Mawwiage

This summer I counted, and no exaggeration, I am an unmarried person who has been to 73 weddings since I was 4 years old, most I have attended since I was 23. I have signed two ketubas and one marriage certificate. I have been in the bridal party of seven of the weddings. I would say, and this is a guess, of the 73 weddings I have cried at 50 of them. Even though I am still single, I still love weddings - even if it sometimes causes me to temporarily and melodramatically dwell sadly on my lack of relationship success. However, this self wallowing is eventually overcome by acknowledging the optimistic beauty of two people who commit to join together through the bonds of love to journey through life as a team ready to encounter whatever emerges, be it the good or the bad.

I know this notion of marriage is idealistic, especially when about one in two marriages end in divorce. But isn’t this continued idealism central to the American spirit that “anything and everything is possible?” It is not this pursuit of the American dream that has made our country, albeit flawed, so great? Think of the basketball player shooting free throws repeatedly outside during the middle of winter to perfect his shot; the immigrant who opens a restaurant with a menu full of food from his native country hoping to provide a better life for his family; the artist who lives in poverty trying to get discovered to someday make a living; the researcher who works with tiny cells hoping to find a cure for cancer. All of these people pursue their goals because they are driven by the idealism that is their right, as an American, to strive for happiness.

This foundation is based on the 17th century philosopher John Locke’s writings that: “Man being born, as has been proved, with a title to perfect freedom, and an uncontrolled enjoyment of all the rights and privileges of the law of nature, equally with any other man, or number of men in the world, hath by nature a power, not only to preserve his property, that is, his life, liberty and estate, against the injuries and attempts of other men.” (source: http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/1690locke-sel.html)

This notion of liberty is taken further in the U.S. Declaration of Independence that “we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” Source: http://www.ushistory.org/declaration/document/index.htm

The next logical question is, “what defines happiness?” Happiness is anything that does not infringe on the natural rights of others. Just because it might make you happy to kill two people, doesn’t mean that it is your natural right to do so because of the harm it inflicts on the two people and their families.

If, as Americans we believe in this idea of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, then laws such as Proposition 8 in California must be repealed or declared unconstitutional and gay marriage should be federally legalized so that all marriages are recognized in every state in the country.

Last week, I spoke with a middle aged woman from California who couldn’t disagree with me more. “I have friends who are gay. I’ve sent them gifts for their commitment ceremonies. I wish them all the love in the world. But you will never convince me differently, marriage is between a man and a woman and that’s final.”

And you know what, she has a right to her opinion. In a way, I know where she’s coming from. I don’t entirely understand homosexuality, but I entirely understand very little when it comes down to it. I have no idea why I’m a heterosexual and why others are homosexual. I cannot relate to the two guys at Whole Foods holding hands choosing which soda to buy. But should opinion or ignorance or lack of understanding alone be the basis of legislation or should the constitutional foundations of our democracy serve as the guideline? She may think that marriage is between a man and a woman, just like there have been people throughout history who have thought that voting was a right only to be held by white men, that blacks and whites should not be able to marry and that Jews should not be welcomed in certain neighborhoods. Eugenics, racism, Nazism, are all based on opinions, but they are opinions that violate the right to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” that we, as Americans, hold sacred, more sacred than any one line from the Hebrew Bible.

If members of the GLBT community believe that marriage will provide them with happiness, then why should they not be allowed to marry? If liberty means equality under the law, then why shouldn’t GLBTs be allowed to obtain the full rights accorded nationwide by marriage? If two members of the same sex want to join together through the bonds of love to journey through life as a team ready to encounter whatever emerges be it the good or the bad, why as fellow Americans, as heterosexual Americans, not wish them all the best.

And if it so happens that my 74th wedding is a gay one, just let me know if it’s casual, semi formal or formal, so I know what dress to wear (or buy), where you are registered, and please invite me with a date if there’s not a lot of single people attending, because it sucks to sit through a wedding alone while everyone is dancing. And please. Make sure your wedding planner does not put me at the kid’s table. I know they are single too, but come on!

Coverage from the LA Times

Mawwiage clip

WTF?

If you need a break from election coverage, yesterday NPR aired a five minute segment on the history of the F-bomb. It wasn't just for kicks. There is a U.S. Supreme Court case about it and oral arguments are today. I'm curious if any of the justices will drop the F-bomb or if they will use other terminology.

It would be cool to hear Justice Ginsburg tell Justice Scalia to.... And she just might if Obama is elected president. No. No. I'm sure they are all friends and then just "bring it on" when it comes time to decide the cases.

The best part of the segment is that it's safe for work - unless you're a teacher. Then maybe not. Or if you work somewhere silent (ashram, library).

Enjoy.

If you want to learn more about the case go to my favorite Supreme Court web site, here.

Political Cartoons

With the decline in the popularity of print media, I worry about the future of one very important element of the daily newspaper: political cartoons. In this longest of presidential campaigns there have been some hysterical political cartoons, but I don’t know that anyone is looking at them.

Part of the problem is that the cartoonists are, with the rest of the world, trying to figure out how to make money on the web. My goal for this blog was to list 10 really funny recent political cartoons. It is very difficult to navigate cartoonist web sites because they want you to look at their work, but then again they don’t want you stealing it ad they’d really rather you look where it’s being syndicated because that’s how they get paid.

I don’t know the answer. But it’s probably not making it difficult to see the cartoons.

The political cartoon has an awesome history, dating back to the 1500s when soon to be Protestants were insulting the pope. The tradition continued through to the 13 colonies who used political cartoons as a means of protesting the British king.

Some of these cartoons go against my political leanings, but they are still funny. One is offensive.

Also, if you’ve seen a good political cartoon lately, share the link with us.

And if you want to sign up for a daily political cartoon, this seems to be the place to do so: http://list.cagle.com/

I am purposely not telling you what they are about because I think it's more fun to just be surprised by the cartoon. It has a bigger effect.

1.
http://z.about.com/d/politicalhumor/1/0/H/P/2/haunted-white-house.jpg


2. http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/chi-edcart-multimediagallery,0,5944816.cartoongallery?index=chi-081030bennett-cartoon

3. http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/chi-081030ramirez-cartoon,0,6633218.cartoon


4.
http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/chi-081024anderson-cartoon,0,3649633.cartoon

5. http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/chi-081024granlund-cartoon,0,958057.cartoon

6. http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/chi-081024ramirez-cartoon,0,1713420.cartoon

7.
http://cagle.com/caglecards/main.asp?image=/news/OJJailed/images/bish.jpg

8. http://statesmanjournal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/section?template=zoom&Site=J0&Date=20081022&Category=OPINION&ArtNo=81021051&Ref=AR&Profile=1048

9.
http://www.comics.com/comics/rudypark/archive/images/rudypark2008111111601.gif

10.
http://editorialcartoonists.com/cartoons/KeefeM/2008/KeefeM20081016_low.jpg

and this is my all time favorite, introduced to me by the folks at Facing History and Ourselves.

http://web.pdx.edu/~tothm/pluralism/street%20calculus.pdf

Help the women of ...

South Dakota. I know. I don't personally know anyone in South Dakota. Neither do you probably. But we need to help protect reproductive rights in South Dakota because if a proposition passes there that severely restricts and criminalizes abortion rights, the same laws could be coming to a state near you.

Donate NOW to http://www.sdhealthyfamilies.org/ to help fight the proposition banning safe abortions for women in South Dakota. I am personally going to donate one hour of my salary from teaching Adult ESL to fight the proposition.

This law just makes me angry. If you disagree with abortion, then don't have one. You can even choose not to go to a doctor who agrees to peform one. But don't tell other women what to do with their bodies or their lives.

If all of the pro life money went to something productive, like protecting children who are already born, then perhaps the world would be a better place.

If you donate, let Scarpeta readers know!

Also, this is what I listened to this morning (they also have an article if you are not interested in the audio) that inspired this blog:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95942981

Hudson's horror highlights a city in crisis

Imagine this scenario: terrorists attack one of America’s greatest cities: the city of Chicago. Four hundred thirty people are killed and countless other are injured. Survivors are traumatized. Children are afraid to go outside. In support of the victims, people all over Chicago and the country patriotically display American flags in their windows and on their cars to send the message that they will never give in to the terrorists. The United States works tireless to plan to retaliate to defend its people, assert its international authority, punish the aggressors and to help Americans, especially Chicagoans, feel secure again.

The mayor of Chicago, the police, and the everyday people turn out to be heroes during this crisis. Measure are taken to study why the attack has happened and how to prevent another attack

This scenario is not so far from reality in Chicago today (except for the heroic parts). About 430 people have been murdered in Chicago in 2008, designating the city the notorious title of murder capital of the United States. The murderers may not be foreign born terrorists, however, the killers are no doubt terrorizing the citizens of Chicago, making the decision of the Batman producers to film Gotham City in the Second City a sadly suitable choice beyond the fitting aesthetics of the dark streets of lower Wacker drive. Indeed, Chicago could use a Batman NOW! in this crime ridden city when the head of the police department and the mayor only demonstrate effete leadership qualities in this crisis.

If the number of people who have died from violent crimes in Chicago had been the victim of Al Quaeda, there would be hell to pay and the greatest minds in the country would be searching for solutions to alleviate, avenge and prevent the tragedies. Instead, there have been nothing but excuses (including that because top gang leaders have been jailed a war is going on for control on the streets.)

Chicago’s violent crime problem has come to light this weekend in the wake of the murders of actress and singer Jennifer Hudson’s mother, brother and nephew in one of the City’s most violent neighborhoods on the South Side: Englewood.

While I hate that my beloved city is highlighted for this horror, I think that it could be a good thing for the City. It may force Chicago, with the help of the state and federal governments, to seek innovative and creative solutions to help lower the murder rate.

The reason that the focus on this issue has been limited is because most of the victims have been poor minorities as Chicago is still largely a segregated city. I only know of one murder in my neighborhood this year.

However, 8 miles south of my residence, people live in fear of going outside. While I hear the sounds of drunk 20somethings coming from the bars, they hear the sounds of screams and gunshots.

What is the solution? I have no idea. However, I do know that just as if there were a terrorist attack killing 430 people in Chicago, we need to focus our resources both intellectual and monetary to solve the problems and stop the killings.

Chicago is home to two top 10 universities: University of Chicago and Northwestern University. In addition, other top thinkers teach and work at University of Illinois at Chicago, DePaul and Loyola universities. Why not bring the top thinkers of these universities, in addition to police, educators, church officials, community organizers and even some politicians (as long as they are quiet and just listen) to brainstorm solutions? Just like the 911 commission, they can publish recommendations at the end of their findings to be implemented by the City.

The Hudson tragedy is horrific. But perhaps, due to her celebrity, she will give voice to others who live in her mother’s neighborhood who have suffered similar losses. And perhaps this case will shed light on the problem of violence that is plaguing some of Chicago’s neighborhoods with seemingly no end in sight. Whatever the reasons, gang violence, drugs, the downturn in the economy, solutions need to be found and they need to be found now. And the fact that the problems are not easy to solve is no excuse for not trying.

Because if these deaths were caused by foreign terrorists, you can be sure that solutions would be found, and found immediately: just because the victims are poor and largely from minority populations, does not make their deaths any less tragic. Their deaths should not be in vain and justice should not just take the form of incarcerating the killers. Justice requires solving the underlying problems that are causing the crimes.

Funny SNL Skit

"President Bush" endorses "John McCain."

The perfect piano teacher

It was a day I had been waiting for what felt like an eternity. Six. I had to be six years old before I could begin. Six was the magic number. First grade. I had to be able to read well. That was the rule. I sat cross legged on the living room floor with bright blue early 80s carpet that summer watching my brother Eric play. When he would finish, I went to it, shiny, big and black with ivory, and pounded away until someone would yell at me to stop because it was annoying them.

My excitement was palpable. We pulled up to her driveway in August of 1982. Her neighborhood had cozy houses with huge, beautiful trees. As I entered, the entire house smelled of cookies. There she was in her trademark sweatpants and bare feet.

“Hello, Sharna. You look just like your dad. I’ve known your mom since we were young girls. Are you ready to begin?”

Hers was different from ours. More modest, but more approachable. Worn but still perfect. A candy bowel sat atop the wood.

“Ok, Sharna, now take your right thumb, no the other thumb, put it here, no here. Good! That is the letter ‘C.’”

Week after week when I was so small that my legs dangled from the bench, I would come to Mrs. Peters’ house and play the piano.

“You played very well this week,” she said to me when I had learned my first song.

“Thank you,” I said. “I can also sing and dance.”

She would laugh this amazing laugh. A laugh filled with hoarseness and vigor. A laugh from her belly. An uninhibited, unapologetic laugh.

I elicited the same laugh a year later right before my brother’s bar mitzvah.

“What are you doing this weekend, Sharna?”

“It’s my brother’s bar mitzvah,” I said. “Are you coming, I’ll be wearing my hair like Princess Leah from Star Wars?”

“No, Sharna, I wasn’t invited,” she said.

I paused and assured her, “Oh Mrs. Peters. Your invitation probably just got lost in the mail.”

She told those two stories to everyone she knew. They were her favorite stories for years.

Every week I would come and play the piano.

“Did you practice?” she would ask.

“Yes,” I would tell as a half truth. I did practice, once maybe twice that week.

She didn’t care if I practiced. She didn’t care that I lied even though she knew every week by how poorly or well I played. We spent a half an hour filled with laughter, music, next week’s “homework,” and that coveted candy. When she would go answer the phone I would pet her dog (I forgot the name!) and shoo away Oscar the mean cat.

The truth is, if Mrs. Peters wanted to, she could have fired me as a student. Most music teachers definitely would have. I barely practiced, I lied about it (eventually she stopped asking), and I wasn’t particularly talented. It’s not like my parents were paying her tons of money to teach me. Maybe $10? Less?

But Mrs. Peters loved me. She just did. I felt that love every time I entered her house. I felt it every time she played the “left hand” and I played the “right hand.” I felt it when she waived good bye from her front door when I walked to my mom’s car. I felt it when occasionally I would play well and she would clap. I felt it when she bought me special Chanukah music (because all she had in her stock pile was Christmas music).

Week after week I would take lessons, almost every week until I was 18. Even when I came home from college I would take lessons. By the time I was in high school, I could play Mozart, Bach and Beethoven-as they rolled in their graves. But as it became clear (when I was 8) that I would not become a concert pianist, Mrs. Peters introduced me to popular music to hold my interest (which we played after the classical music).

Playing piano brought me great joy, even though I wasn’t great at it. When I was upset about something, when I was nervous, I would play on my parents’ piano, and pounded away until someone would yell at me to stop because it was annoying them. When I went to college my freshman year, I played on the baby grand in Foster Harper. When I lived in Israel after college, I played piano in the dining hall at the kibbutz. At the high school I worked at, I would play in the student lounge.

Again, let me be clear. I am not good at piano, but I can play piano. I miss notes, I change rhythms, I have no ear and I can’t memorize a piece to save my life. However, the hours of joy that my limited skill has brought to me are innumerable. I hate playing in front of people outside of my family. It is hard for me to play in front of close friends. My hands shake terribly and I feel sick and insecure.

But that neurosis is not because of Mrs. Peters. She somehow overcame my low self esteem to give me this incredible gift of music. As a kid with Mrs. Peters I wasn’t insecure, I wasn’t fat, as a middle schooler I wasn’t unpopular or ugly, and as a high schooler I wasn’t boyfriendless wearing the wrong clothes. With her it was always about the love of the sound of the music. Put a piece of sheet music in front of me, and I will make it come to life. I will play it. My hands will hit the white keys hard, the passion of the notes enveloping my fore arms. My foot, hitting the pedal, amplifies the notes so that they are probably louder than the composer intended. And if I’m really feeling comfortable, I will sing along, and if I’m there long enough, even harmonize.

When friends (who aren’t pianists or musicians) hear me play for the first time that are incredulous. “I didn’t know you played.” I offer full disclosure that I don’t really.

But the truth is, I do. I can play for hours. I play Natalie Merchant, Fiona Apple, Mozart, Ben Folds, Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, show tunes, Rent, Phil Collins, Disney Music. I’ve played a couple of times in public. I played in a band for one performance with as a keyboardist on my stomach because someone forgot the stand. I played at my youth advisor’s wedding. I played in contests (always earning second in a competition against myself).

Had Mrs. Peters given up on me, had she “fired” me, my fingers would have been silenced. Instead she gave me an incredible, irreplaceable gift: the gift of music.

As a teacher applying to jobs, you are asked to write these hideous educational philosophy statements. I always struggled with that. Teaching is such an innate skill for me, that even after a master’s in education, it seemed to be an impossible task.

Because to be completely honest, sometimes as an educator, I embrace mediocrity. I don’t see the point in telling a kid that she has to be perfect, when perfection isn’t a realistic goal. My standards are high. I still give readings to the equivalent of Mozart. But some kids aren’t going to get there, and making them feel like shit about it serves no useful purpose. And the only times in my life where I quit something was when the coach or teacher used perfection as the standard of success.

I understand that this can’t work in every aspect of life. But really, how many of us are ever actually perfect at anything? And how many of us have stopped doing what we love because we weren’t good enough?

I want the writer who can’t spell to write. I want the dancer who is clumsy to dance. I want the soccer player who can’t run fast to play. I want the actor who isn’t Broadway bound to act.

And I’ll tell you, the times when I sacrificed my joy of something to meet the standards of someone else’s definition of perfection, I lost a part of my soul and only regained it once I reclaimed whatever it was that brought me happiness.

I wonder if anyone ever counted how many children Mrs. Peters taught to play the piano before she died on Sunday. I wonder if anyone knows how many people are out there to whom she gave the gift of music. I wonder how many people remember the different candies for every season that they received after a lesson. I wonder how many people can still hear her laugh in their ears and in their hearts and most importantly at their fingertips.


View Mrs. Peters Obituary

My educational philosophy