Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Ayyam-i-Ha Surprise
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Auntie's Questions Birth More
At Auntie L's blog she links to her hero who she thinks is also a real cool guy. I think the guy is pretty cool, too. Although, God knows, we have had our differences over the years and will have them in the future, all in all what makes him pretty remarkable is that he attended public school, yet it never prevented him from not only asking questions but asking whatever questions he feels needs to be asked.
Ban the CAM and instead have each 16 year old make a list of 20 questions he still doesn't know the answers to but thinks he should in order to have a productive life. When he finds the answer to those 20 questions then he has graduated high school and can start college/university or vo-tech school.
Self-motivated learning, keeps them involved, its their life let them pick the questions that matter to them. I think one of the reason's why there are question askers among the publickers (what we call those who remain in the public school system) is they're the ones that maybe they were skippers, tokers, drinkers or daydreamers. Whatever, they weren't paying attention when others were being told which questions they were permitted to ask, which they weren't and when it was appropriate to ask them. Consequentially, they thought they could make their own decisions, take chances on sticking their foot in their mouth and plow ahead! Really ticks some people off, this propensity to ask questions without proper authorization. It could be dangerous to one's health so note the advisory before continuing to do so.
For 2005 the graduation rates are: Astoria 77%; Knappa 85.7%; Jewell has an 84.6; Seaside 95.3%; Vernonia 82%; and Warrenton 84%.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Phenomenal Women
Maya Angelou, of course, in my book a phenomenal woman. Her poetry I began reading when I was in seventh or eighth grade after I read her book, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. A few grades later, as a sophmore in high school, a teacher sucked that love out of me. A Ms. Snyder taught me to sneer at poetry. She showed that there "really" was only one way to appreciate poems and that was to "understand" them as she did. I dutifully regurgitated what she taught, got an "A" in her class (yes, I still have the poetry journal with the "A" in it) and because back then hadn't yet learned the proper way to express dismay at authority, promptly cut off my own nose to spite my face and refused to enjoy poetry for decades.
Fishing through a box of books I came upon, And Still I Rise. OH! I know this friend! And I began to read, devouring line by line.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
This imagery fills me with so much.
From Momma Welfare Rolls:
Too fat to whore,
Too mad to work,
Searches her dreams for the
Lucky sign and walks bare-handed
Into a den of bereaucrats for
Her portion.
'They don't give me welfare.
I take it.'
I like that! I may have a lot of problems with the state and welfare system, but I like this woman going for what she figures is her due. Why is it her due? Because ...
and because ... and because ...
Then from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings:
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
Powerful poem from a woman who can make you feel a part of her life, of her race, of her pain. And finally, if you try hard enough, you can feel a part of her sex and beauty:
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Maya Angelou
I am stronger for having read these words. I am nobler for having known her life. A part of her became a part of me, making me a better person.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Holding ourselves back
In recognizing that failing these people raised up a generation of children who now are relatives to all those who were once thought people to be conquered or subdued. My cousins are Carribean Indians from the Dominican Republic. I have stood next to them as they were called nigger. I have cousins who are the Indians who are being shot at as they try to exercise their right to fish. I have cousins who are the Japanese who wonder how we just stood there and let the government take other Americans land just because their eyes looked different. I have children who are Hispanic and wonder why we allowed their grandparents to be kidnapped and railroaded into a native country. I have cousins who are not only Jewish but every single one of God’s religions.
To understand the feelings that each minority race, tradition or religion has gone through is beyond our ability to empathize. What we can do is acknowledge the pain that has been suffered is pain suffered on behalf of all of humanity, on behalf of each us, in the painful process of rebirth into a global civilization.
When we become we, is when we well have truly progressed. When the Japanese internment camps become our collective acknowledged shame; when the Holocaust becomes our collective acknowledged horror, when the annihilation of the Indians becomes our colective anger, when the acknowledgement of the economic sacrifice of the African slaves becomes our dearest wish for reparation then we will recognize we are one humanity, with lots of differences, incredible and wonderful and intense, differences.
But, for now, we are nowhere near sharing the suffering and the pain. Some of the people who are suffering right now for their cultures/religions that have been the subject of severe discriminatory practices are the Bahá'ís in Iran, where a program of extermination has been ordered by the government. Bahá'ís are not allowed to marry, own property, go to school or have jobs in most sectors. The reason for this is that the Iranian Government regards the Bahá'í Faith as a misguided or wayward Islamic sect with a political orientation that is antagonistic to the Iranian revolution. However, Bahá'ís view themselves as an independent religion with origins in the Shi'ite Islamic tradition. Apostasy, specifically conversion from Islam, can be punishable by death. Bahá'ís are considered apostates because of their claim to a valid religious revelation subsequent to that of Mohammed, despite the fact that Bahá'ís do not consider themselves to be Muslim. The Bahá'í Faith is defined by the Iranian government as a political "sect," linked to the Shah’s regime and, therefore, counterrevolutionary. All of this is according to a report compiled by our own government. In 1993 the UNSR reported the existence of an Iranian government policy directive pertaining to the Bahá'ís. The directive lays out the design for the Supreme Revolutionary Council, who instructed government agencies to block the progress and development of the Baha'i community; expel Baha'i students from universities; cut Bahá'í links with groups outside the country; restrict employment of Bahá'ís, and deny Bahá'ís "positions of influence," including in education. The report also stated that Bahá'ís must be expelled from universities, either in the admission process or during the course of their studies, once it becomes known that they are Bahá'ís. They may not teach or practice their faith or maintain links with co-religionists abroad. The fact that the Bahá'í world headquarters (established by the founder of the Baha'i Faith in the 19th century, in what was then Ottoman-controlled Palestine) is situated in what is now the state of Israel, exposes Bahá'ís to government charges of "espionage on behalf of Zionism," in particular when caught communicating with or sending monetary contributions to the Baha'i headquarters. The Iranian government is persistent that until the Bahá'ís have been annihilated and all traces of the Faith obliterated from the land they will not stop with their ongoing harassment of the religion.
The Human Rights Watch have reported that in China the government has persuaded the Bush administration that a little known Uighur exile group, the East Turkistan Islamic Movement, was responsible for terrorist acts and belonged on America's list of leading terrorist threats. The isolated terrorist acts have been used to justify a wholesale crackdown on its Uighur Muslim population, including intensive political vetting of imams, surveillance inside mosques and screening of literature and poetry for even vague hints of dissent.
The Somali Bantu are descended from six African tribes and in the 1700's and 1800's Arab slave traders armed with muskets and whips plundered these regions. These slave traders captured untold numbers of men, women, and children to be sold on the Zanzibar slave market and shipped to the Persian Gulf and the Middle East. The few Somali Bantu now left have been driven away from Africa entirely because of the persecution and violence. Returning to Somalia with any reasonable expectation of a life of freedom and security is not possible.
There are countless others throughout the world. On every continent, almost every country has a group of people that they have chosen to arbitrarily persecute, giving everyone someone on whom to blame the problems of society.
While we are progressing to some degrees, in that we are able to watch ourselves and acknowledge these follies, until we are able to accept the fact that we are all one race, the human race and the people that we are harassing and harming, is us we will make little steps forward only to be dragged back, over and over, like an elastic band snagged on the nail of prejudice.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Tribal Lands:Doing What's Right and Figuring Out What That Means
Much is the same with our local Indian tribes. Many supposed land sales in which a few supposedly bartering on behalf of a whole nation, or a clan on behalf of a whole tribe all the while selling lands at a mere fraction of its worth or the sale of the land is still considered justified even when the rest of the treaty has not been honored.
A while back it was proposed that the local tribes step forward to assert their claim to the property that is now being proposed as a site of the LNG holding terminals. I think we see, over and over again, how dishonor is rewarded by further dishonor. We steal and in turn the land is stolen from us, we then wish that the original land owners would fight to get their land back.
If we want to protect the land from the LNG corporations we can, indeed, fight to restore these lands to their indigenous owners, and I would hope we would honorably continue the fight to see that they are federally recognized and their lands permanantly preserved. I wonder if that is something we would really do, locally?
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Happy Birthday to our Pal
The anniversary of my grandmother, Beatrice Fern Canaris Woods' birthday was today. Born in 1912, grandma saw this nation go through many, many changes from travel by horse and carriage to travel to the stars. From women not allowed to vote to a woman being governor of Oregon. From war, to war, to war, to war. From weapons of the British MLE (which we both shot but called the 303) to the nuclear bomb, my grandmother watched humankind love one another and destroy one another for ninety-two years and when she left this world she had grandchildren and great-grandchildren from every corner of it.
She was born in the Eloquiem Valley. Her mother was a Matthews from Michigan whose parents hailed from Mariposa Canada. Her father was a Canaris born in Clatskanie. His parents were John and Elizabeth. Elizabeth was from England. John was from a small town in Westphalia, Prussia. At the outbreak of WWII grandmother's brothers were not allowed to fight against the Germans because of who they were, cousins to Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, so they had to fight against the Japanese. For a few years "they" were "japs". The Germans were "jerrys". My mother's name is Jerry, and my brother lives in Japan with his Japanese wife and their children. Internationally, grandma never taught to hold grudges and she encouraged apologies to be asked for and granted.
My grandmother was quite proud of her "cousin's" role in saving lives in WWII as well as the way he died. We do not know that he was her cousin. The army may have been playing it safe for anyone with certain names during war time. Both Canaris families lived in Westphalia in the early-mid 1880s. My grandmother certainly was as closed mouthed and secretive as a spy, however, and could certainly shoot like someone well trained.
She was quite an angry person, maybe almost bitter about some areas of her life. She didn't trust anyone between the ages of 13-18! Once they were over that age they became her friend again. She alluded to being molested or raped and then being laughed at or disbelieved by her siblings and cousins. Maybe that age group? We will never know, now, I think. She loved long letters and wrote eloquently and well with beautiful handwriting. For years she worked at Utzinger's book store and that was her heyday!
Everyone knew her as quite the lady. Always well coifed (she had two children who were beauticians) with long elegant fingers always bejeweled. We all knew we got our best swearing combos from grandma. She never said "the" four letter word. She said a variety of ones we never hear anywhere but from her. "Ah, go piss up a slack rope" was one of her favorite expressions. One of the funniest things she would say, but she would say it when she was really, really irate, "see that tree, buster? Will, go climb it!" And then she would would make a fist with her right hand and twist it while thrusting it up into the air. She would nod her head while she did it. Grandpa would shake his head and say, "Ah, Bea! Why'd you go and do that?" I never understood what that particular phrase or gesture meant.
Personally, I was impressed with her audacity to speak her own mind even in the day and time when that wasn't so popular. She gave up being an Eastern Star when she became a Baha'i and took quite a bit of flak for that. When some Baha'is were upset with her new, black Dominican, grandson, she took them on, too, with equal determination. Trying, in her own way, to show zenophobia for what it was. Just because some people said they were Baha'is it didn't mean they were necessarily ready to embrace all of its principles or laws. She, too, had much to learn about this religion she had newly embraced and was often at the forefront of study classes and deepenings. I have her Baha'i library and so many of the books have her handwriting throughout it, pencilling in the definition of words as well as her understanding of concepts. Sometimes another explanation would appear in another color of ink and would be another understanding of the text. She was a member of the first Spiritual Assembly of the Baha'is of Clatsop County and was its librarian for the next twenty years or so. She contributed books around the world and her slipper pattern was taught to rural women in India to help them overcome the devastation of the legacy of being of the caste of Untouchables.
Man, that woman could weild a mean pair of knitting needles and crochet hook. Not only the best slippers but also the finest afghans, kitchen towel toppers and cotton wash cloths! She taught me how to knit and crochet and I am the only one that I know of that knits with my hands over the top of the knitting needles instead of from underneath. We've wondered if some of these pecularities could have come from Canada? Or maybe from Prussia? Her father's mother stayed with the family when grandma was young but her mother never spoke of her Matthew's family. She said it was hinted that the Michigan family was not happy that Hattie had married the farmer from Clatskanie.
Grandma died when she was 92. My husband and my daughter sang her into the next world, holding her hand at Columbia Memorial Hospital. Then, my husband left the room and my daughter began the ritual of washing her body, preparing her for the coffin. Always before, I was the one that prepared the body for burial. Baha'is do not embalm and if refrigeration is not available must be buried within 24 hours. We wash our own people and then rub rose oil into their skin. Grandma was the first person Katrina had ever prepared, and she did so all by herself as my husband stood outside of the hostpital room and chanted the Tablet of Ahmad, over and over. Katrina washed Grandma Bea and rubbed the oils in from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, taking over an hour and one half to complete. So much love from a great-grand-daughter to the grand dame. With love, Grandma, with love. We miss you. We know this next adventure is the best one yet, pal! Thank-you for the memories.