As the sinfully greedy attempt to make our society become what I think our Founding Fathers tried to prevent, there are signs of the beginning of the end of public school. That means only those born into some money would get educated. That would mean basically a caste system, certainly the end of the American dream. Teachers and parents, when united, determined, and brave, are a strong voice. I think pediatricians and child psychologists should contribute their voices as well. Sitting in front of a computer for hours with no other children, no experiences of sharing, singing, smiling, making crafts is far from a kindergarten experience. We know too much about childhood now to allow this to happen. A four-year-old is not a little adult.
For those teachers who have returned to work and sat through depressing staff meetings, I thought it important to share some reminders, inspiration, nourishment, and appreciation.
Enjoy...
When She Realized Her Students Were Suicidal, This Teacher Changed Her Curriculum
Students are why teachers exist. Politicians and administrators are not why teachers exist. So when you see what the teacher in the above video saw -- ten-year-olds with little will to live -- please think about their needs. Loving oneself is much more crucial than knowing what years one country's military slaughtered another country's military. Patriarchy and capitalism to an extreme has us ignoring our children, not recognizing nor rewarding those who bother to love the children (our future), and destroying the planet. It so goes against nature and our souls. It really shouldn't surprise us that so many of our citizens are medicated or need to be.
Rita Pierson: Every kid needs a champion
Filmed May 2013 • Posted May 2013 • TED Talks Education
Try to remember that life is huge, as my friend Jackie Sheeler reminds me. It is certainly bigger than any one crisis. I happen to work with adult basic students. The future of basic education is very uncertain for them. New York State sold the whole high school equivalency ordeal to a for-profit company who intended on charging people who are trying to finish high school to take a new test. That is not legal in New York State. So now it is with yet another for-profit company. Word has it that the new test will be harder and ultimately to be taken on computer. We have students in their 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s who are not computer literate. This adds to the mountain before them. No matter what is going on with policy makers and their lack of knowledge of how people learn and/or their lack of concern if people have access to any hope for their future, I try to keep my eye on my students. I try to address their needs. I have been fortunate to have worked at places that have pretty much allowed me to be, and I tend to be much more student-centered than curriculum-centered. I try to accept wherever my students are at, and we go from there.
So my teacher peeps, in spite of a lot of awful shit going on, close your classroom door, fight the good fight, and try to provide a meaningful and happy school year! As a member of society, I thank you.
Well I'm as surprised as you are to find me here today.
Life has a way of keeping that curve ball in motion.
If you donated to my documentary Drama Mamas The Film,
honoring black women theater directors -
THANK YOU!
If you did not get the chance while the Indiegogo campaign was in full swing,
I'll soon post a link where you can contribute to our post-production finishing funds.
Last night I saw the Tony Award winning musical Kinky Boots.
It was a healing experience for me. I needed healing.
In fact I feel too good to talk about my (fill in the blank) Landlady
or how many places I had to visit this morning to get wifi and post this blog.
I'm gonna go spend my twenty cent residual check.
Have a great day! Have a good laugh!
Rhonda Hansome is an actress, writer, director and stand-up comic. Oct.10th at New York Times Headquarters she performs at the 1st Impact Leadership 21 Summit and Awards; a platform committed to transforming women's global leadership at the highest level of influence in the 21st century.
At the beginning of the summer, I thought of
writing a letter to the local paper challenging the community to a murder-free
summer.Before it went from a thought to
an action, a 21-year-old man was murdered across the street from me in his
lobby.The neighborhood has been flooded
with cops ever since.I don’t know if
they caught those responsible for that murder.I do know there are shootings going on as a lifestyle around here.I am actually grateful for getting home each
day.I am in and out a lot. And being I
am on vacation from work, my schedule is almost non-existent.So I might be going to the store at any time
in a 24-hour period.Due to my
unconventional way of living, I tend to hear tidbits from all kinds of folks in
the neighborhood – from the young hoodlums who consider me somewhat cool to the
store owners and the folks who are horrified at what’s been happening.Sometimes, I get my info because people feel
free to speak to each other in front of me.During much of the summer of 2013, these have been the sounds of my
neighborhood:
“You can’t make a call
until you’re moved to the second cell.”
“I know.I make all my calls from the second cell.”
“They
better lock up that white nigga.”
“Yeah.He’s gonna fuck her up.They better lock him up.”
Be my, be my baby
Be my baby now
“Hey, Ma.God bless you.”
“There
was a gun fight last night.Did you hear
it?”
“Yeah,
like three in the morning.I didn’t know
where it was, but I heard it.”
“It
was from one rooftop to another on my corner.”
“Holy
shit.”
“Hey, I heard you are
planning on moving.Is that true?”
“Well, not at least
for two years.My daughter just entered
a Master’s program at Lehman College, so we are staying at least that long.”
“’Cuz the decent
people leave, and I’m afraid I’m going to be left in the middle of a
battlefield all by myself.”
“No.Don’t worry.”
“I wouldn’t blame you
for wanting to leave with all the shit’s been goin’ on lately.”
“It’s crazy.”
“The other day, a few
yards from me, a kid pulled out a gun from his pocket right near C-Town and
shot at a group.It was daytime and many
people were out and saw.It’s like he
thought he was in a movie.But we’re
real, and I really want to live.”
“Oh my God!”
“Yeah.When I come out with the dog, there’s no good
direction to walk.There’s something
going on everywhere.I let him decide.I figure he may know better just from
sniffing.”
Oye
como va mi ritmo Bueno pa' gozar, mulata Oye como va mi ritmo
Bueno pa' gozar mulata
“Ooooh, I
finally get to see the new person!What’s his name?”
“Joshua.He’s a month old now.”
“When I hadn’t
seen you, I thought maybe you were away at relatives.”
“No.We’ve been in the house.My stepkids are with us this summer taking
summer school because they messed up.We’re on lockdown.”
“You might be
better off with all that’s happening out here.”
“Ani, you know what’s been going on here, right?All the shootings?”
“Oh please, they are shooting from one side of the Concourse to
the other for drug territory.”
“This is insane.Anybody
could be going to the store or to work and get hit.”
“I know.I applied for
senior housing.I figure by the time I
get called, I’ll be eligible.”
“This is some scary shit.It’s starting to feel amazing that we get home at all.”
“I really hope they get whoever they have to get
and this passes ‘cuz I still consider this my neighborhood.”
“It is our neighborhood, and I like it.”
Celebrate good times, come on! (Let's
celebrate)
Celebrate good times, come on! (Let's celebrate)
There's a party goin' on right here
A celebration to last throughout the years
“Hey girl.I got approved
for a place on Grand Avenue.I’m so
glad.I gotta get outta that
building.I can’t even have my kid visit
me there.They put a gun to him and got
mad that I called the cops.What was I
s’posed to do?Wait ‘til they kill him?”
“I’m glad for you that you got a place.You really need to.You’re in a very problematic building.”
“It’s all people from rehab and shit.The cops told me to stay upstairs.But I can’t sit there all day.They told me if I see a white van, to go
upstairs because there could be a shoot-out.”
“Get home safe.I’ll call you later.”
“You be safe too.Vaya con Dios.”
Obama argued Saturday that the
United States would be setting a dangerous precedent if it did not respond to
the Aug. 21 attack in a Damascus suburb, which U.S. intelligence officials say
killed nearly 1,500 civilians, including 426 children.
“This attack is an assault on
human dignity,” Obama said. “It also presents a serious danger to our national
security. ... It could lead
to escalating use of chemical weapons, or their proliferation to terrorist
groups who would do our people harm.”
I agree with the president’s concerns.I do.I remember when I was a child hearing an older Jewish woman saying with
pain in her voice about the Holocaust and saving the Jewish people, "What
took the United States so long?"I
just want to point out that in the meantime, our own people are doing our
people enough harm in many neighborhoods to make us feel we are already at
war.
“…he had killed his mark's 16-month-old baby, whom his target was pushing in a
stroller, sources said.
The horrific shooting was believed to be in retaliation
for a drive-by shooting last year that left one of the suspect's brothers
wounded in addition to a 2-year-old girl, according to the sources.”
I didn't see the live broadcast of the 2013 VMA Awards.
I will admit that after a a few days of non-stop reactions to THE performance that eclipsed all others, I Googled Miley Cyrus 2013 VMA Awards and got an eyeful.
Not being familiar with her and her music - yes I live under a rock!- I thought she had an affliction that left her with minimal control of her tongue.
I watched the Blurred Lines number. BTW, for this blog, I am by-passing the litigation regarding the song and the empowering / objectification of women debate associated with the lyrics of the song. What was happening on the VMA stage made me uncomfortable in a vague (Am I just too old to appreciate the artistic value and cultural significance of this spectacle?) kind of way.
Then I came across When Your (Brown) Body is a (White) Wonderland by Tressie McMillan Cottom. Tressie's post placed the most talked about 2013 VMA performance in a sociological context. Here is an excerpt from Tressie's post that shed new light on my discomfort:
What I saw in Cyrus’ performance was not just a clueless, culturally insensitive attempt to assert her sexuality or a simple act of cultural appropriation at the expense of black bodies. Instead I saw what kinds of black bodies were on that stage with Cyrus.
Fat, non-normative black female bodies are kith and kin with historical caricatures of black women as work sites, production units, subjects of victimless sexual crimes, and embodied deviance. As I wrote in an analysis ofhip-hop and country music crossovers,playing the desirability of black female bodies as a wink-wink joke is a way of lifting up our deviant sexuality without lifting up black women as equally desirable to white women.
Cyrus did not just have black women gyrating behind her. She had particularly rotund black women. She gleefully slaps the ass of one dancer like she intends to eat it on a cracker. She is playing a type of black female body as a joke to challenge her audience’s perceptions of herself, while leaving their perceptions of black women’s bodies firmly intact. It’s a dance between performing sexual freedom and maintaining a hierarchy of female bodies from which white women benefit materially.
I suggest you read Tressie's post in its entirety, here. Even though I may not agree with her every point,
I found her theme a refreshing change from the general outrage over Miley's desecration of a national treasure - the foam finger.
Yes, if I had not switched my major from sociology to theater I might be teaching at a university, have health insurance and a life sustaining pension in my future. Damn you statistics for throwing me off that path!
Rhonda Hansome is an actress, stand-up comic and director. There are only days left to donate to her legacy project, Drama Mamas The Film, Black Women Theater Directors In The Spotlight and Remembered. Tweet @DramaMamas2 I support #BlackWomenTheaterDirectors. Give to the Indiegogo campaign and share this link TODAY!
These are some men who I’d be interested in knowing
more personally. This is only a selection of a bigger list.
Some are dead.
(This would include my father.We
only knew of each other.I was fortunate
for my first eleven years to have a grandfather who cared about me.)
Some are gay.
Meet the black, gay, badass pacifist mastermind behind
the March on Washington who is finally getting his due. http://mojo.ly/1dMMtmr
(Author James Baldwin helped me to begin to understand some of my own relatives and what being white means to them.)
One thing they all seem to have in common is their
feminism (as you may know, making life right for all women ultimately
means a better life for children, men, animals, and the planet).
I respect those who oppose and are sickened by oppression in all its
forms and define manhood for themselves.(I respect and thank God for a woman for the same reasons, opposing
oppression in all its forms and defining womanhood for herself, showing all of
us more choices.)
Back to the men. I could be on someone’s list too whose interest I am
not aware of.
When summer gathers up her robes of glory,
And, like a dream, glides away.
~ Sarah Helen Whitman
This summer comes to a bittersweet end of an era in my household. It's the summer that we say goodbye to our beloved above-the-ground pool.
My ex and I spontaneously purchased the pool on a Fourth of July weekend in 2001. It was hot, I had a few extra bucks on my Discover card, two babies at home, and memories of being green with envy of my friends who had pools when I was a (sweltering, pool-less) kid.
We hopped in the 2nd hand Nissan Pathfinder that afternoon, headed to Joe Ordini's Pools in Paterson, NJ, spotted a pool that wouldn't max out my credit card, threw it in the back of the truck, pump, pool, chemicals & all, and headed home to assemble it ourselves.
How hard could it be, right? It was Monday. I knew I'd be lazing about in my brand new pool by Wednesday, the Fourth.
It was scorching hot that day as we dug up and leveled the ground (after chopping through 100 year old tree roots) and laid down the sand (that we didn't know we needed until opening the instructions. Easy Peasy.
On Tuesday we got lucky. There was quite a breeze cooling of the previous day's Hellish temperatures. A breeze that came in quite handy as we unraveled the wobbly galvanized metal pool which was to be placed ever-so-carefully in the circular tracks that we had laid into the sand. Tracks that continually were filled with sand rendering it impossible for two people to slide 15 feet of round sheet metal into.
I suppose there's a reason why Joe Ordini's pool people offered to come to our home (for a small fee) to put it together and then looked at us like we were mad when we said, “Thanks, but no thanks.” My ex was convinced that he could do it himself (sans help from my father who actually knows how to get shit done). This was the ex who finished our basement by reading the Time Life books on construction and electrical work. (The electrical work that was ripped out by a contractor who said he was surprised that our house was still standing).
As the wind picked up and the pool “frame” wobbled and fell, wobbled and fell, wobbled and fell, we began to get on each other's nerves. Slightly. And then not-so-slightly. I do have a vague recollection of chasing my ex to his car with a wrench in my hands because he had refused my father, uncle, and brother's countless offers of help. Not a proud moment.
Fortunately for us, my father, uncle, and brother who all lived next door, came to our rescue, managed to pry the wrench from my white-knuckled death-grip, and convinced the ex to let them help.
Alas, the pool was finally finished (apparently, so was our marriage, but that's pool water under the bridge).
Despite the poorly executed plans, we did manage to get a lot of good use out of the pool for 12 years. The kids (and my sister's dog) learned to swim, we entertained, we cooled off, we relaxed. We conquered algae, leaks, broken pumps, over-chlorination. All in the name of summer-time fun.
But today it comes down and believe it or not, I'm sad. On Labor Day. Seems so apropos.
As a member of society, I thank you.
