We lived across the street from some Native Americans. A couple of their "warriors" came over and there was a skirmish of sorts, no one hurt, but tension was high. Later: A "warrior" came over and came into our house. I looked for a weapon - found an arrow but no bow. I brandished the arrow when the (Is "Indian" not politically correct?) invader came back into the living room. He spoke to me as he ran directly into the arrow, spearing himself in the side. He became a she. There I was, holding and arrow that was speared into a woman. I covered her with a blanket and put her into a makeshift tent in the middle of the room - she was lying on the floor.
There was contact between her and her people. She tried to talk to them and I saw the conversation on a computer screen (even tho the dream started out before phones or electricity) - her words were halting and a bit incoherent. She was trying to say she was ok as she kept losing consciousness. She was saying to tell her children she loved them. Her people thought she was dead. They were hurt and angry - considering revenge.
She stayed in that tent, covered with a blanket all night. I agonized. The next morning I opened the door and called out to the Native Americans across the street and partly into the street - I told them she was alive and asked if they could come get her and do their medicine. They came immediately. They started to take her away but I called out to wait. They brought her back to me. I hugged her (now she could stand - hey, its a dream, ya know) and said that someday she and I would have grandchildren at the same time and enjoy them. She smiled and nodded. The sun rose in my heart.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Local Politics 101
I think the best lessons I learned about how politics work were when I lived rurally. Or perhaps those were the saddest, most painful lessons. Frinstance:
When I lived in a small town and my children were in school, I occasionally attended school board meetings and spoke out if I felt strongly about a subject. A dear friend who was involved in a local political committee asked me to become active on the board so that she could step down, knowing someone like spirited was there. I agreed to attend some of those meetings and see how I felt about it.
At the first meeting I attended, I spoke up about my position on the topic at hand. Immediately, the wife of the very outspoken "conservative leader" verbally attacked me in a shockingly vicious manner. I responded as best I could but it soon became clear that I was not to be allowed to voice ANY opinion without being jumped on by this woman (Lets call her Thelma). Her efforts paid off. I declined my friend's request and avoided attending further meetings.
These people, the outspoken man (let's just call him Jim-Bob for fun), and his personal enforcer, Thelma owned the local rag - a little small town paper that had once been quaint and endearing and delightfully real. Once they acquired the paper, it became a tool for their tirades - grandiosely named a "County" publication - at the same time losing its former foothold in honesty, civility and charm.
Things really got out of hand with that paper. Every person accused of a crime became a "culprit" - there was no sense of "innocent until proven guilty with Jim-Bob. I often wondered why no one sued the paper for these insults and accusations.
Ok, I said out of hand. Seriously out of hand: Some local young folks protested something they felt strongly about and Jim-Bob responded, using the term "piccaninny", among other horrid aspersions. A local person wrote a letter to the editor, wishing the paper would report locally relevant info, such as the proposed cutting of a majestic stand of trees, rather than reflecting negatively on the efforts of youth. Jim-Bob's response was to write a scathing and ugly piece - and threatening to kick the writer's ass up and down main street.
Ok, that's the background to what I set out to share today. And here we go.
At one school board meeting I spoke about various things I felt, including that we should have some money going toward the arts and not just toward sports. Also I spoke out strongly against putting a coke machine in the quad of our tiny campus. The paper had a writer (a very nice lady) who wrote a review column of the school board meetings. She mistakenly gave me credit for a quote in that column. Another parent was actually the one who had said the quoted words. While I am willing to be judged and held responsible for the things I do say, I did not feel comfortable having my stance improperly reflected in "a county wide" publication :P
I thought about writing a letter to the editor asking for a correction but I did not feel comfortable submitting ANYTHING in writing since my friends had been castigated for their efforts. I knew Thelma. When she was not jumping on me in public meetings to be sure no one injected any thoughts of reason during her husband's tirades, she did some community service projects to which I contributed through my store. I had reason to go to the newspaper office in the course of that relationship so while I was there one morning, I mentioned that I would like a correction in the paper, that I had been credited with saying something at the school board meeting which in fact, I had not.
Thelma was there and so was Jim-Bob. They came out when they heard me asking the clerk to make the correction and informed me that I would need to write a letter to the editor and formally request it. I replied that I hesitated to write any letter to the editor after seeing the responses FROM the editor, so I would prefer to just let them know. When pressed on that point, I mentioned the above incidents. That really pissed off ol' Thelma and Jim-Bob. They puffed up bigger and their faces twisted. It was ugly. They took turns hurling insults and accusations at me. In response to one accusation I agreed that I did actually believe in human rights and dignity.
My world burst apart right there. Suddenly I was in a mad, mad world. They were both coming at me physically in the most horrifying, frightening way imaginable - bellowing that I was a f(*ing hypocrite and a f)*(ing communist - I burst for the door, ran down the stairs literally in fear of my life - and NEVER set foot in that office again. Never advertised in that paper again, or bought one.
I am ashamed to say it took my own personal encounter to make me boycott that paper. Simply calling my friend's child a piccaninny should have been enough. Threatening to kick another friend's ass up and down main street (along with a few vile insults) should have been enough. Ah, lesson learned. We MUST stand up for each other.
K then.
When I lived in a small town and my children were in school, I occasionally attended school board meetings and spoke out if I felt strongly about a subject. A dear friend who was involved in a local political committee asked me to become active on the board so that she could step down, knowing someone like spirited was there. I agreed to attend some of those meetings and see how I felt about it.
At the first meeting I attended, I spoke up about my position on the topic at hand. Immediately, the wife of the very outspoken "conservative leader" verbally attacked me in a shockingly vicious manner. I responded as best I could but it soon became clear that I was not to be allowed to voice ANY opinion without being jumped on by this woman (Lets call her Thelma). Her efforts paid off. I declined my friend's request and avoided attending further meetings.
These people, the outspoken man (let's just call him Jim-Bob for fun), and his personal enforcer, Thelma owned the local rag - a little small town paper that had once been quaint and endearing and delightfully real. Once they acquired the paper, it became a tool for their tirades - grandiosely named a "County" publication - at the same time losing its former foothold in honesty, civility and charm.
Things really got out of hand with that paper. Every person accused of a crime became a "culprit" - there was no sense of "innocent until proven guilty with Jim-Bob. I often wondered why no one sued the paper for these insults and accusations.
Ok, I said out of hand. Seriously out of hand: Some local young folks protested something they felt strongly about and Jim-Bob responded, using the term "piccaninny", among other horrid aspersions. A local person wrote a letter to the editor, wishing the paper would report locally relevant info, such as the proposed cutting of a majestic stand of trees, rather than reflecting negatively on the efforts of youth. Jim-Bob's response was to write a scathing and ugly piece - and threatening to kick the writer's ass up and down main street.
Ok, that's the background to what I set out to share today. And here we go.
At one school board meeting I spoke about various things I felt, including that we should have some money going toward the arts and not just toward sports. Also I spoke out strongly against putting a coke machine in the quad of our tiny campus. The paper had a writer (a very nice lady) who wrote a review column of the school board meetings. She mistakenly gave me credit for a quote in that column. Another parent was actually the one who had said the quoted words. While I am willing to be judged and held responsible for the things I do say, I did not feel comfortable having my stance improperly reflected in "a county wide" publication :P
I thought about writing a letter to the editor asking for a correction but I did not feel comfortable submitting ANYTHING in writing since my friends had been castigated for their efforts. I knew Thelma. When she was not jumping on me in public meetings to be sure no one injected any thoughts of reason during her husband's tirades, she did some community service projects to which I contributed through my store. I had reason to go to the newspaper office in the course of that relationship so while I was there one morning, I mentioned that I would like a correction in the paper, that I had been credited with saying something at the school board meeting which in fact, I had not.
Thelma was there and so was Jim-Bob. They came out when they heard me asking the clerk to make the correction and informed me that I would need to write a letter to the editor and formally request it. I replied that I hesitated to write any letter to the editor after seeing the responses FROM the editor, so I would prefer to just let them know. When pressed on that point, I mentioned the above incidents. That really pissed off ol' Thelma and Jim-Bob. They puffed up bigger and their faces twisted. It was ugly. They took turns hurling insults and accusations at me. In response to one accusation I agreed that I did actually believe in human rights and dignity.
My world burst apart right there. Suddenly I was in a mad, mad world. They were both coming at me physically in the most horrifying, frightening way imaginable - bellowing that I was a f(*ing hypocrite and a f)*(ing communist - I burst for the door, ran down the stairs literally in fear of my life - and NEVER set foot in that office again. Never advertised in that paper again, or bought one.
I am ashamed to say it took my own personal encounter to make me boycott that paper. Simply calling my friend's child a piccaninny should have been enough. Threatening to kick another friend's ass up and down main street (along with a few vile insults) should have been enough. Ah, lesson learned. We MUST stand up for each other.
K then.
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