as they use phrases like "thugs" and "terrorists" and "those people" to describe the protestors.

Langston Hughes once asked:

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?

Does it fester like a sore, and then run? 

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or does it crust and sugar over, like a syrupy sweet? 

Does it sag, like a heavy load?

Or does it explode? 

For too long, we've been telling the minority communities in this country that every thing is equal now, as they watch median incomes plummet, schools in their neighborhoods close, their young men and boys disproportionately sent to prison for crimes that whites are given probation for. Their dreams, promised to them by this country, have been deferred for too long. What we are seeing right now is the explosion. As I type this, there are protests in 37 states, as well as one at the U. S. embassy in London. People from all walks of life, all skin colors, are joining together to say

ENOUGH.

We're seeing a change coming. It won't happen over night, but change never does. But hopefully, this will be the start of something substantial. 

But. 

But. 

Those same white people I mentioned above? They're also saying, "stop protesting." "Justice has been done, what more do you want?" "The law was followed, there's nothing more to do." "What do these people want, more handouts?" 

And on, and on, and on. 

They refuse to see that they live a different life than the people directly affected by situations like Mike Brown or Trayvon Martin. Their white children will never have to worry about being stalked by police officers as they play basketball in the park, or drive around in their cars. They don't have to teach their sons to move slowly when they are around officers, to not make any sudden moves, so as not to appear threatening. Their white children can be pulled over by police officers and not have guns drawn immediately. People don't cross the street when they see a group of white boys walking down the sidewalk, or lock their car doors. 

We don't know what it's like. 

White privilege allowed a lot of us to go to bed last night knowing that what happened in Ferguson was a tragedy, yet also knowing that in a lot of ways it would never touch our lives. It allows us a level of security and power that others will never know, bestowed upon us simply because of the color of our skin. 

White privilege has nothing to do with how hard you've worked in your life. It has nothing to do with advantages you have or haven't been born with economically. It's the skin you're walking around in. The skin that allows you to distance yourself so easily from Trayvon's parents and Michael's parents. That makes it easy to say "trouble maker" or "thug" instead of child. That allows you to dismiss so much because, well, it isn't you. 

And yes, I know you have friends who are people of color. You may even have family members. Here's an idea. Talk to them. Ask them what life is really like for them. For some, yes, they may be lucky and not experience the injustice. But you may be surprised what you find out. 

The bottom line is, the fight that Dr. King and Malcolm X and all of the other leaders of the Civil Rights Movement began in the 1950s and 1960s is still continuing. We should be well on our way to the time when the protests that are happening now are not needed. Until then, all of us need to keep fighting. Because we are truly not living up to our ideals as a nation otherwise. 

Rabbit Hole #3: Escaping the Real World

It's been a while since I've posted on what I've been reading, but it doesn't mean I haven't been reading (check out my list to the right if you're interested).

If you're looking for an escape from the "real" world (and who doesn't right now?), I highly recommend the following:

Dorothy Must Die by Danielle Page
I love retellings of old stories. Wicked (both novel and musical) is one of my favorites, but I also love Wide Sargasso Sea (Jane Eyre), When She Woke (The Scarlet Letter), and My Jim (Huckleberry Finn). It's interesting to look at the familiar from another character's perspective, or from another time period.

The first in a new trilogy, Page's revisionist take on the Oz stories takes us back to Kansas and introduces us to angsty teenage loner Amy Gumm. Living in a trailer with her alcoholic mom after her dad leaves to start a new family, Amy longs for something different, which of course, shows up in the form of a tornado, sweeping Amy, trailer, and her mom's pet rat, to Oz.

This is not the technicolor Oz Amy has grown up with, however. This Oz is drab, colorless, and everyone is running scared. Because Dorothy has also found a way back, and she and her cohorts are evil. Very, very evil. The Scarecrow is a mad scientist, performing horrific experiments on any who challenges Dorothy's leadership. The Lion has not only found his courage, but is sadistically preying on everyone around him as one of Dorothy's henchmen. And the Tin Man, desperately in love with the new ruler of Oz, will do anything to win her favor. It isn't long before Amy is recruited by the Wicked Witches and the underground resistance group. Her mission--kill Dorothy.

Part Oz-revisionist story, part Harry Potter in the magical aspects, and part Hunger Games (especially in Amy's training scenes), this is a fun, fast-paced read. I'm looking forward to the next one.


Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs
Sixteen-year-old Jacob has grown up listening to his grandfather's tales of the peculiar children, who lived at Miss Peregrine's--a home for orphaned children off the coast of Wales where his grandfather grew up after escaping from the Nazis during WWII. These children all had amazing, some may say other-worldly, talents, as evidenced by the box of pictures of his grandfather saved from his time there. After witnessing his grandfather's murder by a strange being, Jacob begins therapy, but eventually decides he needs to go to Wales to see if Miss Peregrine's still exists in order to truly find closure. When he arrives, he finds the house, but it's an abandoned bombed out shell and has been that way since the war. However, the children his grandfather knew are still there--and still very much alive. Jacob and the children must battle the forces that threaten to take over not only their world, but ours as well.

Again, the first of a trilogy, Riggs uses actual old photographs of the "children" to help tell his tale and has created a wonderfully dark, enchanting world.


The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman
I'm ashamed to say this is the first Gaiman novel that I have read, but it is not going to be the last.
The narrator returns to his home in Sussex to attend a funeral. Although his childhood home no longer stands, the Hempstock Farm at the end of the lane does. Inexplicably drawn to the Farm, the narrator finds himself reliving long forgotten memories from his childhood. When he is seven, a visiting South African opal miner commits suicide on the Hempstock Farm. An ancient entity hears his dying sounds and comes to investigate. People begin to act strangely, and the narrator crosses to the Farm to discover the cause. There he encounters eleven year old Lettie, her mother, and grandmother. The women talk of other worlds, times beyond, and the Big Bang. Lettie sets out to banish the ancient force, taking the narrator with her. Unfortunately, he makes a mistake, unleashing the force out of the Farm and into his world. She takes the form of Ursula, who manipulates his parents and sister, drawing out everyone's darkest desires. In order to save him, the women must call upon ancient female wisdom, and risk everything in the process.

Gaiman is a master storyteller. This work is dark, creepy, magical, and soul-wrenching. I can't recommend it enough. Now I just have to figure which of his titles to read next.

God is not Oprah

It's been quiet here on the blog the past couple of months. The beginning of the school year always hits me like an avalanche--even though I've done this for years, the first weeks of lesson planning and meetings and grading just find me trying to find a few moments for myself. I've had a lot of posts floating around in my brain, but haven't had time to sit down to write.

And then this popped up in my Facebook feed this morning: "If God wants you to get Ebola, you will."

Excuse me?

God's not Oprah. He's not sitting in heaven, looking down at humanity, pointing his finger and saying with glee, "You get Ebola, and you get Ebola, and YOU get Ebola. EVERYBODY gets Ebola!!!"

Ebola's an infectious disease. It doesn't care if you are rich, poor, middle class, black, white, Asian, Christian, Jewish, atheist, Muslim, Jedi, or an adherent of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Neither does cancer. Or AIDS. Or the flu.

God's not punishing people because they're the wrong color or wrong gender or sexual orientation or wrong religion or don't pray hard enough. Disease can happen to anyone, at any time. Period.

Ebola's not new. It's been ravaging countries in Africa for years; most people in the U. S. just haven't been paying attention because it was "over there," happening "to them." Drug companies, which have the capability of curing or at least slowing the disease, also haven't been rushing to make meds because there really had been no profit in it for them. Until now. When the possibility of a few people in the United States and rest of the Western world contracting the disease is at hand. Suddenly, they're rushing to create a supply of drugs, which will still take months. To top it all off, you also have some politicians advocating for the extermination of anyone who has ebola. See Todd Kincannon.

I have a feeling that God is more likely up in heaven saying, have compassion on one another, and help each other.

We destroy each other easily enough as it is.

Rabbit Hole #2

There is a lot of nonfiction creeping its way into my reading pile lately, which is something new for me. In particular, there are a lot of autobiographies by and biographies on women, both past and present.

Reason for Hope by Dr. Jane Goodall

I saw Dr. Goodall speak in March, and it was absolutely everything I could have hoped for. She is an amazing woman who has accomplished so much against impossible odds. I started reading this when the world started its most recent round of craziness, and it was exactly what I needed. In addition to detailing her early work with the chimpanzees of Gombe and her creation of Roots and Shoots, and children's environmental program, Goodall discusses her spirituality, and how her belief in a higher power has helped her through the most difficult times in her career. Some may find her beliefs incompatible with a scientific background (she has not problems reconciling them with evolution and even reincarnation), but for many who read this, it will prove reassuring. In fact, I have a feeling this is one that I will be coming back to.


Marie Antoinette by Antonia Fraser

Marie Antoinette does not deserve her place as probably one of the most misunderstood and maligned women in history. I mean, what chance did she really have? Married at fourteen to a man she had never met, to a country that didn't trust her, thrust into a lack of privacy that would make even the Kardashians blush, failing to produce an heir, enduring horrific scandalous attacks on her character, family, and marriage--it's no wonder she gambled and ordered expensive clothing (which, by the way, was also expected of her as queen). Fraser does a wonderful job of showing just how difficult life was for the French queen, while not absolving her completely of being naive about politics and her role in the country's downward trajectory.

A New Orleans Voudou Priestess: The Legend and Reality of Marie Laveau  by Caroline Morrow Long

I was really looking forward to reading this biography. I love New Orleans, and nothing epitomizes the mystery of the city quite like the Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau. Sadly, what this biography showed me is how little is actually known of this free woman of color whose death made the New York Times. Long culls what facts she can from church records, city records, newspaper reports, etc., but even those do not agree. In fact, many of the newspaper articles and interviews with people who knew Marie Laveau have added to the lore surrounding her, making it difficult to know the truth. Regardless, Marie will continue to inspire and be a force in New Orleans culture.

Fair Warning: It's Football Season

Or it will be, officially, in a few weeks. I live for football season. While it is bittersweet--football means the end of summer, and thus, the beginning of a new school year--there's nothing like watching my teams on the gridiron again.

Nebraska Cornhuskers. New Orleans Saints. On Saturday I bleed scarlet and cream with my Nebraska family and friends. On Sunday, my husband and I join (albeit remotely right now) the black and gold Who Dat Nation. I watch pre-game shows. Postgame. (Who the heck decided it's a good idea to interview coaches as they're running off the field at halftime, by the way? Ridiculous.) I yell at the tv, and though I've never thrown anything, I have been known to swear. Loudly. I tweet with fellow Saints fans during the game. I read stats and watch interviews during the week. I might be obsessed--ok, I am.

Oh, I'm female? I can't really know about a sport I haven't played? Sorry, that argument doesn't hold water anymore. Women make up almost 50% of the NFL's viewership right now, and I can tell you, those women are watching for the game, not for the player with the best tight end. Especially the Who Dat Divas. You don't mess with those women--they know their football! (The same can be said of women Husker fans--we've been raised on it!)

So, if I bow out of something this fall, it's nothing personal. I have a game to watch. You're always welcome to join me--but you've been warned!

"We're all mad here..."

Over the past several weeks, the Chesire Cat's words have been repeating over and over in my head. It truly seems as if the world has gone crazy. The Supreme Court's nonsensical ruling in the Hobby Lobby case. The shooting down of the Malaysian airliner in Ukraine. The devastating ongoing conflict between Israel and Palestine. The daily reports of gun violence in the U. S. The frightening increase in violent misogynistic attacks on women. The list goes on and on.  Most days, I just want to crawl back under the covers and hide. I want to be done with humanity.

And apparently I'm not the only one. A couple of days ago, author Neil Gaiman posted this on Twitter:

Feeling absolutely helpless in the face of the madness and violence of the world. I'm making things up to keep sane. I'm in control there.
— Neil Gaiman (@neilhimself) July 24, 2014

As Gaiman is doing, we each need to find our way to stay sane in the face of madness.  I'm lucky to have a network of friends and family around me to keep me grounded and pull me out the muck when I'm sinking.

However, at the same time, we also have to confront the madness. I read; I stay informed; I try to do little things to make a change in my immediate surroundings. It's not easy. Hatred has deep roots, and, like most weeds, doesn't go away the first time you pull it up. Often it comes back with a vengeance. But if we give up, say what's happening elsewhere doesn't affect us, we allow those weeds to flourish. We are all part of humanity. We are all responsible for what happens. We have to speak up. We don't have to change the world by ourselves. But if we can affect just one person's life for the better, we're on the right path.

Rabbit Hole #1

When I read, I feel very much like Alice going down the rabbit hole. As my family can attest to, I can become lost for hours in a book, everything else falling away as I chase my characters through time and space on their adventures. It's been this way as long as I can remember.

And I read. A lot, according to some people; not enough, according to me. Right now my average is four books a month. Generally two of those are books for the book clubs I belong to, which leaves the other two for my own tastes. Sometimes I can squeeze in an extra one or two; once in a while, a book will bog me down (I'm looking at you, Tolstoy). I'm also the type of person who HAS to finish a work. I know others who can walk away, but I just don't seem to be able to do it. 

So these posts are going to hit on some of the pieces I've been reading. I won't go over all of them, so if you see a title listed off to the right that sounds interesting, and you want to know more about it, feel free to ask about it in the comments.

The Circle by Dave Eggers

I've liked Eggers' work since I read his Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, primarily because no two pieces are the same. The Circle is a modern day dystopia, centered around a tech company named, of course, The Circle. The Circle has taken over all of the current tech companies we now know--Google, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Amazon, etc.--and merged them. Their headquarters consists of several glass-walled buildings creating a "campus" for its employees. Eventually, their employees don't need to leave, and don't want to leave, the campus for anything. The Circle's ultimate goal is the complete transparency and interconnectedness of everything and everyone on the planet. It's a modern 1984, very fast-paced, and a bit unnerving to read, as most of the technology is already available. 

Murder, Mayhem, and the Invention of The Great Gatsby by Sarah Churchwell

Disclaimer: I love Gatsby. Absolutely love it. Yes, it has its flaws, but it is one of my top five books of all time and has always been my favorite book to teach. (Ask any of my students--I go a little nuts about Fitzgerald and the 20s.) I actually stumbled upon this book by accident during a Barnes and Noble venture. Churchwell connects some of the events in Gatsby (although loosely) to an actual murder that took place in New Jersey during the time Fitzgerald was living in Long Island. She also discusses a lot of the sources for some of the symbolism and characters in the novel. Of course I had heard of a lot of them, but some were new. It was a refreshing take on a topic I know fairly well. She also includes great lists on 1920s slang terms, which we should definitely bring back! If you've read Devil in the White City by Erik Larsen, this is a similar text, and worth your time.

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

Ah, poor Anna. Where to begin. This is by far my least favorite work that I've read this summer, probably because it was nothing like I was expecting. I assumed that the 750 page novel would be about Anna Karenina and her tragic love affair with Count Vronsky. No...that encompassed only about 250 pages. And after her death, she only receives about another two pages of mention--50 pages after she dies! The rest of the novel deals with other characters and the state of nineteenth century Russia, Russian politics, the state of peasants in Russia, the state of religion in Russian, Russian society, etc. Even the section that deals with Anna turns her in to a horrible shrew of a woman, when she is trying to live the best she can within the circumstances she finds herself in. I know, what was I expecting from a 19th century Russian novel written by a man? Maybe Dr. Zhivago ruined me for Russian novels.

This is George Lucas' library at Skywalker ranch. Someday....

Thelma's Cross Country Observations--The Trip Back

I hate leaving New Orleans. Absolutely hate it. And it's getting harder each time because of the wonderful friends we're making there. But more on that in a bit.

Mississippi, thank you once again for being so beautiful to drive through. I could have done with a few less vultures circling the skies, though. When there aren't many cars on the highway, it's a bit unnerving. I also didn't need to get more mosquito bites standing INSIDE a Burger King waiting for my food than I did traipsing around the Myrtle's Plantation last night searching for ghosts (I really wish I was being hyperbolic).

**A Mississippi note from the drive down: I'm sure the people in Batesville are very nice, but I won't ever be renting a hotel room there. When your main industry is a casket company, I'd be too worried Norman and his mother would be running the hotel. Sorry.

Louisiana, you didn't fail to give me one last smile as we left the state. I had no idea there was a Transylvania, Louisiana. I have to find a way to go to the Transylvania Baptist Church next time (how could you not?!?).

Arkansas, you redeemed yourself. No offense, but your eastern side is rather boring. Today's journey was absolutely gorgeous. We do need to talk about a couple of things, though. First, your choice of names: who comes up with Toad Suck Park?!? Nasty. And what in the world does one see at a Walmart museum? And a Vampire face lift would be what, exactly? 

Missouri, your western side is not nearly as beautiful as your eastern side (although it doesn't have the billboards). Being this close to Kansas, though, I can understand why you may not want to ruffle feathers--they're a little crazy over there (my friends and family in Kansas, you know there's truth in that!).

Back to New Orleans, and traveling in general. Talk to people. Learn about the places you're visiting from the people who actually live there. Don't be afraid to step outside of your comfort zone because the best experiences happen in those moments. While we were in New Orleans, we listened to fabulous music, ate great food (some prepared by our friend, James Cullen, the chef at Treo in Mid-City. Definitely put it on your list if you're heading down there!). We hung out at dive bars drinking and talking to incredible people. It was amazing and completely relaxing.

To James, Rylan, John, Meloney, Louie, Kristen, and Ashlee--thank you for making our trip. (Margaret, Collin, and Tracy--we will catch you next time!) We will see y'all very soon!!

Thelma's Cross-Country Observations Day Two

Being from Nebraska, I'm used to road-kill on the interstate: deer, raccoon, skunk, even the occasional coyote. Armadillo? That's a new one for me.

Mississippi was a nice rest on the eyes after the onslaught of billboards in Missouri yesterday. Loved all of the trees. Did not like the rock chip in my windshield you gave me in the construction zone through Jackson, though. Where's the Southern hospitality?!?

Then Louisiana. You are the very definition of shabby chic. You have such rough edges, have been beaten down by everything man and nature could throw at you, and yet you are still beautiful (I'm just talking about the state in general. New Orleans takes everything up still another notch.) And then the WATER!!!! Sorry, Nebraska. I love you, but you just don't have enough of it for me. From swamps and bayous, to spillways and causeways, to lakes and rivers, there's enough water to make this island-born, water-sign baby smile for years.

And now, my beloved New Orleans--ma coeur. My home for the next few days. Hot, yes. Humid, yes. Full of life, music, unimaginable food and experiences, yes. Full of tragedy and hard times even today, yes. But full of a spirit that keeps it thriving, keeps it living, keeps me coming back.

Makes turning 40 a little less difficult. How could it not?

Thelma's Cross-country Observations Day 1

Missouri takes forever to drive through. Seriously, of the twelve hours I spent on the road today, nine of them were in Missouri. Luckily, most of the state has beautiful scenery, so it wasn't a horrible drive.

Observations about the people of Missouri (based solely on the plethora of billboards I saw): they're right-wing fundamentalist Christians who like to blow things up (either with fireworks or guns), frequent adult establishments, and love to eat BBQ. Oh, and really want legalized marijuana.

Arkansas, you're not helping your image if the first thing people see upon entering your state is a sign stating: "Speed limits strictly enforced. NO TOLERANCE." All it does it start the theme song from Deliverance playing in people's heads!

Elvis waved as I passed through Memphis; he wanted me to tell y'all hello!

Missing Maya

 "You are the sum total of everything you've ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot - it's all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive."

- Interview with Maya Angelou from the April 2011 edition of O, the Oprah Magazine (2011)

Twitter and Facebook have been filled with reminiscences, tributes, quotes, pictures, and interviews of Maya Angelou since she passed away this week--much too soon. I was heartbroken to learn that my niece and I were not going to be able to hear her speak in Omaha in two weeks. I wanted Alexis to be able to hear the woman, the force of nature, that was Dr. Angelou. 

Maya Angelou has been an inspiration and a mentor of sorts to me since I was sixteen. Even though I never had the opportunity to meet her, her words to a youth assembly in Dallas in 1991 have stayed with me. Hearing her speak about her early childhood, her rape, her decision to stop speaking, her love for books and knowledge, all created a spark in me that I've carried throughout the years. Even though I, a white girl from small town Nebraska, could never truly understand what a black woman from Stamps, Arkansas, had gone through, her words changed something in me. 

Between Dr. Angelou's passion and an inspirational senior English teacher, I soon knew that I wanted to share those emotions with others. I need students to know that there is so much more than their little corner of Nebraska, that the world can only truly be understood through a wide variety of experiences, even if those experiences can only be read about. I hope in some small way I've done that by sharing my love of books, my own experiences, and my travels with my classes. 

I know there is no possible way that I could ever accomplish all that the amazing Maya did in her lifetime. All I can hope is that maybe, in some small way, I can have an impact on others as she did on me.