Category Archives: this i believe

“We have nothing to fear from love and commitment”

The State of New York voted down the gay marriage bill yesterday. By a vote of 38 to 24. There are 32 Democrats. Somehow I am not too surprised. Not because I am familiar with the NY political scene, but lately people have been letting me down. I am losing faith. (Don’t worry. This is supposed to be an inspiring post!)

Tea Parties.

Townhall crazies.

Birthers.

People who don’t know that you CANNOT be a Nazi AND a Communist at the same time.

Sarah Palin’s book, on the New York Times Bestseller list.

The fact that now I can remember Rush Limbaugh with fondness. Ah, the good old days before I was made aware of the existence of one Glenn Beck.

Glenn Beck.

I found the panacea for my doom and gloom as far as humanity is concerned today: Senator Diane Savino, a Democrat from Staten Island. Or rather, since we all should be wary of blind hero worship: we learned of her strong position on one issue today, and I plan to reserve my full-throttle love affair with her until I have a chance to know more about her other political beliefs and standings. But I will say this:

I am absolutely in love with her speech at the New York Senate floor yesterday defending the rights of gay people to be legally married.

The video of her speech is turning into the latest, hottest Internet Meme as I write. At least in the parts of the cyber world that I wander. People were elated to witness an impassioned speech explaining why voting YES to gay marriage is the right thing to do, that is at the same time rational, humorous, engaging, and moving. Perhaps the defeat in the State of New York is not for naught. Here is the silver lining: a plainspoken, easy to understand, relatable argument, from a Roman Catholic nonetheless.

* Like a dork, I sat down, listened to her while frantically trying to type down her words. So I can read them again. So I can read them out loud to anybody who would listen. Like a great Jon Stewart episode that speaks volumes of truth amidst the laughter. The transcripts for the highlights of her 7-minute speech is after the jump. IF you don’t feel like watching the video, or perhaps you disagree (and if so, I appreciate your staying around), please do read the highlights. I typed them out for you, my imaginary friends!

On the fundamental of the gay marriage bill:

“This vote is not about politics. It is not about democratic politics, or republican politics…

This vote is not about an issue of politics. This vote is about an issue of fairness and equality, not political. It is the fairness of two people, who are of the right age, of sound mind, who choose to live together, share everything together, and want to have the same protection that the government granted those of us who have the privilege of marriage and treated it so cavalierly in our society.”

On how she helped someone else see her point:

At 3:09, Senator Savino tells the story about her encounter with a stranger who stuck his head inside her car and asked her whether she was going to vote YES, and why. She reminding him that they could, as a matter of fact, go and get married at the city hall the next day, and nobody would question the quality of their relationship. Their commitment to the marriage.

“Do you think we are ready for that kind of commitment?”

The man saw her point.

On the role of the government as far as marriage is concerned:

“We in the government do not determine the quality or the validity of people’s relationships. If we did, we would not issue three quarters of the marriage license we do.”

On “what we are really protecting”

“Let me ask you something ladies and gentlemen, what are we really protecting?”

“Turn on the television. We have a wedding channel on cable TV devoted to the behavior of people on their way to the altar. They spend billions of dollars, behave in the most appalling way, all in an effort to be princess for a day. You don’t have cable television? Put on network TV. We’re giving away husbands on a game show. You can watch The Bachelor, where thirty desperate women will compete to marry a 40-year-old man who has never been able to maintain a decent relationship in his life. We have The Bachelorette in reverse… That’s what we’ve done to marriage in America, where young women are socialized from the time they’re five years old to think of being nothing but a bride. They plan every day what they’ll wear, how they’ll look, the invitations, the whole bit, they don’t spend five minutes thinking about what it means to be a wife. People stand up there before god and man even in Senator Diaz’s church, they swear to love, honor and obey, they don’t mean a word of it. And so if there’s anything wrong, or any threat to the sanctity of marriage in America, it comes from those of us who have the privilege and the right, and we have abused it for decades.”

The powerful conclusion that should be the rallying cry for the march:

“We have nothing to fear. We have nothing to fear from people who are committed to each other. who want to share their lives, and protect one another, in the event of sickness, illness or death.

We have nothing to fear from love and commitment.”

Update: Andrew Sullivan over at The Atlantic explained what I called the “silver lining” a lot more eloquently, with more punch (which is expected since I am not a writer but a stream-of-consciousness-typer-aka-excuse-for-illogical/bad-writing). And I am loving it too. There is hope, peeps. There is hope.

“[E]very time this question is thoroughly debated, and each time we put ourselves, our dignity and our families on the line, we win even if we lose… Civil rights movements always move forward by occasionally moving backward. And at each moment in the struggle, those unpersuaded watch us, how we respond, who we are. Anger and sadness are more than legitimate responses. But so are calm and confidence.” Andrew Sullivan

Update: I found a blog whose host took the time out to transcribe the entire speech. Amazing!

Towards a Discussion of Religious Pluralism with a First Grader. Gingerly.

Seriously. This is how I feel every Saturday now...

Seriously. I fear this is true.

Scene 1

On our way home in the car, the 11 year-old lodged an official complaint against his younger brother for embarassing him in school: He talks about God too much. He said things like, “God created everything” in daily, random conversations, without prompting. On top of that, he also sometimes sports a British accent, according to his older brother, “Like Charlie and Lola!”

(Trying very hard not to laugh out loud since both kids were visibly upset).

“People don’t talk that way. It is rude. You can’t assume that the person believes in what YOU believe in.”

“He was telling Miss [Babysitter] about the Ten Commandments!”

“Well,” I attempted to smooth things out, “Miss [Babysitter] is probably not offended. At any rate, it is very possible she is Catholic since her family moved from Poland when she was in high school.”

“Isn’t it rude to assume?” Once again, he got me right then and there.

He was so indignant. Mr. Monk, my 6-year-old, started wailing. “I DID NOT! And why can’t I tell her about the Ten Commandments? She knows about them too!”

At the same time I was proud that we must be doing something right bringing up my oldest, I also felt panic. Surely my youngest is confused as hell. If we insist on him going to Religious Ed every Saturday morning, why can’t he talk about what he has learned there? And if there are people that do not believe in Jesus and God as taught in Religious Ed, for example, Mommy Heathen here, why does he have to believe? Of course, these were questions swarming inside my head as I sped home since the radio cranked up way high was not enough to drone out Mr. Monk’s indignant sobbing. He himself has not asked me those questions yet. Not that day. But they did come way sooner than I had expected.

Seriously? What kind of 6-year-old discusses religious pluralism with their parents?

Scene 2

“Why do people that were not baptized NOT believe in the same god as people that were baptized?”

The questions came. They came fast and furious. We were going to bed. Supposed to.

Not knowing how to answer this question, I decided to take the literal approach:

“Honey, you know that Muslims and the Jewish people believe in the same god that you do. [I am assuming he does for the convenience of having a conversation with him that would actually get us somewhere…] The main difference is that they do not believe that Jesus is the savior.”

Did I say it right? Is Jesus Christ the savior? I was sure I pulled that line out from one of the Christmas carols.

“Do you believe Jesus Christ is the savior?”

“No.” I said without hesitation.

I never talk down to my children. I made a conscious decision when I was pregnant with my first born and one day, all of a sudden, I realized just how heavy that burden is, to be responsible for another human being’s moral upbringing.

He turned away from me. I could see his shoulders heaving. He was quietly sobbing.

Oh my god. Was he fearing for my soul? Finally he turned to look at me in the eyes, very seriously, too serious for a 6 year old.

“Do you want me to learn that Jesus Christ is the savior? That GOD created the world?”

I explained that since his father is Catholic, and I am not, I would prefer that his father talks to him about this subject.

“No.” He said emphatically.  “I want to know whether YOU want me to learn about this.”

I started to explain why we decided to have them baptized and have them attend Religious Ed: Moral upbringing. It takes a village.

Growing up, I was never religious yet deep down I understood the expectations of me to be good. To do good. Karma. Reincarnation. It was never explicitly taught, but I knew. Everyone of us knew. It is embedded in the culture. I am certainly not suggesting Asian societies/cultures are more moral. Ha. Far from it. My theory is that the subtle permeation in daily life of the implicit belief in Karma, in What goes around, comes around, in you do reap what you sow, makes it easier to conform to a certain moral code without an explicit religious upbringing.

My husband and I were alone in the city. Far away from any “villages” that we could count on as a moral foundation for our children. We thought, Catholic Church! Besides, my husband went through the whole Religious Ed ordeal ritual thing and he turned out fine, it just seemed a natural conclusion to draw.

“I don’t need you to learn about God, which god, I am not sure. You will have to make your own decision when you grow up. But right now, I want to make sure that you can learn right from wrong. That you will know to do the right thing when we are not around.”

With a stroke of genius, I used Spiderman as an example to explain Karma.

“Remember when Peter Parker let the robber go because he was mad at the man for cheating him out of his winnings, but later the robber killed his uncle?”

I think he got it. I hope he got it. He turned his back towards me again. Silence. But I could tell from his breathing that he was not falling asleep. It was almost midnight. My child with an old soul…

“Are you worried that mommy may go to hell?”

“Not really. I don’t know.” His voice was calm.

I told him about how when his broher was his age, he came home one day after Religious Ed and asked us, “Are you and daddy going to hell?” Apparently the teacher had told him that his parents would be going to hell if they (we) don’t go to mass every Sunday.

“That was awful!” He commented. He did not sound traumatized. THAT. Seemed to be all I could have asked for that night.

How much do you tell your children when they are so young? Too little, you are sheltering them. Too much, you are burdening them. I decided I would make my one last pitch and let it be. Well, as much “let it be” as I could muster as a mother.

“I want you to remember this: there are people that will use religion as an excuse to try to get you to do things that you know are not right, to beleive things that you know are wrong. Anybody, ANYBODY, that uses religion as an excuse to talk you out of thinking for yourself…”

“… is wrong?” He finished the sentence for me.

“Yes.” I sighed and gave him a hug.

“Ok. I am going to sleep now. Good night.”

Then he was sound asleep.

To Hell with keeping my mouth shut and ignoring the crazies and the ignorant…

I thought I could just comment on what has been happening to this country, specifically the latest, hottest, “meme” that is going on and making the news circuit and the blogoshpere and the twitterverse, by reminding all of us, once again, the Golden Rule. Yes, indeed, I am referring to the clever, seemingly harmless and indeed “How Christian of you”, appearances of bumper stickers that say:

“Pray for Obama: Psalm 109:8”

By now I assume most of you know what the hack I am talking about. If you are one of the fortunate ones that have been shielded from such ugliness, here is the article, “Biblical anti-Obama slogan: Use of Psalm 109:8 funny or sinister?” on none other than The Christian Science Monitor. I am also repeating the by-now-old-news-because-our-generation-suffers-from-ADD details here for my children, so they will know, when they look back one day, how FAR indeed we/they have come. Please, let it be overcome by then…

Why the debate on whether quoting Psalm is sinister? Because this is from the Old Testament, whose god is a vengeful god. Because the exact verse in Psalm 109:8 is

“Let his days be few; and let another take his office.”

Not so bad? One clearly has the right to wish Obama out of the White House as soon as possible, as argued by many, citing Freedom of Speech. Read on because Psalm 109:9, which comes after Psalm 109:8, says

“Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.”

Because, Psalm 109 is Vengeance Invoked upon Adversaries. Remember, Vengeful god.

Naturally some of the folks that gladly applied the bumper stickers, tweeted this verse, emailed it to friends and families, or even wore the t-shirts (Are you surprised that there were t-shirts made and sold already?) now claim ignorance. They did not know what comes after Psalm 109:8

And you have got to believe them. Old Testament aka the Hebrew Bible. Is it a surprise that not many Christians have read it?

More importantly, selfishly, I want to believe the claim for ignorance. I need to. Otherwise it would be extremely difficult to continue to believe in the general goodness of mankind. I don’t want to be convinced by Frank Shaeffer’s argument on TRMS that this is “trolling for assassins”, “calling for holy war”. That many are just eagerly awaiting Obama to fall into the same fate as that of Kennedy, McKinley, Garfield, and Lincoln. That it really “just takes one”.

I never liked Bush yet I had never prayed for his untimely death. Nor have I Cheney. Nor Glenn Beck. The list goes on…

I don’t even want to go down the road of pondering why Obama, in himself, incites so much fear and anger. I understand, with sorrow, that not all Americans were heart-broken when John Kennedy was assassinated. One could safely made the assumptions that the malignance (invidiousness? which negative emotion best described the frenzy?) bestowed on Obama has reached an unforeseen level of intensity.

This whole incident illustrated the dangers of quoting anything out of context and not checking the sources/references before propagating it. Another example, the ironic “Teabaggers wearing the Obamao t-shirt from China“, immediately comes to mind. Though the danger of you being mocked for not getting something is significantly reduced if you have taken care to be surrounded only by like-minded people…

It also goes to prove that Richard Dawkins (yes, THE IT atheist) is correct in advocating the mandatory studying of the bible, albeit as LITERATURE,

“The Bible as literature should be a compulsory part of the national curriculum… you can’t understand English literature and culture without it.”*

I would also like to suggest a new rule for consideration in conjunction with the suggestion above:

One shall not quote the Bible, or Shakespeare for that matter while we are on this subject, without actually reading the entire passage first.

* This is the reason why the first book of literature we were made to read in the department of Western literature was The Old Testament. Read it and weep. For so many reasons…

Bring back Thanksgiving! Please, no Christmas decorations until Black Friday…

Veterans Day.

I always thought it is a fitting coincidence that Veterans Day falls in November, right before Thanksgiving.

As you know, Veterans Day is celebrated in other parts of the world.  On November 11, 1918, at 11 am (Paris time), the Germans signed the Armistice that officially ended World War I.  The day was originally celebrated as Armistice Day (also as Remembrance Day in Europe).  In 1954, the U.S. Congress passed and amended an act to officially make November 11 the Veterans Day, honoring all veterans, and not just those who served in World War I. What took them so long?!

I don’t think I will be able to say anything more eloquently, more heartfelt, than this blog post, “The Greatest Casualty is to be Forgotten”. As she put it so well, you don‘t have to support war to support a Veteran. [Update: The blog I linked to has since become inactive. But the saying “The Greatest Casualty is to be Forgotten” will continue to resonate]

Thus begins my tirade against the demise of the significance of Thanksgiving in the face of overwhelming commercialism…

Are you ready for this?

I started campaigning for a forced postponement, a temporary deferral, of celebrating Christmas until AFTER Thanksgiving Day four years ago.  I even registered for the domain name: BringBackThanksgiving.com (which is still available… Any takers?)  I stopped paying for it after two years when I realized that with a full time job and three boys to take care of, I simply did not have the capacity to deal with Microsoft FrontPage. (Yikes. Do you remember the days, the days before Blogger, WordPress, etc. when one had to use a software such as FrontPage in order to have one’s own website? *shudder*)

“Curb your enthusiasm!” I beseech you.  “As you recover from the sugar high from all the Halloween candies.  As you dispose of the spider webs, the goblins, the mummy tombs, the rotten carved pumpkins.”

Please, oh, please don’t switch directly from Orange and Black to Red and Green.  However tempting it is when you move all the Halloween boxes down to your basement and see all the Christmas boxes beckoning at you. The smiling Santa with the chubby cheeks.  The snowman. The reindeer.  Resist the temptation: Didn’t Jesus die on the cross partly to teach us this lesson?  Be strong for the sake of your children.

The children need you to show them that, Yes, you believe in the meaning and significance of Thanksgiving Day. Yes, it is important that we take one day out to deliberately remember and show gratitude to all the people who add meanings to our lives, to all the material goods that we are blessed enough to own. To strangers who give you a smile in the street and thus brighten your day. To strangers who by merely doing their jobs are making the world a better, safer place.

My heart aches upon seeing houses adorned with Christmas lights right after, sometimes even before, Halloween.  Of course I am not intimating that the homeowners are therefore not thankful.  No siree.  I am simply dismayed that the significance of Thanksgiving, the arguably ONE holiday that we should all be able to agree on and celebrate, is undermined sandwiched between Halloween and Christmas.

(I admit: I may be putting my foot in my mouth by saying this. I have no clear idea how the native Americans take this holiday though I suspect there must be a lot of conflicting feelings. Do they sometimes wish that Squanto were not so kind as to assist the pilgrims? FWIW, by reading “Thanksgiving: A Native American View” and “Teaching About Thanksgiving“, I am convinced that Thanksgiving is indeed deeper and bigger than just the Pilgrims and the Indians… I hope I do not offend should anyone of Native American descent stops by this post…)

I blame the turkey.

You heard me right. It is the turkey’s fault. In terms of merchandising, turkeys are just not as attractive as say, bunnies, chicks, Santa Clause, snowman, reindeer, and so on.  I have not seen any child hugging a plush Turkey toy lovingly.

turkey

To be honest, that red thing hanging down the throat freaks me out.  Pardon me for being crass, but it always reminds me of testicles. I don’t know why. But it does.

Many, especially Hallmark (bless their heart!), have tried to turn the turkey into an adorable icon:  but seriously, how adorable can you make a turkey?

Turkey for eating

Even more sickening is that in these cutesy depictions of turkeys, they are all forced to celebrate the event in which they will be slaughtered, cooked and eaten! The abomination!

No cute icons, no easy way for merchandising. No easy way for merchandising, no rampant commidification of Thanksgiving. No rampant commidification of Thanksgiving, no shelf space at your local drugstores and grocery stores.

(I am grateful for no longer being in the academia which affords me the opportunity to posit theories full of holes and preaches them on the Internet with no qualms… I am like Glenn Beck on an anti-Turkey path…)

But with your help, we can stem the tide.  We can start it from inside of our homes.

Perhaps we can all start a tradition of having each one of the family members mention one thing that they are grateful for, every day, in the month of November.  No matter how small or how trivial.

Perhaps we can start a quiet movement to resist the Red and Green color scheme from popping up inside of our own houses. Until the day after Thanksgiving.

On the morning of November 27 this year, I am moving up the Christmas Tree from our basement first thing in the morning.  I am really looking forward to it. And to optimize my effort of transforming my house into a winter wonderland for Christmas, I shall keep the decorations up until after Valentine’s day. Thank goodness for the lllloooonnnngggg winter here. That is, of course, until one of you starts a campaign for bringing back Valentine’s Day…


“My parents were awesome” – The antithesis of People of Walmart

Ever since I was alerted of the existence of the website People of Walmart, I admit, I have been fascinated by the humanity found there.  The bizarre.  The weird.  The blunt un-self-consiousness.  The unrelenting in-your-face humaness.  As demonstrated not just in the people whose pictures have been stealthily taken and exhibited, but also in the amateur “photographers” who took the pictures, and in the commentators who openly expressed their disbelief, oftentimes with glee.

I admit: I stared. I gawked. I pointed. I picked up my jaw from the floor. I shook my head and lamented.

What’s wrong with these people?  What has the world come to?

Deep down though, I do feel guilty.  The guilt comes from realizing the fact that we are the voyeurs passing judgement, objectifying these people that we have marked as Other.  Elitism.  It also comes from the recognition of pure, primal, playground cruelty.  In practice, it does feel good to not be the object of ridicule. For once. I have to say. So that’s why the bullies get such a kick out of doing the things that they do? I get it now…  I think…

Funny how the universe finds its balance eventually.  Sooner or later.  In this case, it came sooner than I’d expected.  In fact, I was not even looking for a cure for People of Walmart.  POW.   (Ha. How fitting. Ok, maybe I am the only person find the acronym amusing…  What can I say? I am easily amused…)

My Parents Were Awesome.

Someone with a not-so-cynical view of the world started a Tumblr that invites all to send in pictures of their parents, reminding us that “Before the fanny packs and Andrea Bocelli concerts, your parents (and grandparents) were once free-wheeling, fashion-forward, and super awesome.”

Here is one of my favorites from the collection so far.  It is growing every day.  Though, sadly yet as expected, not at even half the speed of which POW gains its popularity (or notoriety?).

My Parents Were Awesome

Unapologetically sentimental.  An antidote for the cynicism, and frankly, the self-centeredness we children exhibit towards our parents, no matter how old we are.

Now I wonder:

What were my parents like before they were my parents?

I remember a picture of my mom wearing a super short mini skirt, with a Jakie do, skinny as hell.  She is in her 70s now, and sometimes, now looking back, I believe in her mind’s eye, she is still that young woman.  I wish I had seen that earlier.

Sorry mommy can’t come to the school, but don’t grow up and murder people ok?

I was reading the article about the so-called Craigslist Killer, Philip Markoff, in Vanity Fair, and like almost everybody, I wanted to find out, perchance through this detailed article, WHY?! Stories like this, a bright young man from a well-to-do family with a seemingly normal upbringing make people especially anxious.  If you cannot explain WHY, if the answer turns out to be a shrug of the shoulders, Well, something just snapped and he just did, then the world becomes too random for us to feel reassured.

The reporter set out to find the answers.  To reassure the readers.

Markoff’s parents were divorced.  That of course does not set him apart in this day and age.  But… how about what follows next?

“No one I spoke to in the small community remembered Markoff’s parents or step-parents participating in activities at his school or showing up very often at the local Community Activity Center, where he excelled in youth bowling leagues.”

When I read this, I was all like, WTF?!

It is not enough that I am constantly neurotic about providing my kids with as “normal” environment as I could possibly muster, being a full-time working train-commuting mother with a 9-to-5-only-if-I-say-I-give-up-of-ever-being-taken-seriously-and-why-don’t-you-just-quit-then-what-about-my-own-person-and-my-own-identity job, so now I have to worry about them growing up and becoming a crazed killer because I cannot attend their activities at school??!!

Thank you indeed for sending me off to the grandest guilt trip a mother could have ever taken.  I may never come back from this one.

“A Class Divided”: Powerful experiment on how Racism can be learned, and in 15 minutes

Some of you may know about this already, since this Frontline documentary was first aired in 1985. I have only heard about the “Blue-eyed vs. Brown-eyed” experiment done by a daring 3rd-grade teacher, but I have never actually seen the documentary until today.  Through Twitter, of course.  There is something to be said about the power of audio visual presentation.

I was impressed by the courage of the teacher, Jane Elliott, and awed by the outcome when I READ the description of what happened in those two days:

On the day after Martin Luther King Jr. was murdered in April 1968, Jane Elliott’s third graders from the small, all-white town of Riceville, Iowa, came to class confused and upset. They recently had made King their ‘Hero of the Month,’ and they couldn’t understand why someone would kill him. So Elliott decided to teach her class a daring lesson in the meaning of discrimination. She wanted to show her pupils what discrimination feels like, and what it can do to people.

Elliott divided her class by eye color — those with blue eyes and those with brown. On the first day, the blue-eyed children were told they were smarter, nicer, neater, and better than those with brown eyes. Throughout the day, Elliott praised them and allowed them privileges such as a taking a longer recess and being first in the lunch line. In contrast, the brown-eyed children had to wear collars around their necks and their behavior and performance were criticized and ridiculed by Elliott. On the second day, the roles were reversed and the blue-eyed children were made to feel inferior while the brown eyes were designated the dominant group…

But the text does not prepare you for the visceral reactions you’ll be getting when you watch the actual documentary…  I’ve got goose bumps all over me…

You can find the full 5-part program directly here and also Teachers’ Guide.

What is even more valuable as a lesson, and reminder, for all of us, even in this day and age, despite the sensationalism this documentary certainly has delivered, is what Jane Elliot said to have pushed her towards such a drastic experiment on her 3rd graders in an interview:

Yet all I could think of as I saw this attitude of sympathetic indifference develop was the way I had myself reacted to racial discrimination all these many years: Sure, an incident can anger you. Sure, you feel sorry about the way blacks are being treated. Sure, something ought to be done about it. And now, what shall we talk about?

Coda: I was surprised to learn that the small, rural, all-white community actually supported this experiment.  The parents were ok with Ms. Elliot’s unique lesson plan.  Upon further reading, the superintendent at that time was indeed under a lot of pressure to fire Jane Elliot.  He didn’t.  According to Elliot, “20 percent of the people in Riceville are still absolutely furious about what I did on April 4, 1968.” But the parents of her students never had any problem with her unique lesson plan…

It is probably the sign for the times we live in and my unrelenting cynicism.  As I was watching the video and dealing with the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts forming inside me, one part of my brain was actually thinking, and I am not proud to admit it,

“Whoa.  That took some courage for her to do that. I wonder whether she would have got herself AND the school AND the school district into a shit load of trouble if she were doing this NOW. Imagine the protests from parents…”

Have we somehow walked backwards some time when nobody was looking?

Remember to say I love you every time you say good-bye to your kids…

One thing about being a parent is that it is probably one of the most universal experiences to relate to people around you.  Complete strangers in the street.  Writers speaking through printed words.  Bloggers on the interweb.  Folks you see on the news.

Everybody is somebody else’s child.

This is sappy.  I know.

Today is 9-11.

I watched the taped replay of the first plane on the news in a hotel in Boise 8 years ago.   With utter disbelief, while I was calling my husband to wake him up, “Go turn on the TV, now!” I watched the second plane fly into view of the news video camera…

Every year, on this day, we heard the stories from parents who lost their children on that day, and I couldn’t stop crying the entire day.  I would pull myself together.  And then the thought “what would I do if it happened to my children?” would trigger another fit.  I don’t presume that I understand the heartaches these parents go through every moment.  Judging by the pain in my chest as I type this, I don’t think I will ever be able to imagine the intensity of it.

I left the house at 7:44 this morning.  That was 2 minutes before it was 8:46 am on the East Coast…

NPR played the interview of a fire fighter who lost both of his sons on 9-11-2001.  I steeled myself against the impact.

Mr. John Vigiano Sr. is a retired firefighter.  One of his boys was a policeman, and the other, a firefighter.  When John became a firefight, he received his grandfather’s badge number, 3436.

“We had the boys for — John for 36 years, Joe for 34 years, ironically. Badge number 3436.”

This was when my tears started and they have not been completely stopped yet.  I had to pull my car off to the side of the road after what Mr. Vigiano said about their unimaginable loss:

“I don’t have any could’ve, should’ve or would’ves.  I wouldn’t have changed anything.  It’s not many people that the last words they said to their son or daughter was ‘I love you.'”

Again.  I know this is probably unbearably sappy.  But, please, remember to tell your children you love them every time you say good-bye to them.


You can read the NPR Story here.

Or listen to the StoryCorps recording: Firefighter Father Recalls Losing Sons On 9/11

Afraid to ask: What is the point of HCR without a public option?

I don’t set a lot of rules in the house for my boys.  The Golden Rule, of course.  The “Be true to yourself”, remnants from reading Hermann Hesse in my youth.  And then there is my very own:

Whatever you do, don’t do a half-ass job.

(I know. I am all brevity…)

So here I am, 2:17 am 2:58 am 3:14 am on the Thursday morning after the POTUS’ address to a joint session of Congress, the one where he laid out the general principles of the Health Care Reform plan that both sides have been fighting on for months, wishing I were a better writer, because I am about to explode, wordlessly.

This headline sums up what everyone, on either side, has figured out, probably has even anticipated, at least subconsciously,

Obama avoids the details on divisive issues to keep his healthcare goals on track

The point of contention is the so-called “Public Plan”.

With all due respect to the freedom of speech, blah blah blah, I sincerely don’t see how anyone who opposes the option of a government-backed insurance plan for ALL can look at themselves in the eyes, be 100% honest, and say, “I oppose this because I don’t feel like paying more taxes for people who do not earn it.  If they cannot afford health insurance now, it is their own damn fault.  I work hard, and I pay taxes ONLY because I have to.  It has nothing to do with being selfish.  In fact, I am NOT.  I donate to charities.  I am good.”

Actually, scratch that.  I think that’s how most people justify their opposition to the Public option.  I can see it, I just cannot understand it.  Richard Dawkins must have regretted that somehow his seminal book got it so right, literally.

Not wanting to count on the innate selfishness that we were born with, GOP has augmented the horror story of a Public Option by playing up to people’s fear for an invasion by illegal immigrants.  “Their kids will get accepted into colleges before your kids are.  Now your hard-earned money is going towards to paying for their health care too!  Where is the free handout for YOU?!”   So much so that Rep. Joe Wilson (R-SC) yelled, “You lie!” after POTUS countered the fear mongering that the health care legislature as proposed will provide free health care to illegal immigrants.

Here you can witness the historical moment that turned Professional Heckler Joe “You Lie” Wilson into a GOP “Atta boy!” Martyr:

I appreciate that POTUS is caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

L.A. Times:

“And so, though some liberal Democrats have threatened to revolt if Obama does not insist on a new government insurance option — the so-called public plan — the president told the joint session of Congress that he would consider other approaches to making coverage affordable for the uninsured…  At this point, Obama seeks to remain flexible because the House will not pass a healthcare bill that does not include the public plan, and the Senate will not pass a bill that does.”

I pity the fool that covets Obama’s job after last night…

I know somewhere I must be over-simplifying things.  I must have missed something.  Even though I do understand that POTUS has to be the Über diplomat in order to push this thing through, to help it see the light of day, I cannot help but wonder, screaming aloud inside my head, at the same time feeling guilty for not being supportive, being a sort of “backseat driver”, or worse, like one of those parents that never volunteer yet always the first ones to complain…  I just have to ask out loud:

Really.  What is the point of a health care reform without a public option? (That is not Medicare, thank you very much.)

Whatever you do, don’t do a half-ass job.

Apparently, in politics, this laughably simple rule I set for my children, is difficult to follow.