transitions, holidays & scratching

F8FE9971-36D3-4C2F-9DAF-16512D3E1919State of my world:

Julia’s head scratching has not abated with the delousing and aftermath.  She is losing hair and areas without hair are increasingly visible to the casual observer.  I think she is doing most of her scratching at night before she goes to sleep and when she is alone in the bathroom.  Anxiety, habit, stimming or something else?  Years ago, the way she finally stopped scratching her skin was on a three-strike-and-she-was-sent-home-from-school program.  It was radical and it worked.  I don’t know right now how much scratching is going on at school — I’m checking.  I don’t think that school staff would be willing to put such a discipline into effect.  Of course, if it is mostly at night, that it wouldn’t work anyway. I am in full worry mode.  We will visit our doctor next Tuesday and her shrink on Thursday.   OT is working on it as well. Needless to say, I am without control.

I spoke with a local reporter yesterday about Shabazz High School and my experience last spring when Julia applied for admission and was first asked for an interview and then rejected before the interview took place.  I talked about inconsistent messages and requirements, and apparent exclusion of kids with IEPs.  I told him that just before school closed for the summer and we were about to travel, how I got a call that they were reconsidering everyone who had applied and was rejected.  (I don’t remember if it was rejected without interview.)  Julia couldn’t interview before traveling and when we returned home, I check out the requirements again.  Julia had been summarily rejected for not doing grade level math.  Neither the requirement for doing grade level math nor her math skills had changed.  I decided not to put her through an interview.  I acknowledged to the reporter that the school has been good for kids there and I didn’t want to jeopardize the school for those kids.  And yet, what of kids like Julia?  I am conflicted. Continue reading

vote

I’m having a hard time writing.  With all that is swirling around in the greater Madison/ Wisconsin/USA world, with pipe bombs and the massacre in Pittsburg and the killing of Kroger shoppers in Kentucky–all just in the last week–I find it hard to take the petty concerns of my days seriously. Can we all vote now or on November 6?  Can we vote for Democratic candidates no matter how we’ve voted in the past?  We need to break the choke hold that the current administration has on the rhetoric of our nation.  I’m sorry to ask good Republicans, moderates, fiscal conservatives to betray your party.  But really, is it your party?  I find it hard to believe that the Republican judges I worked for and those I knew in the legal Indy community approve of what the Executive and Legislative branches of out federal government are doing.  Or saying.  It is horrifying to see a major American political party welcome Nazis, White Supremacists and misogynists into its ranks.  It is appalling to hear a president’s speak so disrespectfully of people, institutions, agencies that are vital to our way of life.  Today’s insult, to nullify the long-accepted constitutional guarantee of birthright citizenship in the United States via executive order is absurd.  He must know that.  It is, however, a great way to rally the racists.  And when it proves not possible, he will lie and say he never said it and those same racists will believe him.  How can you stand his lies? 3084 since his inauguration, some possibly not intentional but for a president to lie unintentionally is no excuse.  It just means he didn’t both to find out the truth. Continue reading

heroes, seasons and homecoming

B92CB329-96DB-4F8A-A23E-0D485A239D79I began this two days ago and wrote more in the morning, the day after Judge Kavanaugh complained the his “family and [] name have been totally and permanently destroyed.” He also said what goes around, comes around.  I believe Christine Blasey Ford. I believed Professor Anita Hill.  These women have showed courage beyond my wildest dreams.  My thoughts of the season pale beside their actions.  I honor them.

Still, I write.

Ah, the turning of the season!  Last week or late the week before, I noticed a few fringes of red on the trees I see driving on the Beltway.  Why don’t I know the names of trees? I could say the oaks are redding, the maples show scarlet.  Maybe one day. Not today.  Closer to home, the ashes are yellowing and dropping those tiny yellows so that the street gutters are looking messy with yellows and greens and browns.  I love that clutter.  Every year at this time, I remind myself never to buy a house in this season.  The colors, the wind, the crackle of cold air, the smell of first logs in fireplaces and the clutter of leaves lining the gutters in streets—I would be romanced, swept off my feet.  I would not make a sensible decision. Continue reading

walk out & choir concert

AB3B3B29-E24E-4D55-A30A-A54CD25329EAYesterday, on the month anniversary of the massacre by a 19-year old using a semi-automatic style weapon at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, which left 17 dead and 14 injured, students all over the United States walked out of class to protest gun violence and to demand action by their lawmakers.  These clear, young eyes see the NRA’s emasculation of the GOP, the party which controls all three branches of our federal government and 33 state houses across the USA.  They see that the best the GOP president can do is host a roundtable discussion about violent video games after the NRA made him walk back his gun control comments. I’ve heard and read “grown-ups” criticizing students for meddling in issues they do not understand and insinuating that the protesters only wanted to get out of classes, but possibly those “grown-ups” know a very different kind of student than I know.  I applaud the students who organized demonstrations of all sorts yesterday and who intend to demand more from the rest of us to end gun violence with gun control. Continue reading

catch up

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Beginning of winder holidays 2017!

The wind has been howling for 27 hours sweeping away the last unseasonable warmth of the year.  The sun is brighter today than midsummer and shinning in unusual windows at unexpected angles.  The barometric pressure is . . . all over the place(?).  Snow by the end of the week.

I usually blame early winter decorations and Christmas music on Julia’s desires. This year I take some credit.  Daily news is an assault on the democratic principle I believe in. Not just democracy–greed and cruelty are on the rise, spearheaded by a Republican party that has been highjacked by the the worst of humanity. The lyrics from Cool, Cool Considerate Men from the musical 1776, repeat in my head over and over through the ever increasing disgusting trump news cycles:

Well, perhaps [there are not enough men of property in America to dictate policy]. But don’t forget that most men with nothing would rather protect the possibility of becoming rich than face the reality of being poor.
And that is why they will follow us!
To the right, ever to the right
Never to the left, forever to the right.

Continue reading

just my view from the porch this evening

Countries, governments, empires rise and fall.  I was not a bad student of history. I learned the three to five to seven reasons why Greece and Rome and the city states of Italy and England and France and various dynasties of China fell.  Somewhere in those reasons was usually some catastrophic event— a war lost or a prolonged war won but leaving a weakened empire or a natural disaster. I imagined that the linchpin of any fall was that catastrophic event.

When David and I lived in Frascati, Italy, we would talk politics with our landlord and his young adult children.  Mr. Maoli told us that the United States was powerful now but that as a nation we were children. He said that once there was nothing stronger than Rome, and in another age Venice, Siena, Florence and Genoa were all powerful. And now, they were not. I agreed. He made sense. Nothing, even a democracy, even the leader of the free world, lasts forever. Continue reading

week’s end

 

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Lunch at cheesecake factory.

Sunday: 62 degrees at the end of February.  We must be outside, but I do not feel free to dictate in public.  Sigh.  Ego or just not wanting mothers with small children to move away from me.   So I type with one hand.  Slowly and with fewer capitals.  We’re at Burney’s Beach, a tiny made-beach on our bay, after a special ed advocate’s meeting  in a coffee shop.  Julia is sculpting in the sand and I . . . I sit like a turtle in the sun craving the warm, gentle warmth.  This is the time of year when I can imagine giving up the four seasons in favor of eternal spring.

The meeting: Politically, I am totally out of the educational policy loop.  It will be an effort if I want to catch up.  I need to if I want to figure out what I can contribute.  Believing that the way to change is at the local level where passion lies, the spirit is willing . . . Continue reading

doings

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Julia’s impression of the Women’s March

Promising myself for my birthday that I was going to write every day come hell or high water . . . umm, last night I was ready to sit to write about 10 minutes before my eyes were ready to close.  Some of it busy but some of it just puttering.  What am i avoiding? I can’t even do a sit-down-write justice right now, but I can scribble a few doings. Continue reading

of rabbit holes and safety pins

I’ve started writing almost every day since Tuesday and went straight down the rabbit hole of self-pity.  It was a greater pity than “self,” making the hole deeper and wider and so easy to tumble into.  Having no partner to debrief with adds to the rabbit hole quality of the writing.  I read articles by those who have written eloquently.  What do I have to add?  I thought of posting links to all the articles that I’ve read.  For days, I could post links.  Instead, I tried to find quiet.  Not an easy tasks with the furies and demons circling. Continue reading

magical thinking

 

After watching the debates and talking about the election in school, Julia is very much into it.  She fished out an old Obama button from some treasure trove and is wearing it along with two new Hillary buttons.  Her assignment for Tuesday is to color a map as results come in.  She told me that she is going to color the whole thing blue before any results come in.  Magical thinking to be sure, but she’s got the right idea.   Continue reading