A very helpful person at Google helped me edit my blog site so you can now subscribe to my blog directly to your email if you want to. Scroll down to the very bottom and you will find this option.
If everybody who has shared my blog link in the past off Facebook would share this one, your friends who are not (officially) my friends will be able to follow me directly if they want to.
Thanks to one and all!
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
We need to stay informed
Actually, the title of the blog may be redundant for anybody taking the trouble to read this. Information is inundating us these days. However, while I am doing some research for the next post I want to create, I ran across this image, and felt compelled to share it. We really do need to hold Trump and his administration accountable, folks.
Credit to Marisa R. Miller.
I'll be back in a couple of days!
Credit to Marisa R. Miller.
I'll be back in a couple of days!
Thursday, January 26, 2017
It's not just for drugs any more
I have been enormously impressed by the Badlands National Park. Have you been following this story? My source is Scientific American, which I consider reputable. Incidentally, my sister Pat and I have spent many happy days at Badlands National Park in South Dakota. One of the trails we regularly hiked is marked by metal stakes in the ground, maybe 4' high (I'm bad at judging such things) with red paint on the top few inches. Stand by a stake and sight the next one, walk to it and sight the next one. I was used to trails you followed because they were beaten dirt in the midst of undergrowth and stuff. The Badlands are really fascinating.
ANYWAY . . . One of the first things the Trump administration has done is to shut down scientific public communications. The National Park Service was ordered not to tweet. The EPA was not only prohibited from using social media but required to remove a page on climate change from its website. Grants and contracting were frozen. The USDA was silent for several days. While the main Twitter feed of the National Park Service followed orders, Badlands National Park started tweeting climate change statistics, 140 characters at a time. Here's a screenshot of some of them:
If I'm not mistaken, they started sending out these tweets on January 24. That afternoon, everything was erased. However, a new account called AltUSNatParkService was created. Here was their stated reason for existing:
(I believe credit for these screen shots goes to Dana Hunter. Good job, Dana!)
See, the thing is, sometimes you have to Just Say No. When "they" tell you you have to do something, or you're not allowed to do something, sometimes you have to Just Say No. Let's not beat around the bush -- that can get you into big trouble. But somehow I feel if the folks at Badlands should lose their jobs, or the ones behind AltUSNatParkService are found out and punished, they'll feel that it was worth it. The truth needs to be spoken. Lies need to be exposed. And simply giving in to bad orders gives too much power to the bad order givers. Sometimes you have to Just Say No.
In 1846, Henry David Thoreau was jailed for not paying his poll tax. He was visited in jail by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Emerson said, "Henry, what are you doing in there?" Thoreau responded, "Ralph, what are you doing out there?" Disobedience is sometimes called for. Disobedience in order to stand up for the truth and refuse to legitimize tyranny is not unpatriotic.
Sometimes the genuine patriot needs to Just Say No.
ANYWAY . . . One of the first things the Trump administration has done is to shut down scientific public communications. The National Park Service was ordered not to tweet. The EPA was not only prohibited from using social media but required to remove a page on climate change from its website. Grants and contracting were frozen. The USDA was silent for several days. While the main Twitter feed of the National Park Service followed orders, Badlands National Park started tweeting climate change statistics, 140 characters at a time. Here's a screenshot of some of them:
If I'm not mistaken, they started sending out these tweets on January 24. That afternoon, everything was erased. However, a new account called AltUSNatParkService was created. Here was their stated reason for existing:
(I believe credit for these screen shots goes to Dana Hunter. Good job, Dana!)
See, the thing is, sometimes you have to Just Say No. When "they" tell you you have to do something, or you're not allowed to do something, sometimes you have to Just Say No. Let's not beat around the bush -- that can get you into big trouble. But somehow I feel if the folks at Badlands should lose their jobs, or the ones behind AltUSNatParkService are found out and punished, they'll feel that it was worth it. The truth needs to be spoken. Lies need to be exposed. And simply giving in to bad orders gives too much power to the bad order givers. Sometimes you have to Just Say No.
In 1846, Henry David Thoreau was jailed for not paying his poll tax. He was visited in jail by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Emerson said, "Henry, what are you doing in there?" Thoreau responded, "Ralph, what are you doing out there?" Disobedience is sometimes called for. Disobedience in order to stand up for the truth and refuse to legitimize tyranny is not unpatriotic.
Sometimes the genuine patriot needs to Just Say No.
Saturday, January 21, 2017
Women's March
The reason I reconceptualized this blog was feeling so cut off from events in the U.S., helpless to do anything about anything. So, as so many people I know were preparing to march in Washington or closer to home, here I sat again, unable to participate.
WELL . . . Sarah of the Jubilee House suddenly up and decided yesterday that she needed to be a presence today outside the U.S. embassy in Managua. Did anybody want to go with her? Most of us from Jubilee House wanted to, including both Kathleen's mother and Becca's mother, our long-term volunteer Grace, and four Nicaraguan women from our personnel staff. Sarah, Grace, and Becca sent out announcements on a couple of lists they belong to.
And this morning, on less than 24-hour notice, we had a group of FIFTY PEOPLE standing outside the U.S. embassy with signs of solidarity and protest. Mostly women, but an impressive number of men, one of whom had a sign that said, "Real men are feminists." Mostly folks from the U.S., but a good representation of Nicaraguans as well. A number of children (our two Jubilee House children included, of course), the littlest of whom had a sign that said, "Be tolerant of unicorns and all living beings." Saturday morning -- there probably weren't very many people in the actual embassy to notice us. But we held up our signs for passing vehicles, and when a driver tooted her or his support, we sent back a rousing cheer.
It was really nice to feel part of a group of people, all come together to say "no" to our nightmare visions of what the Trump administration could be and "yes" to unity, respect, and solidarity.
The media showed up and took pictures and interviewed as many people as they could. I translated for Peggy, Kathleen's mom, who was there in her wheelchair. She avowed that when people were equal, things went better. The reporter then asked me why I was there. I said, "I'm afraid of what might happen in the Trump administration. So I'm here to express . . . " and then since I was speaking Spanish, I concluded, "el pueblo unido jamas sera vencido." Which means a united people can never be defeated. The reporter gave me a huge smile for that one.
Here's a picture. I am the tubby little woman with the red shirt and long blue and white skirt. Many people were wearing pink (one woman had even improvised herself a pussy hat), but I decided red-white-and-blue was the way to go for this one.
And all because Sarah up and decided to go. Puts me in mind of Margaret Meade's famous quote: Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.
P.S. A friend of mine tried to comment on my last entry, and her comments kept vanishing. If anybody else has the same experience or a different one, let me know. I can't see anything amiss in my settings. Thanks!
WELL . . . Sarah of the Jubilee House suddenly up and decided yesterday that she needed to be a presence today outside the U.S. embassy in Managua. Did anybody want to go with her? Most of us from Jubilee House wanted to, including both Kathleen's mother and Becca's mother, our long-term volunteer Grace, and four Nicaraguan women from our personnel staff. Sarah, Grace, and Becca sent out announcements on a couple of lists they belong to.
And this morning, on less than 24-hour notice, we had a group of FIFTY PEOPLE standing outside the U.S. embassy with signs of solidarity and protest. Mostly women, but an impressive number of men, one of whom had a sign that said, "Real men are feminists." Mostly folks from the U.S., but a good representation of Nicaraguans as well. A number of children (our two Jubilee House children included, of course), the littlest of whom had a sign that said, "Be tolerant of unicorns and all living beings." Saturday morning -- there probably weren't very many people in the actual embassy to notice us. But we held up our signs for passing vehicles, and when a driver tooted her or his support, we sent back a rousing cheer.
It was really nice to feel part of a group of people, all come together to say "no" to our nightmare visions of what the Trump administration could be and "yes" to unity, respect, and solidarity.
The media showed up and took pictures and interviewed as many people as they could. I translated for Peggy, Kathleen's mom, who was there in her wheelchair. She avowed that when people were equal, things went better. The reporter then asked me why I was there. I said, "I'm afraid of what might happen in the Trump administration. So I'm here to express . . . " and then since I was speaking Spanish, I concluded, "el pueblo unido jamas sera vencido." Which means a united people can never be defeated. The reporter gave me a huge smile for that one.
Here's a picture. I am the tubby little woman with the red shirt and long blue and white skirt. Many people were wearing pink (one woman had even improvised herself a pussy hat), but I decided red-white-and-blue was the way to go for this one.
And all because Sarah up and decided to go. Puts me in mind of Margaret Meade's famous quote: Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.
P.S. A friend of mine tried to comment on my last entry, and her comments kept vanishing. If anybody else has the same experience or a different one, let me know. I can't see anything amiss in my settings. Thanks!
Friday, January 20, 2017
Inauguration Day
I've been thinking for days that as the inauguration came nearer I really should write an entry to this blog. I've been too depressed to come up with anything to say. For weeks in our community worship time when invited to share good things with each other, I've said, "Trump isn't President yet." I can't say that anymore.
Together with many other Americans, I refused to watch the inauguration as it was happening. I did, however, read the text of the inaugural address. [It's going to take me a while to be able to use the phrase "President Trump" in a sentence -- as in "President Trump's address."]
I was, actually, amazed. If I hadn't known whose speech it was, I might not have guessed Donald Trump. I agree with almost 100% of the things he said. And although I didn't agree with all of them, he invited me to dialogue honestly about disagreements.
If the man who is about to take the reins of government turns out to be faithful to the words expressed in this speech, I will happily be able to speak about President Trump.
Perhaps cynically, I have a hard time understanding how a millionaire is going to represent the millions of people suffering from the hardships of stagnant local economies and generations of inner-city poverty. I have a hard time understanding how our educational system is going to be improved for our beautiful youth if Trump's nominee for Secretary of Education doesn't think the federal government should support education for students with special needs. I'm not even sure how the planet is going to survive if the Secretary of Energy and the head of the EPA don't believe in climate change. To be honest, I don't have a lot more hope than I had yesterday.
But, you know, maybe I do have a LITTLE bit of hope. Maybe he does believe those things he said, and maybe he will try to act on them. If yesterday I had no hope at all and today I have a little bit, that's an infinite improvement, isn't it?
I'm still going to join our local Women's March tomorrow in Managua, Nicaragua. Whether Trump really intends to govern as he said, or whether it's just more political you-know-what, we -- the people -- need to hold him accountable for the general welfare.
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Christmas Eve
Merry Christmas.
I went to the Christmas Eve candlelight service at the Central Moravian Church of Managua last night, and this serial reflection seemed worth sharing.
One of the scripture readings was Isaiah 60:2:
Darkness now covers the earth,
and thick darkness covers the nations.
But the LORD dawns,
and his glory appears over you.
I do feel that darkness is covering the earth as we head into 2017. The vision of God's dawning in that darkness gives me hope.
Then after several other scripture passages and LOTS of Christmas songs sung with good spirit in three different languages (English, Spanish, and Miskito -- the Central Moravian Church is culturally diverse), the individual candles were passed out to each person, and we sang:
Jesus bids us shine with a clear, pure light,
Like a little candle burning in the night.
In this world of darkness, we must shine,
You in your small corner, and I in mine.
God is certainly able to intervene directly in this world S/he created, and I could tell you many stories from my own personal experience that appear to be such interventions to me. But most often God works through agents -- and that means you and me, each in our small corner.
But that wasn't the end. We were invited to raise our candles high. In the dark sanctuary with all the electric lights turned off, it's amazing how much light a couple hundred candles can shed, and how beautiful they are, all those sparkling points of light. And this time we sang:
This little light of mine -- I'm going to let it shine.
This little light of mine -- I'm going to let it shine,
Let is shine, let it shine, let it shine.
I take hope that God's light will never fail. I take inspiration from Jesus' call that I be that light in my small corner. And together with my sisters and brothers I pledge my commitment to let my light shine.
Merry Christmas.
(This is my Advent/Christmas creche, with all five candles now lit.)
I went to the Christmas Eve candlelight service at the Central Moravian Church of Managua last night, and this serial reflection seemed worth sharing.
One of the scripture readings was Isaiah 60:2:
Darkness now covers the earth,
and thick darkness covers the nations.
But the LORD dawns,
and his glory appears over you.
I do feel that darkness is covering the earth as we head into 2017. The vision of God's dawning in that darkness gives me hope.
Then after several other scripture passages and LOTS of Christmas songs sung with good spirit in three different languages (English, Spanish, and Miskito -- the Central Moravian Church is culturally diverse), the individual candles were passed out to each person, and we sang:
Jesus bids us shine with a clear, pure light,
Like a little candle burning in the night.
In this world of darkness, we must shine,
You in your small corner, and I in mine.
God is certainly able to intervene directly in this world S/he created, and I could tell you many stories from my own personal experience that appear to be such interventions to me. But most often God works through agents -- and that means you and me, each in our small corner.
But that wasn't the end. We were invited to raise our candles high. In the dark sanctuary with all the electric lights turned off, it's amazing how much light a couple hundred candles can shed, and how beautiful they are, all those sparkling points of light. And this time we sang:
This little light of mine -- I'm going to let it shine.
This little light of mine -- I'm going to let it shine,
Let is shine, let it shine, let it shine.
I take hope that God's light will never fail. I take inspiration from Jesus' call that I be that light in my small corner. And together with my sisters and brothers I pledge my commitment to let my light shine.
Merry Christmas.
(This is my Advent/Christmas creche, with all five candles now lit.)
Monday, December 19, 2016
History not being made
In 1968 the Democratic National Convention was held in Chicago, and I was home from college for the summer there. The convention was marked by urgent demonstrations outside the meeting hall, demonstrations that the Chicago Police Department broke up with (in my opinion) totally unnecessary violence. It was one of the occasions when folks were chanting, "The whole world is watching!" And those were the days before the internet.
Dick Gregory applied for a parade permit, which was denied on the basis of the unsettledness of everything. So he headed south down Michigan Avenue anyway, and when he was confronted -- this time by the National Guard, which was much more professional in its security measures -- he explained that he and a few friends had decided to walk home. To the south-side ghetto. A few friends, well, maybe 100 or 200.
My mother lived on South Michigan Avenue. I declared my intention of going up to watch the confrontation between Dick Gregory and the National Guard. My mother admitted that she couldn't stop me if I was determined to go, but she hoped I was willing to walk because she wouldn't give me the car keys and buses would be few and far between at that hour of the night. "History is being made 3 miles from here!" I insisted. "It can be made without you being there in danger," my mother replied. My mother was not known in her parenting for taking a stand, but she sure did this time. I sat in the house fuming, not being able to be where history was being made.
Now that we're all on the internet, I was hoping to have a ring-side seat for history being made today. I was SO hoping that the Electoral College would do their constitutionally-appointed job and elect a President competent to hold the office. Wouldn't that have been exciting to see? Unfortunately, almost all of them abdicated that responsibility and rubber-stamped their state's vote. So now we really will have a Trump presidency.
I would have loved to have had a(n) historical moment like this one that didn't happen during my lifetime. I would have loved even more not to have to face at least 4 years of the disaster that I (and many others) foresee under -- can I force my fingers to type this? -- President Donald J. Trump. The world did not respond to my wishes. So we go on from here, looking for ways to be faithful. God bless us all.
Dick Gregory applied for a parade permit, which was denied on the basis of the unsettledness of everything. So he headed south down Michigan Avenue anyway, and when he was confronted -- this time by the National Guard, which was much more professional in its security measures -- he explained that he and a few friends had decided to walk home. To the south-side ghetto. A few friends, well, maybe 100 or 200.
My mother lived on South Michigan Avenue. I declared my intention of going up to watch the confrontation between Dick Gregory and the National Guard. My mother admitted that she couldn't stop me if I was determined to go, but she hoped I was willing to walk because she wouldn't give me the car keys and buses would be few and far between at that hour of the night. "History is being made 3 miles from here!" I insisted. "It can be made without you being there in danger," my mother replied. My mother was not known in her parenting for taking a stand, but she sure did this time. I sat in the house fuming, not being able to be where history was being made.
Now that we're all on the internet, I was hoping to have a ring-side seat for history being made today. I was SO hoping that the Electoral College would do their constitutionally-appointed job and elect a President competent to hold the office. Wouldn't that have been exciting to see? Unfortunately, almost all of them abdicated that responsibility and rubber-stamped their state's vote. So now we really will have a Trump presidency.
I would have loved to have had a(n) historical moment like this one that didn't happen during my lifetime. I would have loved even more not to have to face at least 4 years of the disaster that I (and many others) foresee under -- can I force my fingers to type this? -- President Donald J. Trump. The world did not respond to my wishes. So we go on from here, looking for ways to be faithful. God bless us all.
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