Ethical ELA: Claudia Sheinbaum

Today's Ethical ELA asked us to consider contemporary women in the news. I knew right away that I would like to write about the Nobel Prize winning President of Mexico. have watched her from afar with quiet admiration for her dignified stance in her relations with the United States. It would appear she avoids name calling, abusive language, and retaliation in favor of productive and focused dialogue. She appears to be, in my opinion, a class act who focuses energy on making the world a better place.

First
Female, Jewish

Nobel Prize Winner

Earned Pd.D, Nobel Prize,

Accomplished energy enginer, climate scientist,

Mexico City Mayor Introducing novel Cablebus 

Accomplished improved citywide commuting, addressed everyone's security,

Implemented gender-neutral uniform policy for students schools,

Landslide victory Presidenta Mexico, dialogue, de-escalation earning praised internationally

Her Excellency Claudia Sheinbaum

SOL26 March 23: Closer to Spring

This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life  group sharing a slice of my life each day.  This slice comes from a tiny bite of the first Sunday morning of spring.

I thought I read or heard it was going to be in the 60s, so I pulled on my cropped yoga pants and the quilted vest yearning to see the light of spring, and dashed out the door. I turned around before locking to grab a winter coat. It was overcast, drizzly, and felt very cold even if it was the first Sunday morning in spring! 

I turned on the seat warmers, cranked up the heat, and realized it was 39 degrees. I jumped on the highway and was almost there when I noticed DD was next to the exit ramp. I made a fortuitous decision and stopped for a large, hot, black coffee.

There were SUVs lined from stem to stern and a field of preteen girls in shorts and tees tossing yellow balls from tiny baskets attached to sticks. Meanwhile, their parents caught up on the local gossip, children's sports accomplishments, and the costs of training clinics. "We did the travel program where they promised 100 games including some at Disney World," one boasted.  I cringed, wondering the cost, time and family energy.

I noticed a bevy of brothers playing soccer, a bunch playing football, and a few tossing Frisbees oblivious to the loud geese returning in the largest V formation I've ever seen while sipping my coffee. Meanwhile. parents wrapped in blankets and siblings snuggled under blankets, trying to warm themselves while the wind blew across the fields. Finally, the shivering girls began to play.  

It was 8:45 in the morning and it was finally spring on the calendar, at least. I smiled thinking of the poem, I Heard a Bird Sing.  We are at least nearer to spring than we were in September!

 I Heard a Bird Sing  by Oliver Herford

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.

"We are nearer to Spring 
Than we were in September,” 
I heard a bird sing 
In the dark of December. 

From Welcome Christmas! A Garland of Poems (Viking Press, 1955).
This poem is now in the public domain.

Ethical ELA March 22 What Makes Readers

I am doubling up this weekend writing also with Ethical ELA about female authors and banned books. It's funny that I am choosing to write about J.K. Rowlings  as I was not really a huge fan of her books in the beginning; however, I am a fan of how she turned on millions of readers and writers to the magic of stories. 

Joanne, it's strange that I would choose to honor your today

I had to plow through and was critical of what was not there

I had to make myself figure out what all the buzz was about

I had to find some of your magic that made them excited.

You, Joanne, have done more for more readers than I 

Could ever do in this lifetime even the with best idea, I

Could not turn on the millions your words spurred who 

Could devour your stories and your magical characters.

Joanne, you may have triggered a few of the naysayers

They didn't see that you knew what readers need

They didn't see the excitement the discussion the wonder

They still look at what isn't rather than what makes readers.

You, Joanne, found the magic touch and deserve 

Praise for staying with it in spite of great hardship

Praise for holding tight to your ideas that challenge others

Praise for helping generations of readers find the wonder.

Please accept this gift of gratitude as well as a reminder to respect the very diverse tastes of readers that mirror the amazing diversity of people.

SOL26 March 22: I Leaned In

I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Group this month sharing bits and pieces of life. In retrospect, I might have been supporting reading or I might have been sneaking a side-hug or I might have been enjoying the warmth of his heart. 

"How many more minutes do I need?" he asked after 5 minutes of looking at the same page without reading a word. I shifted closer hoping for at least a few pages even though I knew he was exhausted.

"I'll give you 30 seconds per page?" I offered figuring he'd give me a quick, negative response. Instead, he slowly but surely started to read, word by word, line by line. I leaned in to bridge that gap between what he might do alone and what he can do with support*. I'll swear that is what I was doing even if I was appreciative of the sort of lean-in-side-hug I was getting and the warmth of his heart. Then, the book was over. 

He got 5 minutes of screen time, which was just enough to find some game and feel as if he had won that round. He brushed his teeth while gaming, practicing multitasking, which is also an important skill. I'd say we both won, but I got the better deal.

Ethical ELA March 26: Quiet Strength

I am writing with Ethical ELA this weekend and the prompt asked us to consider women in our family in our poems today. There are many women I could write about as I am surrounded by strong women who go after what they want and live with their head high. This is a poem about my sister-in-law who was my model for being a mother, who left us too soon, but whose quiet strength is still a motivating force. She really had only one request from me and to be honest I would have done it anyway.

Because if you can be there, I will be forever grateful she said realizing her last grandchild would
Arrive before they returned that spring and knowing I would love on them all in 
Real life until she could be physically present might have been a prophetic wish
Because her timeline was shorter than any of us could have imagined 
And the love already was established allowing for someone to be there
Representing special dresses, concerts, graduations
And remembering we need someone who cares in the background, as I remember the day she said

Just take care of that baby as I struggled with my own crying one years earlier 

And she added, remember these days will fly past and you will wish them back, adding again and again

No problem with every question, request, while showing me mostly with

Examples like how to butterfly a wound and love on your child no matter what

SOL26 March 21: Special Delivery

This month I am writing with Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life.  Sometimes, the slices are right in front of you.....

I noticed her when I brought the trash cans from the curb, laying in the wet grass at the back of the garage. I banged on the can, but let's be honest, a plastic can does not make the kind of sound the old aluminum ones did. I rapped on the can with my hand again and again, but today's cans do not bang like the old ones. 

I saw her standing in the same place later when I glanced out the window at the rain on the horizon.  From the second story it was clear she had a newborn trying to find his first legs. 

I was mesmerized at the special delivery in my backyard on the first day of spring. I did think of trying to get closer and getting a picture (SOL duh!) but then I stopped myself and remembered those magical moments of newborn bliss before the realities of life come back into focus. "It's a dangerous world out there," I thought as his mom urged him forward, "but please spare my hydrangeas, Little Bud."

SOL26: March 20: Essie and Clifford

I am writing with The Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group this month.  During last night's small group, Laney suggested we write memories about our cars. I started thinking about Patty, who looked like an inside out peppermint patty, and Heidi, who liked to pop her top! Then, I thought about the fuel efficient vehicles I have known, such as

Essie, who was part of my new-to-me school, with a longer commute, and my grad work, in the big city, era of life. Her back seat was not fit for passengers, but she boasted about getting 50 miles per gallon as she glided in the tailwinds of the bigger cars on the highway. 

Essie loved her morning runs and even if she was tiny, she proved to be mighty. She did have one issue and that was her lack of an automatic transmission. In order to enter the highway where cars where already moving as if it was the Indy 500, you had to in a engage her clutch and shift from neutral to first gear, and then to second, and then to third, and then to fourth gears. All this had to happen in less than 3 seconds, going from 0 to 65, in what always seemed to be the speed of light. Clearly, it was not a time to sip your coffee. Instead it was a two hands gripping the wheel saying a prayer you did not stall her delicate engine moment. EVERY single time, my life flashed before my eyes as I defied death and headed to school.

That is why after 150,000 hard miles, she asked for and I happily granted her a retirement job going back and forth to the local community college.  It had been as stressful for her as for me.  That is when Clifford entered my life.  He who was still a puppy but a wee bit bigger than Essie.  He loved to run as fast as he could (although a Ford Focus was not considered a sports car in any market) and was thrilled to spend his days in the parking lot of an elementary school (where sometimes students read about his namesake) and his nights in a NYC parking garage! Like his namesake, he was energetic, bubbly, and bright red! 

Everything you might have heard about fire engine colored cars is accurate! He taunted the local police and managed to get us into a few squirmishes with the local constables; yet, he was a breeze to find in any parking lot and you could not miss him as he merged in the early morning darkness where only commuters go and shifted his tiny gears all by himself!  

SOL26: March 19: 30 Second Rule

This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group sharing bits and pieces of my life as they happen. I guess you could say this slice came from a bit of chocolate. 

My grands are growing like weeds after a summer rain and helping me see life from a new perspective. While I am still not a fan of video games, I am starting to see food dropped on the floor in a new light.  Here is the explanation that helped me differentiate when to eat and when to toss. 

He picked up a little piece of chocolate, the kind designed for snacking, from the floor, blew it off, and popped it into his mouth faster than you could say, "Don't eat that." 

"Ugh," I moaned, "it's yucky." I meant it.

"It's OK," he mumbled as he finished chewing, "there's a 3 second rule for most food but a 30 second rule for chocolate!" 

"I've never heard that one," I said and I meant it!

 

SOL26: March 18: Wind Woes!

This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Community. Most days, the slices just pop from real life, like this one that shares the aftermath of a St Patrick's Eve storm that blew through the East Coast and left me wondering!

Wind, that seemed to go right through the windows, kept me up much of the night, so I quickly got ready, unplugged my phone, and dashed out the door. As the car warmed up, I noticed the huge branch on my neighbor's lawn and the debris everywhere. Then, I realized my phone had not charged, so I plugged in for a quick car-charge. "It's one of those mornings," I sighed. 

It was still bitter cold when I returned home and realized the electric kettle was not working and the light was off in the over. For a second, I assumed the power was out until I realized some lights were working!  I determined that everything on one outside wall of the house was out. I was thinking this was storm related. 

I checked the circuit breakers and reset them, one by one, wondering if there was something loose that could cause a fire? Clearly, I was working myself into a frenzy and making no progress! 

I searched Google and determined I should turn the main breaker off and then on which I did, again, to no avail. I was about ready to give up and call an electrician who would likely pat me on the back, flip a switch, and pat his wallet. 

Then, I realized the reset buttons on the kitchen counter outlets were popped out like they do when you come over zealous during a blow-dry. I reset them. Back to normal. Was it storm damage or a leprechaun prank? 

SOL26: March 17: Mugs of Coffee

This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Community. I will be wearing green on this St Patrick's Day in honor of that part of my heritage, but this post is not about the wearing of the green and it's not really about coffee either. 

We ordered coffee and were deep in conversation before the first sip. We swayed between the usual topics of busy kids, crazy weather, long-standing passions, distant memories, heartfelt concerns, and deep fears in a meandering, unfocused way old friends do. Yet, we really aren't old, and the intersection of our friendship is still in the rear view mirror. 

We met someone on a tangential journey, flummoxed with a desire to be in two places at the same time. She threw out one of those ended questions that lingered in the air like the beans roasting nearby. The kind that don't really have an answer but bubble to the surface among friends who sense a common bond that overrides accepts, borders.

We did not solve world peace and we did not even solve our own issues; instead we laid them onto the table, respectful of the many small, middle-sized and enormous challenges, worries, concerns we each face. We were grateful for someone to listen and to help carry the load, for a moment,  Coffee was just the conduit.