Apology
(upon vsiting the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, TN)
On behalf of those
like me, who I never knew
I'm sorry
ancestors felt blows
of shame upon their skin's hue
I'm sorry
their lives paid the price
from auction to cotton bale
I'm sorry
freedom was a jail
Jim Crow guarded like a vice
I'm sorry
color divided
dreams deferred and dreams attained
I'm sorry
hatred grew ingrained
where it seemed all hope had fled
I'm sorry
Rosa was seated
in the back, silent as the dark
I'm sorry
Rage kindled a spark
afire, while mothers bleated
I'm sorry
for churches charred
alive, cheering its demise
I'm sorry
there were few allies
when ballot boxes were barred
I'm sorry
for the shot across
the street, and the Compass fell
I'm sorry
dreadful journeys tell
of what could have been is lost.
7/29/11
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Ohio
Ohio
She wears an apron of quilted pastures
pucntuated by buildings so high.
She thinks it's unusually natural
to have cornstalks reach to the sky.
In between more famous neighbors she sits
squashed by mountains, rivers and lakes
Yet across the seasons she quietly knits
history and heartbreak within her stakes.
She keeps a (buck) eye on her children
despite valley fog or factory smoke..
Whether her windows are screened or torn
She wraps them in God's loving cloak.
She may not have diamonds in the sky
Her face and words may appear too plain
She will be a friend without asking why
and her actions will never be in vain.
7/24/11
(driving on I-71 toward Cincinnati)
She wears an apron of quilted pastures
pucntuated by buildings so high.
She thinks it's unusually natural
to have cornstalks reach to the sky.
In between more famous neighbors she sits
squashed by mountains, rivers and lakes
Yet across the seasons she quietly knits
history and heartbreak within her stakes.
She keeps a (buck) eye on her children
despite valley fog or factory smoke..
Whether her windows are screened or torn
She wraps them in God's loving cloak.
She may not have diamonds in the sky
Her face and words may appear too plain
She will be a friend without asking why
and her actions will never be in vain.
7/24/11
(driving on I-71 toward Cincinnati)
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Real Pressure
It's important to keep in perspective what is entertaining and what is important.
Over the past week here in Rochester we have had soccer-mania. The US Women's Soccer team was competing in the World Cup, and Abby Wambach is from our area. Yes, she is the one who really used her 'head' to help the US get into the semifinals and the finals. After each victory, the sportswriters, from near and far, talked about the 'pressure' the US team was under to proceed to the next round. They were under pressure to win a World Cup, since the last one was in 1999. They were under 'pressure' to do well for our country (we love a winner). They were under 'pressure' to win since this might be the last time many of them will play together for the US.
Hmmm...pressure...pressure...pressure...
Now, if you ask anyone who knows me, I am quite the sports fan. I am in awe of athletic ability that I will never possess that breaks the laws of physics. I am a shameless 'homer' when it comes to local sports teams. I am an armchair strategist and Monday morning critic. And the word 'pressure' gets bandied about in sports as if the world will stop on its axis if a player shows to be merely human and doesn't make the big play at the time it was needed most.
But if you want to know what real 'pressure' is, how ' bout a firefighter trudging his / her way into a burning building to save a crying child? Or a surgeon about to operate on the tiny heart of a newborn infant? Or a teacher facing a class of kids that everyone else has given up on?
If we really pay attention, we will see heroics every day.
Over the past week here in Rochester we have had soccer-mania. The US Women's Soccer team was competing in the World Cup, and Abby Wambach is from our area. Yes, she is the one who really used her 'head' to help the US get into the semifinals and the finals. After each victory, the sportswriters, from near and far, talked about the 'pressure' the US team was under to proceed to the next round. They were under pressure to win a World Cup, since the last one was in 1999. They were under 'pressure' to do well for our country (we love a winner). They were under 'pressure' to win since this might be the last time many of them will play together for the US.
Hmmm...pressure...pressure...pressure...
Now, if you ask anyone who knows me, I am quite the sports fan. I am in awe of athletic ability that I will never possess that breaks the laws of physics. I am a shameless 'homer' when it comes to local sports teams. I am an armchair strategist and Monday morning critic. And the word 'pressure' gets bandied about in sports as if the world will stop on its axis if a player shows to be merely human and doesn't make the big play at the time it was needed most.
But if you want to know what real 'pressure' is, how ' bout a firefighter trudging his / her way into a burning building to save a crying child? Or a surgeon about to operate on the tiny heart of a newborn infant? Or a teacher facing a class of kids that everyone else has given up on?
If we really pay attention, we will see heroics every day.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Witamy!
OK, so my other blog got lost in cyberspace somehow (with all my musings on Howard Gardner) so here is Chapter 2. It is called Second Language because I am now 'bilingual' in speech pathology and teaching English as a second language. It is also called that because learning requires a second language to change what I have told myself about the world. Sometimes it stays as old wisdom, sometimes it gets recycled, and sometimes I am speechless. (not often, as many will attest). So not only is this to be a blog about teaching, but learning as well. Please visit and feel free to contribute what you have 'learned'.
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