Bruiser, the 2-year old, is a lot more of a cuddler than the Bean was/is. Not that Bean doesn’t like to snuggle in, but he’s a bit like a cat in that it’s generally on his own terms.
Bruiser, on the other hand, will generally come calling whenever I’m sitting down. He likes to wiggle right into my side, and put his head on my shoulder, and he has a thing for thumbs. i’d say my thumbs, but he does the same with his dad, grabs on to both of them and gets mad if you try to repurpose them for anything other than his enjoyment.
I was thinking tonight as we were tucked in together on the couch that he’s inching closer and closer to the point at which those little gestures won’t be automatic anymore. He’s getting so big, and so articulate, and really starting to engage the world head-on, taking all comers.
Is it be weird to be wistful and nostalgic for a moment that hasn’t even passed yet? Maybe. He reminds me how much a surprise it was that I like parenting. And for all that sometimes being a parent doesn’t seem natural, these moments are as unconscious as breathing, me and him against the world.
7/3/11
5/2/11
the morning after
I went to church this morning, something I’ve done on every anniversary since 9/11. Today’s not an aniversary, of course, but it felt appropriate. Frankly, I needed the quiet, the dark, a place to try and pull my thoughts together about what’s transpired in the last twenty-four hours. I needed to pray.
Last night, I think I can sum up what I felt as relieved. A ten year journey come to its seemingly inevitable conclusion, a lingering sore lanced once more in the hopes that it might finally heal. I can understand why the families of those who lost loved ones celebrated last night, and I hope it brought them closure. I lost loved ones that day, but my closure came several weeks ago, kneeling in front of a bench at the Pentagon Memorial, blind from tears. I did not need Bin Laden dead to come to peace with what had happened, but I am not sorry, either.
When I woke up, that relief was still present, though subdued, joined by a bone-deep sadness that got larger as I looked at pictures from last night’s celebrations. Even typing that feels wrong, and maybe, maybe, if it had been more pictures of quiet grace like those of the firefighters, watching in Times Square, I would feel less uneasy. Instead, I saw college kids cheering, jubilant, and felt slightly sick.
Bin Laden’s death doesn’t bring any of them back. I don’t have the access to information to be able to say with any certainty if it actually makes any of us safer. I sat there this morning in the stillness of the church and what I thought about, over and over, was our Memorial Day Vigil in that same space last year, where we spoke the names of all the U.S. servicemen and women who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan. I thought about all of the thousands of lives - Andy’s, Michelle’s - lost, the billions of dollars spent for this one moment and I can’t muster triumph. I’m not sure under what circumstances I could.
I miss them every day. I think about the world I live in now, the only world my son will know, this America, whose fractures have been more and more exposed since that day, and I do not feel made whole, because of this. I did not wish him dead, but I am not sorry he is gone. The only thing I can do is continue to work, and pray, for peace. That’s the only way to be whole.
This picture was taken last night at the Pentagon Memorial. It’s one of the few that feels right.
Last night, I think I can sum up what I felt as relieved. A ten year journey come to its seemingly inevitable conclusion, a lingering sore lanced once more in the hopes that it might finally heal. I can understand why the families of those who lost loved ones celebrated last night, and I hope it brought them closure. I lost loved ones that day, but my closure came several weeks ago, kneeling in front of a bench at the Pentagon Memorial, blind from tears. I did not need Bin Laden dead to come to peace with what had happened, but I am not sorry, either.
When I woke up, that relief was still present, though subdued, joined by a bone-deep sadness that got larger as I looked at pictures from last night’s celebrations. Even typing that feels wrong, and maybe, maybe, if it had been more pictures of quiet grace like those of the firefighters, watching in Times Square, I would feel less uneasy. Instead, I saw college kids cheering, jubilant, and felt slightly sick.
Bin Laden’s death doesn’t bring any of them back. I don’t have the access to information to be able to say with any certainty if it actually makes any of us safer. I sat there this morning in the stillness of the church and what I thought about, over and over, was our Memorial Day Vigil in that same space last year, where we spoke the names of all the U.S. servicemen and women who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan. I thought about all of the thousands of lives - Andy’s, Michelle’s - lost, the billions of dollars spent for this one moment and I can’t muster triumph. I’m not sure under what circumstances I could.
I miss them every day. I think about the world I live in now, the only world my son will know, this America, whose fractures have been more and more exposed since that day, and I do not feel made whole, because of this. I did not wish him dead, but I am not sorry he is gone. The only thing I can do is continue to work, and pray, for peace. That’s the only way to be whole.
This picture was taken last night at the Pentagon Memorial. It’s one of the few that feels right.
4/29/11
we few, we merry few.
I never expected to be a mom. Bean, the eldest, was something of an act of God, a story that is too long and personal to relay in its entirety here. Bruiser, his younger brother, was a welcome addition to a brand new family, a blessing all his own.
Being a parent is weird, and hard, and frustrating, and wonderful. I never had any great desire to experience the range of emotions that comes with becoming a mother, and yet, on this side of it, I cannot imagine my life without either one of them in it.
Today, at the zoo, unprompted, Bean grabbed Bruiser’s hand to take him to see the gorillas, their heads bending together in some secret conversation only they can understand. I found myself tearing up, something I never did much before kids, as if I could see the years ahead roll out in front of me.
They are good kids, they are mine, and I am not sure how much responsibility I can claim for the former but I hope that the affection they have for one another, the kinship, doesn’t falter as they grow up, and, inevitably, apart. I hope I can be the mother I see in their eyes when they look at me. I hope for more days like today.
4/10/11
recall lazich rally
I was lucky enough to grow up in a family where a high degree of importance was placed on political awareness and activism. As I’ve traveled to Madison multiple times with my boys over the past several weeks I’ve been even more aware of how important that is to continuing to build a vital democracy.
My parents have both been engaged in this battle in ways I haven’t seen for decades. It’s been awesome to see. Locally, they’re both heavily involved in the Recall Lazich campaign. It’s a tough district, and I’m not sure that they’ll succeed in a recall but I’m certain Lazich will no longer run unopposed, which is a victory in and of itself. There was a rally yesterday, outside New Berlin City Hall. They had a hard time coming up with a teacher who was willing to make some remarks, so my mom, now retired but still actively substituting, volunteered to be that voice. Provided I wrote her remarks, of course.
Mom led the crowd in a rousing rendition of “Roll out the Recall” which was about ten different kinds of awesome - not her creation, but she’s a good sport and helped get folks fired up. She spoke first, and I was - am - so proud of her. I was proud to stand next to her, as her prop assistant.
I put the text up on Facebook, but thought I’d preserve it in this space, too. Text after the jump, but first a picture from that morning:
Good morning. My name is Jym Clark, and some of you may know me from my time at as an English and Speech teacher and Drama Director at Whitnall High School. Others of you may not recognize me without this sign. [lift sign.] After forty years as an educator, I never expected to spend so many hours in Madison marching around our state capitol, but I don’t regret a single moment. I marched for my fellow teachers, who couldn’t be there. I marched for my students, whose education hangs in the balance. I marched for my family, who will feel the impact of what’s happening in Madison directly. I marched for them, and I marched for all of you. We are here today because the time has come to stand up for what’s right, and what’s right is elected leadership that represents all of us, not just those who voted for them.
For forty years I invested my time and talents in helping young people to grow and learn, to develop their skills and pursue their dreams. I loved my job – so much so that I continue to substitute on a regular basis. A lot is asked of teachers, during tough economic times, but we have consistently risen to the challenge, supplementing classroom materials out of our own pockets when necessary to make up the gap in funding.
Governor Walker’s cuts will put school districts and teachers in a desperate situation. You simply cannot cut $1 billion from schools and municipalities and deliver the high quality education that we have all come to expect here in Wisconsin. Those who suffer most will be our children. Increased class sizes, program eliminations, all of these will have a devastating impact on our ability to teach, and our children’s ability to learn.
Senator Lazich is, of course, right on board with this. She’s never met a school funding request she liked, as her voting record attests. She’s a big fan of Wisconsin Manufacturers and Commerce, though, actively working to place the priorities of industry over education, workers, and civil rights. This has resulted in only a 17% approval rating from the Wisconsin Association of School Boards, and 0% from civil rights organizations, the League of Wisconsin Municipalities, which offers resources for better city governance, and the Wisconsin law enforcement community. Business loves her, but she’s not supposed to be working for business, she’s supposed to be working for us.
We’re here today because Senator Lazich has stood arm-in-arm with Governor Walker and embraced these budget cuts without thought to the impact to the people in her district. Her response to concerned constituents? No response at all. In our democracy, being elected by a majority doesn’t – shouldn’t, at any rate – automatically give you the right to respond to those who voted for you at the expense of those who did not. She has chosen to ignore us, rather than engage us, and that means it’s time for her to go.
I don’t know if you all remember when our dear governor got Punk’d by a blogger in New York pretending to be one of the Koch brothers, but I was personally extremely disturbed by the details of the conversation. Rather than condemn the governor’s words on that call, Senator Lazich introduced a bill to ban prank calls, something I don’t think any of her constituents were clamoring for. Then again, I’m sure it struck fear in the heart of every Bart Simpson I’ve ever taught.
Seriously, though, the time has come for us to take back our district, and put it in the hand of someone who works for the best interests of all of us, not just a privileged few. These last few weeks have been emotional for all of us, and this past week’s Supreme Court race has been a rollercoaster, but we cannot give up the fight. We create democracy by practicing it, and that is what you are all doing here today.
I have a picture here I want to share with you: This past week my daughter, her husband, who is secretary of his AFSCME local, and their two boys were out in DC on vacation. They attended an April 4 rally outside the Koch brothers headquarters, all four of them. This is a picture of my five-year old grandson, Aidan, signing a letter to the Koch brothers asking them to stand with workers.
Every time I get frustrated, every time I feel like we’re hitting a wall, I think of Aidan, and what he’s learning about democracy by what we are doing here today. I think of all the kids in classrooms around Wisconsin, the kids in classrooms in this district, who so desperately need us to keep fighting the good fight.
I love Wisconsin. I have lived here my whole life. We have a longstanding tradition here of compromise, of meeting each other across the table, of working with fairness and integrity to find common ground. Senator Lazich has chosen to ignore that legacy, and it’s time for us to show her that she’s on the wrong side of history.
Stand strong, and stand proud, and keep up this tremendously important work. Together, we will recall Senator Lazich and reclaim our democracy!
My parents have both been engaged in this battle in ways I haven’t seen for decades. It’s been awesome to see. Locally, they’re both heavily involved in the Recall Lazich campaign. It’s a tough district, and I’m not sure that they’ll succeed in a recall but I’m certain Lazich will no longer run unopposed, which is a victory in and of itself. There was a rally yesterday, outside New Berlin City Hall. They had a hard time coming up with a teacher who was willing to make some remarks, so my mom, now retired but still actively substituting, volunteered to be that voice. Provided I wrote her remarks, of course.
Mom led the crowd in a rousing rendition of “Roll out the Recall” which was about ten different kinds of awesome - not her creation, but she’s a good sport and helped get folks fired up. She spoke first, and I was - am - so proud of her. I was proud to stand next to her, as her prop assistant.
I put the text up on Facebook, but thought I’d preserve it in this space, too. Text after the jump, but first a picture from that morning:
Good morning. My name is Jym Clark, and some of you may know me from my time at as an English and Speech teacher and Drama Director at Whitnall High School. Others of you may not recognize me without this sign. [lift sign.] After forty years as an educator, I never expected to spend so many hours in Madison marching around our state capitol, but I don’t regret a single moment. I marched for my fellow teachers, who couldn’t be there. I marched for my students, whose education hangs in the balance. I marched for my family, who will feel the impact of what’s happening in Madison directly. I marched for them, and I marched for all of you. We are here today because the time has come to stand up for what’s right, and what’s right is elected leadership that represents all of us, not just those who voted for them.
For forty years I invested my time and talents in helping young people to grow and learn, to develop their skills and pursue their dreams. I loved my job – so much so that I continue to substitute on a regular basis. A lot is asked of teachers, during tough economic times, but we have consistently risen to the challenge, supplementing classroom materials out of our own pockets when necessary to make up the gap in funding.
Governor Walker’s cuts will put school districts and teachers in a desperate situation. You simply cannot cut $1 billion from schools and municipalities and deliver the high quality education that we have all come to expect here in Wisconsin. Those who suffer most will be our children. Increased class sizes, program eliminations, all of these will have a devastating impact on our ability to teach, and our children’s ability to learn.
Senator Lazich is, of course, right on board with this. She’s never met a school funding request she liked, as her voting record attests. She’s a big fan of Wisconsin Manufacturers and Commerce, though, actively working to place the priorities of industry over education, workers, and civil rights. This has resulted in only a 17% approval rating from the Wisconsin Association of School Boards, and 0% from civil rights organizations, the League of Wisconsin Municipalities, which offers resources for better city governance, and the Wisconsin law enforcement community. Business loves her, but she’s not supposed to be working for business, she’s supposed to be working for us.
We’re here today because Senator Lazich has stood arm-in-arm with Governor Walker and embraced these budget cuts without thought to the impact to the people in her district. Her response to concerned constituents? No response at all. In our democracy, being elected by a majority doesn’t – shouldn’t, at any rate – automatically give you the right to respond to those who voted for you at the expense of those who did not. She has chosen to ignore us, rather than engage us, and that means it’s time for her to go.
I don’t know if you all remember when our dear governor got Punk’d by a blogger in New York pretending to be one of the Koch brothers, but I was personally extremely disturbed by the details of the conversation. Rather than condemn the governor’s words on that call, Senator Lazich introduced a bill to ban prank calls, something I don’t think any of her constituents were clamoring for. Then again, I’m sure it struck fear in the heart of every Bart Simpson I’ve ever taught.
Seriously, though, the time has come for us to take back our district, and put it in the hand of someone who works for the best interests of all of us, not just a privileged few. These last few weeks have been emotional for all of us, and this past week’s Supreme Court race has been a rollercoaster, but we cannot give up the fight. We create democracy by practicing it, and that is what you are all doing here today.
I have a picture here I want to share with you: This past week my daughter, her husband, who is secretary of his AFSCME local, and their two boys were out in DC on vacation. They attended an April 4 rally outside the Koch brothers headquarters, all four of them. This is a picture of my five-year old grandson, Aidan, signing a letter to the Koch brothers asking them to stand with workers.
Every time I get frustrated, every time I feel like we’re hitting a wall, I think of Aidan, and what he’s learning about democracy by what we are doing here today. I think of all the kids in classrooms around Wisconsin, the kids in classrooms in this district, who so desperately need us to keep fighting the good fight.
I love Wisconsin. I have lived here my whole life. We have a longstanding tradition here of compromise, of meeting each other across the table, of working with fairness and integrity to find common ground. Senator Lazich has chosen to ignore that legacy, and it’s time for us to show her that she’s on the wrong side of history.
Stand strong, and stand proud, and keep up this tremendously important work. Together, we will recall Senator Lazich and reclaim our democracy!
2/18/11
solidarity
My politics shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows me, or spends even a cursory amount of time reading this page. My mother was a high school teacher and union member for four decades. My husband is an officer in his union. I believe in what unions stand for, and I’m not a fan of Scott Walker.
If this budget bill passes, the effect on my family is likely devastating, and I’m not exaggerating. Nor are we alone in that regard, or in any way the people who stand to lose the most. But it wasn’t because of the proposed increases in health premiums and pension contributions that I went to Madison today to march. It was because of the blatant disregard of my governor (yes, he’s still mine, whether I like him or not) for honorable engagement with those with whom he disagrees. It was for the unions who have worked so hard to protect me and mine, union members or not.
Simply put, the role of collective bargaining is central to the dignity of the worker, and Walker’s attempts to strip union workers of the same is about as dishonorable as they come.
State employees are no different than you and I, and I say that as a former state employee myself. They understand the economic conditions we all face. They have endured pay freezes, furlough days, and layoffs. They were prepared to deal with additional cuts. But Walker’s administration never asked them that. He never asked them anything at all, choosing instead to throw them to the wolves rather than meet them at the bargaining table.
If you know me, you know that politics are deeply personal to me, but I try very hard to not take them personally. Disagreement isn’t grounds for harsh words, or vitriol. It’s an opportunity to learn from one another, and, in some instances, change our outlooks. In a civilized society, we can work to find some middle ground. Unfortunately, Governor Walker made no attempt at all.
I stood today, in tears at times, shoulder to shoulder with union members and non-union members, Democrats and Republicans, young kids and senior citizens, and I couldn’t have been more proud. That’s why I marched in Madison today, and why I plan to go back tomorrow. Because generations of workers sacrificed for me, and it’s the least I can do, to fight for their rights, and for mine. You don’t have to agree with me. You don’t have to support what’s going on there. But I hope you will at least try to understand that for most of us it’s not about economics. It’s about the beauty of living in a democracy, where all voices have a right to be heard, and a place at the table. I just want our union brothers and sisters to have a seat.
If this budget bill passes, the effect on my family is likely devastating, and I’m not exaggerating. Nor are we alone in that regard, or in any way the people who stand to lose the most. But it wasn’t because of the proposed increases in health premiums and pension contributions that I went to Madison today to march. It was because of the blatant disregard of my governor (yes, he’s still mine, whether I like him or not) for honorable engagement with those with whom he disagrees. It was for the unions who have worked so hard to protect me and mine, union members or not.
Simply put, the role of collective bargaining is central to the dignity of the worker, and Walker’s attempts to strip union workers of the same is about as dishonorable as they come.
State employees are no different than you and I, and I say that as a former state employee myself. They understand the economic conditions we all face. They have endured pay freezes, furlough days, and layoffs. They were prepared to deal with additional cuts. But Walker’s administration never asked them that. He never asked them anything at all, choosing instead to throw them to the wolves rather than meet them at the bargaining table.
If you know me, you know that politics are deeply personal to me, but I try very hard to not take them personally. Disagreement isn’t grounds for harsh words, or vitriol. It’s an opportunity to learn from one another, and, in some instances, change our outlooks. In a civilized society, we can work to find some middle ground. Unfortunately, Governor Walker made no attempt at all.
I stood today, in tears at times, shoulder to shoulder with union members and non-union members, Democrats and Republicans, young kids and senior citizens, and I couldn’t have been more proud. That’s why I marched in Madison today, and why I plan to go back tomorrow. Because generations of workers sacrificed for me, and it’s the least I can do, to fight for their rights, and for mine. You don’t have to agree with me. You don’t have to support what’s going on there. But I hope you will at least try to understand that for most of us it’s not about economics. It’s about the beauty of living in a democracy, where all voices have a right to be heard, and a place at the table. I just want our union brothers and sisters to have a seat.
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