On My Mind

Subject: What's In  A Name?
Time: 7:05:13 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Happy

My friend, BT, began sending emails to a small group of us, who are addicted to the presidential nomination race, several weeks ago. Everyone now emails everyone with personal observations, news story links, and primary humor.

I received this email from AT, another member of the group today:

you know, I've changed my mind about Barack.  I now no longer support him for president because I am very concerned that the people of West Virginia will be uncomfortable:  Click to read the LA Times news article.

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Subject: It's Been A Long Time Coming
Time: 7:07:45 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Happy
Music:  Sam Cooke

I respect that everyone does not support Senator Obama for president but that doesn't detract from the the high that I'm on. There is no long entry today and I have no big comments to make. I've just had this song in my head all day, so of course I went to YouTube and found it. The singer is Sam Cooke; the song is A Change Is Gonna Come. It's a bit mournful but yet so optimistic. It's the optimism that I love.

A dear friend sent me the lyrics in an email this morning and I'm posting them here for my friends who can't hear the music except in their hearts; you know who you are.

I was born by the river in a little tent

And just like the river, I've been running ever since  

It's been a long time coming  

But I know a change is gonna come    

It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die  

I don't know what's up there beyond the sky  

It's been a long time coming  

But I know a change is gonna come   

I go to the movie, and I go downtown  

Somebody keep telling me "Don't hang around"  

It's been a long time coming  

But I know a change is gonna come   

Then I go to my brother and I say, "Brother, help me please"  

But he winds up knocking me back down on my knees    

There've been times that I've thought I couldn't last for long  

But now I think I'm able to carry on  

It's been a long time coming  

But I know a change is gonna come.

Tags: Sam Cooke, Barack Obama, A Change Is Gonna Come

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Subject: Me and Obama
Time: 5:12:41 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Happy

My home state, North Carolina, has its primary on Tuesday, May 6.  Like other states, NC has early voting and for the first time this year, folks that weren't registered to vote, could register and vote at the same time.

I considered taking advantage of early voting to save the lines that I hope will be wrapped around the polls on Tuesday. I changed my mind because I realized that I wanted the excitement of going to my polling place and casting my vote on Tuesday.

By now, you know that my vote will be for Barack Obama. Regardless of what some of the media reports, I will not cast my vote for Obama because he's black. Certainly I am pleased that a person of color is a serious contender for the highest office in this country. Quite frankly, I didn't have a lot of hope of such an event occurring during my lifetime.

My use of "person of color" in referencing Senator Obama is very deliberate. He is no more black than he is white. I say this not to disparage Obama's accomplishments thus far, but to acknowledge the truth and the inherent irony in that truth. For all practical purposes, Obama's experiences in this country have been those of a black man, because in the United States, we continue to make much ado about race. In particular, we cling to concepts of race, developed during slavery and further defined during Jim Crow, that result in a child produced of a white parent and a black parent always being identified as black.  A good friend of mine once said that he found it disturbing that it took two white people to make a white person, but only one black person to make a black person.

I find it curious that it rarely occurs to most people to question this system of classification. It makes no logical sense and it has little basis in science. I once left a comment on a blog stating that race is primarily a social construct. The blogger sent me an email asking me what I meant.

I wasn't offended but I was surprised. The blogger was a person with a great many credentials, a writer about public education issues on a national scale. I was surprised that he was unfamiliar with a widely expressed view of the scientific community that race is not a biological or scientifically based system of classification, but a system of social classification similar to class. (Note, there has not been a total dismissal in science of the concept of race. Groups of people share cultural and physical characteristics. Many scientists attribute these differences to geographical locations and human migration patterns. It's a fascinating area of study.)

The big difference, is that to varying extents, class is mutable; it can be changed. Race is an immutable characteristic. Senator Obama can't decide to identify himself as white, although that classification is just as accurate as black. (Immutable based on societal norms.)

The rigidity of the classification has expanded and the black community has adopted the standards for race imposed by the dominant white culture as our own. When golfer Tiger Woods tried to define his identity in terms of all of his lines of heritage, including those of his Asian mother, many African-Americans condemned what they perceived to be a denial of his black heritage. I think that Mr. Woods was simply trying to say that he was the sum of all of his ethnic and cultural heritages.

The U.S. census now permits people to identify themselves as multi-racial. I'm not certain that this is a major improvement. It still accepts the basic premise that race actually means something, that there are differences among people based on race. The problem with race as the litmus standard for classifying people is that most of us rely on external characteristics such as skin color to make racial classifications. Human beings are much more complex. There are physiological characteristics linked to different areas of geographic origin. However, science has determined that although there are shared characteristics among large groups with a shared ancestry, these characteristics aren't absolute, nor are they shared only within the specific group.

The straightforward biological fact of human variation is that there are no traits that are inherently, inevitably associated with one another....Indeed, despite the obvious physical differences between people from different areas, the vast majority of human genetic variation occurs within populations, not between them, with only some 6 percent accounted for by race...

So when I cast my vote on Tuesday, it won't be because Senator Obama and I share a significant amount of melanin in our skin. I will vote for him because he gives me hope that this country can do better by its uninsured, those living in poverty, the homeless, the unemployed, its disabled veterans, and all of those in need. It's because I think that his domestic agenda offers a solid list of plans to address all of these issues. It's because I think that his foreign policy will help this country regain its place as a power for right not might. It's because I don't think that the measure of a man or woman's patriotism lies in placing his or her hand over her heart but in a commitment to working to make this country hold to its ideals of a government for the people, and by the people. 

The icing on the cake is the sweet irony that Barack Obama is the physical manifestation of the joining together of black and white in a nation that has been far too long divided.

I found the video on YouTube.  It features images from Obama's campaign backed by the Pointer Sisters singing "Yes We Can, Can." It's a definite dance around the room beat!

Tags: Barack Obama, presidential primary, North Carolina, race, Pointer Sisters

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Subject: Past, Present, and Remembrance
Time: 4:25:55 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Happy

Yesterday while trying to catch up on my journal reading, a recent entry in Carly's journal caught my eye. She wrote about heritage, about the long road to the very real possibility that a black person could become the next president of these United States. She wrote about the history of black people in this country and her belief that she was casting her vote for Obama for all of those generation who preceded her, who fought, struggled, and often died to achieve the present in which we live.

One of her readers left Carly a well-intentioned comment that reads:

"Who you vote for is your choice but vote for the future and not the past. I'm not sure which Democrat should be in office but I know that whoever it is will not change the past but will impact the future. Look forward with hope for change for this country certainly needs it. Hugs"

I didn't take offense at the comment and neither did Carly. I know because she left her own comment that reads in part:

"I think my vote is for the future as well as the past. If you don't know your past you sure can't see your future."

Her words stuck a responsive chord in me. I share Carly's feelings of pride and hope and connection to my ancestors who are not here to see this new day in America. The past cannot be undone, but neither can it be ignored or forgotten. The blood shed, the tears cried, and the sacrifices made by those who came before me are not abstractions to be dismissed as no longer of significance. The past informs the present.

 

The commenter is right, the past cannot be changed but it can be repeated, played out over and over again unless we remember it truthfully and learn from it. On my first visit to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC. I was struck by the importance of remembering, of recognizing the horrors of the past as a way of honoring those who suffered and memorializing that such horror must never happen again. However, in the flawed world that we live in, such horrors continue--Bosnia, Rwanda, Darfur, the list is long and seemingly never ending. Yet we must continue to struggle to remember, if we are to break the cycle of inhumanity to others whom we perceive as not us, as a "they" who is less than human, and fair game for destruction.

 

So I too will think of my African forefathers and mothers as I cast my vote for Barack Obama. But I also take pride that for the first time, a woman may be elected to the presidency. A piece of history that many of us choose to ignore or forget is the struggle that previous generations of women endured to achieve the relative equality that women now enjoy. The amendment giving women the right to vote nationally wasn't ratified until 1920, less than one hundred years ago. Strong women, brave women defied the conventions of their time to fight for a right that we now take for granted.

 

In 1913, a women's suffrage parade was attacked by a mob and many of the protesters were injured. The police stood by and did nothing to intervene and no one was ever arrested for attacking the protesting women.

 

Alice Paul, a leader of the suffragette movement, was imprisoned for her audacity in advocating for women having the right to vote. Kept in isolation for two weeks, she was fed nothing but bread and water in an attempt to break her spirit. In response, Alice went on a hunger strike; other imprisoned suffragettes followed suit. Can you imagine having the men in your family, your husband, brother, son, turn against you, physically chastise you, for daring to participate in the suffragette movement, for having the audacity to believe that women were entitled to full citizenship and participation in the governing of this country?

 

Remembrance isn't living in the past; it is honoring those who sacrificed so much to make our present. We can have no future if we allow ourselves to forget the past.

 

I went to YouTube to find a video of Helen Reddy singing "I Am Woman," a recording that she released in 1972. I was 17 and this anthem for women's equality really ignited my budding feminism. I found this video that uses the song as a commentary on the ongoing scourge of domestic violence. We've come a long way but the journey isn't over.

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Subject: Commonalities, Sisterhood, and Xena
Time: 6:28:10 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Happy

Marc sent me an interesting pairing of a painting by Pierre-Auguste Renoir and one by Romare Bearden. Renoir was a Frenchman and an impressionist, born in the mid 19th century and a contemporary of Claude Monet. I'm a big fan of Impressionism; I love the use of color and light to create paintings of great beauty. Bearden was an African-American, born in my home state of North Carolina in the early 20th century. He worked in multiple styles and medium and is perhaps most renown for his collages, combinations of torn paper, paint washes, and charcoal lines. I'm also a long time fan of Bearden's work.

Both artists address the same subject matter, two young girls taking piano lessons, the same and yet entirely different. In the Renoir, the girls appear to be close in age and in my imagination, they are sisters, the older teaching the younger. In the Bearden composition, the teacher appears older, perhaps an aunt passing along her talent to a young niece. What I find most intriguing are the commonalities of the paintings. Both young students are shown in profile, touching the keyboard, and both teachers, with heads tilted, leaning in and providing guidance to their pupils. Each painting is awash in color, Renoir's rich, but subdued, and Bearden's intense and primary.

On a broad scale, the paintings make me think of our uniqueness as human beings and the differences that we adopt for ourselves such as race, ethnicity, and skin color. Differences that we assign meaning to, most of it negative and which we use to divide ourselves. Yet, these differences are really of no more significance than those of Bearden's and Renoir's interpretation of a piano lesson. Visually, they are different, but essentially, they are the same, just different perspectives of the same connection between teacher and student.

On a purely personal level, the paintings make me think of my sister. I am the oldest but through the years we have constantly interchanged the role of teacher. She has taught me a great deal. We have always loved each other as sisters do; we have an unbreakable bond. However, as adults, we have chosen to be friends and I treasure that most of all.

A few posts back, I included a video from YouTube of Annie Lennox and Aretha Franklin singing "Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves." For whatever reason, the poster on YouTube has disabled the embed code and the video is no longer available. In my search for another video of the song, I found the video below. I was a major fan of the television show, Xena: Warrior Princess, starring Lucy Lawless. I never missed an episode. I loved Xena, she was strong, fearless, and yet not afraid to have a heart. She and her equally fearless sidekick, Gabrielle, traveled, had adventures, fought for good, and really kicked ass.

This video is a clip from the show in which the actress who played Xena was pregnant, and her pregnancy was written into the show to explain her suddenly wearing a lot more clothes than usual. Another concession in the scripts was no acrobatic fight scenes, a trademark of the series. It happens that the actresses playing Xena and Gabrielle were both good vocalists and the creative writers added some musical numbers to the show as a distraction. This is one of them, where Xena tells her mother that she is going to have her child without benefit of a husband. Xena doesn't mention that she has no idea who the father is because she doesn't recall having recently engaged in the type of behavior that results in pregnancy. (Btw, alas, Gabrielle is not in this scene; I think that she may have been in the spirit world or a prisoner somewhere.)

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Subject: All in My Family
Time: 9:17:51 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Silly

I received the following email from my sister two weeks ago and it has been weighing on my mind ever since.

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Subject: Whose Keeper Am I?
Time: 8:02:04 PM EDT
Author:  aimer

The current brouhaha over Barack Obama's allegedly elitist comments has been on my mind these past few days, but I haven't been in a mood to write about the serious issues of the day and have pretended not to notice them. However, I just read Marc's journal entry for today and found myself in the amen corner as I nodded my head in affirmation at his analysis of the efforts to undermine Senator Obama by calling him that dreaded of all terms, an elitist!  Check out his entry; it's good reading, just click here to visit Marc's journal.

In case you aren't clear as to what Obama actually said at a San Francisco fundraiser, here are his remarks, offered in explanation of the difficulties that he faced in reaching people in small town America:

 "You go into some of these small towns in Pennsylvania, and like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothings replaced them. And they fell through the Clinton administration, and the Bush administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are going to regenerate and they have not. So it's not surprising, then, that they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."

Personally, I think the Senator hit the nail on the head. People who are in pain, who are bitter and angry, look for someone to blame. Scratch the surface of any bigot, whether that bigotry is based on race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, religious belief, or language, and you will find a bitter person who is convinced that his or her own lot in life would be better if not for all the ____________ (fill in the blank).

Small town America as the home of June Cleaver is a myth, carefully constructed and nurtured by what we want to believe rather than what is. This country is crisscrossed with insular communities that cling to their beliefs to the exclusion of allowing for any differences of opinion. Every time you find yourself lumping any people into a group and ascribing some negative behavior to that group, you're indulging in prejudice. When you get all bent out of shape because the sales person speaks with an accent, you're letting your prejudice out. When you profess to love the sinner but not the sin, and therefore feel that you have the right to determine whom another person may love, you're succumbing to prejudice. When you believe that the goal of Islam is to destroy America, you're expressing a prejudiced belief. Every time that you blame the misery and problems in your own life on some other group of people, you're indulging in prejudice.

Senator Obama didn't say it this strongly, but I do, because as long as we live with delusions that we are somehow above bitterness, above indulging in prejudice, then we will do nothing to change things. We will lull ourselves into a false sense of higher morality, convinced that we are not a part of the problem because we are not prejudiced, not bigoted, not biased; we treat everyone fairly and respect everyone equally.

Soul searching is something that each of us must do as individuals. I suggest a simple test, at the next gathering that you attend, whether it be a party, or church on Sunday morning, or just an evening of cards, look around the room and count how much diversity there is in the group--race, ethnicity, English as a second language, gay, Jewish, Islamic, poor, homeless, on public assistance etc. Ask yourself how many people you know, not just know of or speak to in passing, who are different from you? Ask yourself who do you blame for societal ills, how do you feel about our prison system, the death penalty, mandatory drug sentencing? Take a good self-inventory, and for goodness sake, don't leave me comments telling me about your self-inventory. It's not about me or anyone else, it's about each of us, taking stock of ourselves, and asking the ultimate question, have I been my brother's, my sister's, keeper?

A little something from Marvin Gaye...

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Subject: Touched By The Sun
Time: 8:30:38 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Happy
Music:  Carly Simon

It all began because I couldn't decide what I wanted to write about today. Ever since I became obsessed with being menopausal, I can't bring myself to deal with the current state of world affairs. I haven't found it listed any where but I think that self-centeredness must be a symptom of menopause.

So, I read a few blogs, but didn't bother to comment because that would have taken effort on my part and I'm being very lazy today. I got to my friend Marc's blog, and suddenly I was inspired. Marc has been creating some unique works of art that he labels Hy-Art, for some time, and I think that they are pretty special. I've mentioned them here before and I know that some of you have checked out his work. Recently, he generated a new web site where he sells sets of his Hy-Art as note cards. I have two sets, one that I purchased and one that he generously sent me as a gift. They are lovely and if I can bear to part with them, are actually quite practical for sending all sorts of notes or giving a set as a gift.

I think that another symptom of being in the throes of menopause is obsession. Today I became obsessed with Marc's Hy-Art note cards and decided to surprise him by creating the following video. The images are from Marc's Hy-Art collection. All of the images aren't currently available on cards; I just selected some of my favorites for the video. The song, by Carly Simon, is called Touched By The Sun. It appeals to me on so many levels and seemed a fitting accompaniment for Marc's artistic expressions.

P.S. Marc, I also posted it on YouTube. I really got into this as my activity for the day. Blame it on menopause.

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Subject: Drying Up One Egg at a Time
Time: 7:20:26 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Silly
Music:  Eurythmics

There is a lot going on in the world. Icebergs the size of Rhode Island are falling off of Anartica; teenagers who are escapees from the Sci-Fi movie Village of the Damned are attacking their teachers and videotaping themselves doing so; and who knows what Dick Cheney is smiling about behind his sinister sunglasses in today's news stories. However, as serious as these matters may be, I don't have time to write about them. My world is about me, and only me for today.

When I turned 50, my doctor told me that I was perimenopausal.

"Perry who?"

"You're perimenopausal, Ms. Reid. It's a normal part of aging, a transition into menopause, there's nothing to worry about."

Warning: if you're the type of man who passes out or starts giggling uncontrollably when you hear words like period, stop reading now.

That was three years ago and I sort of forgot about it. I read a little online about being perimenopausal and it didn't sound so bad. I was coming to the end of my reproductive cycle and eventually, after 12 consecutive months without a period, I would be officially menopausal, no big deal.

I had my last menstrual cycle 13 months ago and I was delighted at how smoothly I had transitioned from perimenopause to menopause. On my 53rd birthday a few weeks ago, I was chatting with my sister who is two years younger.

"Well, based on my experience, menopause should be a breeze for you, if these things are at all hereditary."

My sister's response wasn't as enthusiastic as I expected, "Uh huh."

As I mentioned in my last post, I was a bit under the weather this past weekend. My doctor had allowed me to switch to a generic substitute for the Lipitor I've been taking for years and I had every side effect possible--muscle pain, nausea, and loss of appetite. I was also extremely fatigued which I also attributed to the side effects from the medication change. Needless to say, I'm back on Lipitor and I'm all better, sort of. Two nights ago I had my first night sweat. Or maybe it was a hot flash. I think that they may be the same thing, except one happens at night, while you are attempting to sleep and the other in the light of day.

It was 3:00 am and I woke up soaking wet. Ohmygod! Who wet the bed? I gave Laa-Laa (she's the yellow teletubby) a suspicious look but she just lay there, looking innocent. As I dragged myself out of my damp bed, I realized that I had experienced a night sweat! I reached for the phone to call my sister, but then I noticed the time again and thought better of it.

Since then, I haven't had another bout with the night sweats, but I've been doing some reading on menopause, and it's not pretty.

My eggs are drying up even as I type this, just drying right up and I will never have any more. That's it, every woman gets a finite number, when they're gone, they're gone. There is no egg store! What if I need eggs in the future?

I've been totally lethargic all week. No energy to do anything. My front flower bed is a weed filled, over grown mess, but do I care? Of course I do, in fact I may start crying for all those poor flowers, trying to live among all those weeds. Did I mention the mood swings?

It gets worse. I can look forward to changes in my libido, that's polite talk for wanting to have sex. According to a delightful article that I read on WebMD, there's going to be a bit of atrophy. Yep, that's right, my vaginal walls are going to thin and atrophy.  I quote, "In addition, your vaginal walls will thin, and the cells lining the vagina will not contain as much estrogen. Your doctor will simply take a Pap-like smear from your vaginal walls -- simple and painless -- and analyze the smear to check for vaginal 'atrophy,' the thinning and drying out of your vagina."

You know that someone is lying; does this sound simple and painless to you? I've had pap smears before I atrophied and even they weren't totally painless!

I have just enough strength to make a shopping list for all the homeopathic remedies that I've found on the Internet. Maybe I can get some nice young man to take the list and pick up the things that I need.  Hmmm, maybe I haven't totally atrophied yet...

I love this song:

 

Tags: perimenopause, menopause, women, aging,

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Subject: They're asking about me!
Time: 10:47:32 PM EDT
Author:  aimer
Mood:  Happy
Music:  Rod's Fine Tune Play list



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