The library books Emily delivered this week. They come from all over Maine thanks to inter library loan. I love being a part of a vibrant community of readers.
Sent from my U.S.Cellular© Smartphone
Friday, January 29, 2021
The Mothers
The Mothers
Adult Fiction
"...All good secrets have a taste before you tell them, and if
we'd taken a moment to swish this one around our mouths, we might have
noticed the sourness of an unripe secret, plucked too soon, stolen and
passed around before its season, a secret that began the spring Nadia
Turner got knocked up by the preacher's son and went to the abortion
clinic downtown to take care of it."
When I read The Vanishing Half (Recall the twin sisters who
ended up living it totally different worlds when one chose to pass as
white?) I was totally impressed with Brit Bennett's ability to blend
racial issues with people's everyday hope and fear based decisions and
their repercussions. When I learned that she had written an earlier
book I was over the moon. I went about obtaining it through the new
normal pandemic channels. It was well worth the wait.
We first meet Nadia in the summer after her high school
graduation, shortly after her mother's unexpected suicide. She's
desperate to go off to college and make a fresh start, away from the
community which will always see her in light of the tragedy. She's
sleeping with the minister's son. She isn't thinking on what could go
wrong. When she discovers that she's pregnant abortion seems like the
only viable option.
Minister's son Luke was a football star in college until
sidelined by an injury. He walks with a limp. When we meet him he's
adrift, waiting tables at a dive and clueless about what he wants to
do with his life.
Nadia's classmate, Aubrey, had fled from her criminally
negligent mother and abusive stepfather to live with older sister, Mo,
and Mo's girlfriend, Kacey.
"...She was saved at sixteen, and since then she'd attended
church services each week and volunteered for the children's ministry,
the homeless ministry, the bereavement committee. Babies, bums,
grief..."
The Mothers follows Nadia, Luke, and Aubrey for that summer and
the subsequent decades during which their lives remain often awkwardly
and sometimes painfully interconnected. It's a journey you'll want to
make.
Oh, yeah, you're probably wondering why this book is called The
Mothers...
...read it and find out.
On a purrrsonal note, this has been a really big week for me.
1) My baby, Adam, is 24 today. Happy Birthday wishes to my wonderful
son! He and his fiancée stopped over for a lovely visit Tuesday
night. That made my month.
2) My semester started Monday. So far it's review. I'm mostly
excited but a little nervous.
3) Tobago had her annual checkup. She is the feline picture of health.
4) The furnace stopped working Monday night. The trailer was
freezing. Luckily a guy came out and fixed it. We don't have to
replace it. Yet.
5) My program had a zoom picture taken of current students for
prospective ones. I zoom saw some friends I really have been missing.
(Jules).
The hoomans will all get vaccinations. Ha ha! And it was great
seeing Adam and Asia. (Tobago)
Great big shout outs go out to Adam and Asia, the furnace repair guy
and all his coworkers doing their very essential work, the Veazie Vet
crew, and all students and professors starting a new semester.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult Fiction
"...All good secrets have a taste before you tell them, and if
we'd taken a moment to swish this one around our mouths, we might have
noticed the sourness of an unripe secret, plucked too soon, stolen and
passed around before its season, a secret that began the spring Nadia
Turner got knocked up by the preacher's son and went to the abortion
clinic downtown to take care of it."
When I read The Vanishing Half (Recall the twin sisters who
ended up living it totally different worlds when one chose to pass as
white?) I was totally impressed with Brit Bennett's ability to blend
racial issues with people's everyday hope and fear based decisions and
their repercussions. When I learned that she had written an earlier
book I was over the moon. I went about obtaining it through the new
normal pandemic channels. It was well worth the wait.
We first meet Nadia in the summer after her high school
graduation, shortly after her mother's unexpected suicide. She's
desperate to go off to college and make a fresh start, away from the
community which will always see her in light of the tragedy. She's
sleeping with the minister's son. She isn't thinking on what could go
wrong. When she discovers that she's pregnant abortion seems like the
only viable option.
Minister's son Luke was a football star in college until
sidelined by an injury. He walks with a limp. When we meet him he's
adrift, waiting tables at a dive and clueless about what he wants to
do with his life.
Nadia's classmate, Aubrey, had fled from her criminally
negligent mother and abusive stepfather to live with older sister, Mo,
and Mo's girlfriend, Kacey.
"...She was saved at sixteen, and since then she'd attended
church services each week and volunteered for the children's ministry,
the homeless ministry, the bereavement committee. Babies, bums,
grief..."
The Mothers follows Nadia, Luke, and Aubrey for that summer and
the subsequent decades during which their lives remain often awkwardly
and sometimes painfully interconnected. It's a journey you'll want to
make.
Oh, yeah, you're probably wondering why this book is called The
Mothers...
...read it and find out.
On a purrrsonal note, this has been a really big week for me.
1) My baby, Adam, is 24 today. Happy Birthday wishes to my wonderful
son! He and his fiancée stopped over for a lovely visit Tuesday
night. That made my month.
2) My semester started Monday. So far it's review. I'm mostly
excited but a little nervous.
3) Tobago had her annual checkup. She is the feline picture of health.
4) The furnace stopped working Monday night. The trailer was
freezing. Luckily a guy came out and fixed it. We don't have to
replace it. Yet.
5) My program had a zoom picture taken of current students for
prospective ones. I zoom saw some friends I really have been missing.
(Jules).
The hoomans will all get vaccinations. Ha ha! And it was great
seeing Adam and Asia. (Tobago)
Great big shout outs go out to Adam and Asia, the furnace repair guy
and all his coworkers doing their very essential work, the Veazie Vet
crew, and all students and professors starting a new semester.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, January 25, 2021
White Tears/Brown Scars
White Tears/Brown Scars
Adult nonfiction
"At the time of writing the column, I was attempting to make
sense of a number of conflicts I'd had that follow this unwritten
script and left me wondering why, whenever I tried to approach a white
female friend or colleague about something she had said or done that
had had a negative impact on me, I somehow always ended up apologizing
to her though I was certain that I was the one who had been wronged.
With diminished confidence and second-guessing my own recollection of
events, I was left floundering, either angry and unheard or terrified
I would lose a friend of a job if I didn't back down."
We tend to see tears as signs of helplessness. Children, for
instance, cry quite often. But tears can also be weaponized by adult
white women as Ruby Hamad, quoted above, points out in her White Tears/
Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women Of Color. It happens
all the time. A brown or black woman approaches a white woman with a
grievance. Rather than listen and discuss, the white woman breaks
down in tears. People rush to her aid. The woman of color is seen as
a bully. And her grievance, even a quite legitimate one, is swept
under the rug.
Hamad devotes the whole book to exploring the phenomenon and its
origins. She goes back in history to the world of colonialism when
stereotypes like Jezebels, Sapphires, and Dragon Ladies were developed
to differentiate women of color from and keep them in bondage to
"pure", "virtuous" white ladies. She looks at how those caricatures
were used to show that only white women could be damsels in distress.
She explores the strong antagonism many of the most influential
sufragettes felt toward blacks getting the vote.
Hamad goes on to show that this weaponization of tears is not
something that just happened in the past. It still imperils women of
color on the job, in relationships, and online. It is even in a lot
of places you wouldn't expect it to be like non governmental
charitable organizations where white directors use this strategy when
recipients of help try to explain what they really need. It's a
regular go to for white feminists who feel that women of color are too
divisive and angry. Women of Arab descent were seen as traitors, for
instance, in the 2016 election if they weren't 100% behind Hillary
Clinton even though her foreign policies were disastrous for Arab
nations.
This in depth, insightful, and scholarly volume is a must read
for all of us who are white women. We need to do a lot better by the
women of color we pay lip service to wanting as sisters in arms.
Every college and public library needs at least one copy.
On a purrrsonal note, Eugene gave me an exciting gift yesterday. New
dish towels. Many of my old ones were threadbare so these pretty
spring toned ones made me very happy.
Today I did some furniture moving. Awhile back the kids, inspired by
my transformation of the girls' old bedroom into my beautiful studio,
had decided to turn Adam's old room into a man cave for their dad. As
the one still living in the house, my job was to clear out everything
including the furniture. I was doing just fine until...
...you guessed it. Pandemic! Today I managed by judicious furniture
shuffling to get another bookcase out. When spring cleanup takes
place I'll dismantle the bed and take the parts to the curb. When
it's safe to do so I'll cash in all the bags of returnables that have
been piling up in there. Then all that will be in there is stuff Adam
will need to go through.
Finally, I got cotton candy in 6 flavors for Christmas. I didn't want
to throw out the cute containers. I'm repurposing them to hold little
things like erasers, glue sticks, and paper clips. I'm anticipating a
good week. I'm especially excited for all the library books Emily
will gather for me! (Jules)
Of course I supervised all that furniture rearranging. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all for whom this is the first day
of spring semester.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"At the time of writing the column, I was attempting to make
sense of a number of conflicts I'd had that follow this unwritten
script and left me wondering why, whenever I tried to approach a white
female friend or colleague about something she had said or done that
had had a negative impact on me, I somehow always ended up apologizing
to her though I was certain that I was the one who had been wronged.
With diminished confidence and second-guessing my own recollection of
events, I was left floundering, either angry and unheard or terrified
I would lose a friend of a job if I didn't back down."
We tend to see tears as signs of helplessness. Children, for
instance, cry quite often. But tears can also be weaponized by adult
white women as Ruby Hamad, quoted above, points out in her White Tears/
Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women Of Color. It happens
all the time. A brown or black woman approaches a white woman with a
grievance. Rather than listen and discuss, the white woman breaks
down in tears. People rush to her aid. The woman of color is seen as
a bully. And her grievance, even a quite legitimate one, is swept
under the rug.
Hamad devotes the whole book to exploring the phenomenon and its
origins. She goes back in history to the world of colonialism when
stereotypes like Jezebels, Sapphires, and Dragon Ladies were developed
to differentiate women of color from and keep them in bondage to
"pure", "virtuous" white ladies. She looks at how those caricatures
were used to show that only white women could be damsels in distress.
She explores the strong antagonism many of the most influential
sufragettes felt toward blacks getting the vote.
Hamad goes on to show that this weaponization of tears is not
something that just happened in the past. It still imperils women of
color on the job, in relationships, and online. It is even in a lot
of places you wouldn't expect it to be like non governmental
charitable organizations where white directors use this strategy when
recipients of help try to explain what they really need. It's a
regular go to for white feminists who feel that women of color are too
divisive and angry. Women of Arab descent were seen as traitors, for
instance, in the 2016 election if they weren't 100% behind Hillary
Clinton even though her foreign policies were disastrous for Arab
nations.
This in depth, insightful, and scholarly volume is a must read
for all of us who are white women. We need to do a lot better by the
women of color we pay lip service to wanting as sisters in arms.
Every college and public library needs at least one copy.
On a purrrsonal note, Eugene gave me an exciting gift yesterday. New
dish towels. Many of my old ones were threadbare so these pretty
spring toned ones made me very happy.
Today I did some furniture moving. Awhile back the kids, inspired by
my transformation of the girls' old bedroom into my beautiful studio,
had decided to turn Adam's old room into a man cave for their dad. As
the one still living in the house, my job was to clear out everything
including the furniture. I was doing just fine until...
...you guessed it. Pandemic! Today I managed by judicious furniture
shuffling to get another bookcase out. When spring cleanup takes
place I'll dismantle the bed and take the parts to the curb. When
it's safe to do so I'll cash in all the bags of returnables that have
been piling up in there. Then all that will be in there is stuff Adam
will need to go through.
Finally, I got cotton candy in 6 flavors for Christmas. I didn't want
to throw out the cute containers. I'm repurposing them to hold little
things like erasers, glue sticks, and paper clips. I'm anticipating a
good week. I'm especially excited for all the library books Emily
will gather for me! (Jules)
Of course I supervised all that furniture rearranging. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all for whom this is the first day
of spring semester.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Friday, January 22, 2021
Free Cyntoia (2019)
Free Cyntoia (2019)
Adult Memoir
"My knees shook as I stood in the courtroom. Any moment now,
the jury would file in. Twelve men and women had spent the last six
hours debating whether I should spend the rest of my life behind bars...
I didn't expect to walk out of that courtroom a free woman.
That doesn't happen when you kill someone--especially when you're a
biracial girl who kills a white man. But I did hope for some sort of
mercy."
We've been sixteen. Some of us have had sixteen-year-old
children. I think we can all agree that most sixteen-year-olds are
still works in progress. Science would back us up on this. It has
been discovered that the part of the brain in charge of cognitive
judgement making is not fully developed until twenty-five.
When Cyntoia Brown was sixteen she shot a man--an adult in his
forties who was driving around at night looking for young girls to use
for sex. If you're saying that she shouldn't have gone with him,
there's more to the story. She was being trafficked by a physically,
sexually, and psychologically abusive pimp. The only way she had to
not get brutally beaten was turning tricks and handing over the
money. Think of what being treated as commodity was doing to her
sense of self, her ability to think beyond moment to moment survival.
Cyntoia was tried in adult court. The jury rendered a guilty
verdict. She was sentenced to life.
What were you getting ready for at sixteen? College? A summer
job? The prom? I'm sure it wasn't spending the rest of your natural
life in prison, being given the message that you were already beyond
hope of redemption.
Cyntoia Brown Long's Free Cyntoia tells the events that led up
to her arrest and conviction. It also tells of how, behind bars, she
managed to earn associates and bachelors degrees and begin working to
help other juveniles behind bars. It tells the story of a young woman
who, even in the harshest of conditions, showed a lot of potential for
not only personal success, but for helping to change society for the
better.
I wonder what role race had to do with the jury's decision.
Research has shown that ordinary people, the kind of whom juries are
composed, adultify girls of color, perceiving them to be much more
sexually mature and culpable than white peers, less in need of
protection and nurturance. What kind of verdict would had been
delivered if Cyntoia had been white and the guy had been biracial?
I hope you will read this excellent book. I hope it will make
you angry. Any system that allows children to be tried as adults and
to be discarded rather than treated is, in my opinion, a system badly
in need of reforming.
On a purrrsonal note, it's been a good week other than the Christmas
tree coming down. But by January 19 it had had a nice long run. I
altered a fruitcake recipe to feature my personal fruits and nuts
blend. It was my first fruitcake and it was delicious! I learned
where the emojis live on my smartphone. Next week spring semester
starts. While I'd actually be over the moon if I could be picking
just the right outfit this weekend for first day of class (I mean
online I attend in my pajamas) and looking forward to seeing my
friends in person, I am slightly more subdued looking forward to the
new term. I sure hope campus and the bus system are safe and I'm
vaccinated by September. That would be the best birthday present I
could get. (Jules)
Good fruitcake! (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all the profs who are getting lesson
plans ready for online, in person, or mixed teaching.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult Memoir
"My knees shook as I stood in the courtroom. Any moment now,
the jury would file in. Twelve men and women had spent the last six
hours debating whether I should spend the rest of my life behind bars...
I didn't expect to walk out of that courtroom a free woman.
That doesn't happen when you kill someone--especially when you're a
biracial girl who kills a white man. But I did hope for some sort of
mercy."
We've been sixteen. Some of us have had sixteen-year-old
children. I think we can all agree that most sixteen-year-olds are
still works in progress. Science would back us up on this. It has
been discovered that the part of the brain in charge of cognitive
judgement making is not fully developed until twenty-five.
When Cyntoia Brown was sixteen she shot a man--an adult in his
forties who was driving around at night looking for young girls to use
for sex. If you're saying that she shouldn't have gone with him,
there's more to the story. She was being trafficked by a physically,
sexually, and psychologically abusive pimp. The only way she had to
not get brutally beaten was turning tricks and handing over the
money. Think of what being treated as commodity was doing to her
sense of self, her ability to think beyond moment to moment survival.
Cyntoia was tried in adult court. The jury rendered a guilty
verdict. She was sentenced to life.
What were you getting ready for at sixteen? College? A summer
job? The prom? I'm sure it wasn't spending the rest of your natural
life in prison, being given the message that you were already beyond
hope of redemption.
Cyntoia Brown Long's Free Cyntoia tells the events that led up
to her arrest and conviction. It also tells of how, behind bars, she
managed to earn associates and bachelors degrees and begin working to
help other juveniles behind bars. It tells the story of a young woman
who, even in the harshest of conditions, showed a lot of potential for
not only personal success, but for helping to change society for the
better.
I wonder what role race had to do with the jury's decision.
Research has shown that ordinary people, the kind of whom juries are
composed, adultify girls of color, perceiving them to be much more
sexually mature and culpable than white peers, less in need of
protection and nurturance. What kind of verdict would had been
delivered if Cyntoia had been white and the guy had been biracial?
I hope you will read this excellent book. I hope it will make
you angry. Any system that allows children to be tried as adults and
to be discarded rather than treated is, in my opinion, a system badly
in need of reforming.
On a purrrsonal note, it's been a good week other than the Christmas
tree coming down. But by January 19 it had had a nice long run. I
altered a fruitcake recipe to feature my personal fruits and nuts
blend. It was my first fruitcake and it was delicious! I learned
where the emojis live on my smartphone. Next week spring semester
starts. While I'd actually be over the moon if I could be picking
just the right outfit this weekend for first day of class (I mean
online I attend in my pajamas) and looking forward to seeing my
friends in person, I am slightly more subdued looking forward to the
new term. I sure hope campus and the bus system are safe and I'm
vaccinated by September. That would be the best birthday present I
could get. (Jules)
Good fruitcake! (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all the profs who are getting lesson
plans ready for online, in person, or mixed teaching.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
The Buy Nothing Get Everything Plan
The Buy Nothing Get Everything Plan
Adult nonfiction
"We embarked on this way of life because we felt so helpless in
the midst of all the marketing coming our way, in every form: in our
homes, through the internet, and out in our towns and cities every
time we walk into a supermarket or store. Advertising promotes a
culture of competition, with winners and losers, at the expense of the
whole..."
Liesl Clark and Rebecca Rockefeller proved themselves to be far
from hopeless. They created a collective of gift based (as opposed to
market based) economies "in which neighbors share with neighbors,
members "ask" for what they want instead of buying it, and members
"give" away their gently used items instead of tossing them." And now,
so that a larger range of people can join in this wonderful revolution
they wrote The Buy Nothing Get Everything Plan: Discover the Joy of
Spending Less, Sharing More, and Living Generously.
Don't get the title wrong. The authors aren't telling us to
totally stop spending money. Unlike my partner, Eugene, who could
function quite fine by hunting, fishing, growing, and foraging, most
of us would starve. They don't want us all to stop paying for stuff
like food, electricity, medicine, and education. They just want us to
spend more mindfully. Rather than just run out and buy something, say
a prom dress, think of the other ways you can obtain it.
Let's say your daughter will want a prom dress in a few months.
My younger daughter did about a decade ago. We walked from store to
store. I saw her sneaking glances at price tags even though her dad
told her not to. She didn't feel okay about spending that much money
on one. Then we saw an announcement of a free prom dress event and
decided to look.
It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my entire life.
A boxy drab building was transformed by what looked like a flock of
butterflies, prom gowns in every style and color. There were also
shoes and other accessories and volunteers to help. Katie found a
stunning black and white number and the perfect go with shoes.
The experience was totally different. If we had bought the
dress at a store we would have paid and gone home. At the event there
was an aura of communal joy. Most of the girls were strangers to one
another. Some probably played on opposing teams. But in that space
and moment they were present to and engaged with each other. "You
should try this one. It would bring out your eyes." "Are these shoes
your size?" "OMG, you look amazing." Some of us moms were nearly in
joy tears. And the people running the show were on Cloud Nine
I shared this example because it epitomizes the book's theme.
The girls didn't run out and spend a lot of money on something they
might wear once. They weren't the only ones feeling the joy. The
donors could get satisfaction from knowing that these lovely garments
would help other girls sparkle, shine, and form precious memories
instead of going into a landfill.
What the authors would like is a world in which this kind of
event morphs into a way of life. People shop a lot less because they
have other ways of meeting many needs and wants. This helps to create
communities where people hoard less because they feel more safe and
cared for. There are far fewer good items ending up in landfills and
oceans.
You may be thinking, as I did, sounds great, but how do I even
get started? That's what the book is all about. It's full of ideas
to pursue individually and collectively divided into seven steps:
Give: We have to get out of the mind set that the rich are givers and
the poor are takers. Everyone has something to give. During my years
as a stay home mom I made my home open as a free place parents who
couldn't afford to pay a babysitter or miss a shift at work could send
kids on snow days, sick days, or early shifts. We called it the
breakfast club.
Ask. We have to get out of the mindset that asking for help betrays
inner weakness. A lot of people want to give or help. If you have a
specific request that they can meet they're happy too. I got a note
from Tobago's vet that she needs her check up and shots. We all know
I can't drive. I emailed my friend Connie who was only too happy to
serve as chauffer. Tobago will stay healthy, I won't court frostbite
standing around in a potentially frigid parking lot, and a friendship
will be stronger. When I wanted to create a fruitcake Emily, who
keeps me supplied with library books, bought me the ingedients I
needed for baking it. I didn't really know her before the pandemic
and now we have a great friendship.
Reuse and refuse. There are lots of suggestions including a list of
fifty things you may never have to buy again.
Reflect. A lot of emotions go into shopping for most of us.
Understanding what motivates us can help us step back and see
alternatives that may end up being more gratifying.
Make and fix. There is another handy list of things we can make
instead of buying which can provide the start of fulfilling hobbies.
A friend makes lovely scented bath soaps for very useful Christmas
gifts. My stash of yarn for knitting and crocheting comes from thrift
shops, yard sales, other people's unfinished projects, and damaged
objects. I made quite a few scarves from yarn scavenged from an
afghan mauled by a Doberman. Some of them made recipients very happy
this past pandemic Christmas.
Share, lend, and borrow. If there are eight houses on a street does
it really make sense for each to have a snow blower?
And expressing gratitude which improves the health of not only those
who express and receive it but even bystanders.
Reading the book left me feeling drunk from all the
possibilities. I'm incorporating what I can into my pandemic
lifestyle. When it's again safe to move around our communities I plan
to create a community centered around my local church. When you read
the book pick what will work for you. Even if it's only a few ideas
life will get happier.
And if you can afford to do so The Buy Nothing Get Everything
Plan would make a great donation to your favorite public library.
On a personal note, great big shout outs go out to:
1) University of Maine's Black Bear Exchange, our on campus food
pantry and clothing exchange. The food goes way beyond the
traditional nonperishables. Thanks to a partnership with Good
Shepherd there are fresh veggies. This week I received two acorn
squashes! And when campus is open for business dining sends trays and
pots of unused food that is repackaged into family sized portions
under state of the art sanitary conditions. Restaurant quality food
all ready to heat and serve, steak tips, teriyaki pork...is very much
a blessing. There are also personal hygiene products. The authors of
the book would very much approve of the clothing exchange and of the
big annual fund raiser: Clean Sweep. Every May we organize all the
stuff students leave in their dorms, donations, and furniture replaced
in dorms by the universities into the yard sale all other yard sales
wish they were. I'm always in charge of the clothing section. People
line up for hours the first day of the sale. There are super
bargains--even on stuff like electronics and small appliances. The
2019 Clean Sweep cleared over $9000. The stuff that doesn't get sold
goes to all sorts of organizations. And there is such camaraderie
among workers it's just plain fun. Of course a great big shout out to
Lisa Morin who makes all who become involved into a family. One of
the things I miss most in this pandemic is being part of Lisa's crew.
2) Orono Community Garden and John and Shelley Jemmison who run it.
We grow organic veggies and deliver them to food insecure older
people. In doing so we bond with fellow gardeners and learn a lot
about gardening. I hope next summer I'll have safe transportation to
get down and dirty there.
3) Maine's vital network of public libraries that are doing an
exceptional job of providing books under very challenging conditions.
The inter library loan trucks are very busy. Every time Emily does a
delivery the books are from all over the state. I'm champing at the
bit to shelf read in Orono Public Library's children's wing.
4) The wonderful organizations that allow us to rehome precious
animals instead of running out to pet stores, especially Waterville
Humane Society where I adopted my dear little Tobago.
5) All other groups large and small that are based on building
community and enriching lives by the giving and sharing of resources.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"We embarked on this way of life because we felt so helpless in
the midst of all the marketing coming our way, in every form: in our
homes, through the internet, and out in our towns and cities every
time we walk into a supermarket or store. Advertising promotes a
culture of competition, with winners and losers, at the expense of the
whole..."
Liesl Clark and Rebecca Rockefeller proved themselves to be far
from hopeless. They created a collective of gift based (as opposed to
market based) economies "in which neighbors share with neighbors,
members "ask" for what they want instead of buying it, and members
"give" away their gently used items instead of tossing them." And now,
so that a larger range of people can join in this wonderful revolution
they wrote The Buy Nothing Get Everything Plan: Discover the Joy of
Spending Less, Sharing More, and Living Generously.
Don't get the title wrong. The authors aren't telling us to
totally stop spending money. Unlike my partner, Eugene, who could
function quite fine by hunting, fishing, growing, and foraging, most
of us would starve. They don't want us all to stop paying for stuff
like food, electricity, medicine, and education. They just want us to
spend more mindfully. Rather than just run out and buy something, say
a prom dress, think of the other ways you can obtain it.
Let's say your daughter will want a prom dress in a few months.
My younger daughter did about a decade ago. We walked from store to
store. I saw her sneaking glances at price tags even though her dad
told her not to. She didn't feel okay about spending that much money
on one. Then we saw an announcement of a free prom dress event and
decided to look.
It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my entire life.
A boxy drab building was transformed by what looked like a flock of
butterflies, prom gowns in every style and color. There were also
shoes and other accessories and volunteers to help. Katie found a
stunning black and white number and the perfect go with shoes.
The experience was totally different. If we had bought the
dress at a store we would have paid and gone home. At the event there
was an aura of communal joy. Most of the girls were strangers to one
another. Some probably played on opposing teams. But in that space
and moment they were present to and engaged with each other. "You
should try this one. It would bring out your eyes." "Are these shoes
your size?" "OMG, you look amazing." Some of us moms were nearly in
joy tears. And the people running the show were on Cloud Nine
I shared this example because it epitomizes the book's theme.
The girls didn't run out and spend a lot of money on something they
might wear once. They weren't the only ones feeling the joy. The
donors could get satisfaction from knowing that these lovely garments
would help other girls sparkle, shine, and form precious memories
instead of going into a landfill.
What the authors would like is a world in which this kind of
event morphs into a way of life. People shop a lot less because they
have other ways of meeting many needs and wants. This helps to create
communities where people hoard less because they feel more safe and
cared for. There are far fewer good items ending up in landfills and
oceans.
You may be thinking, as I did, sounds great, but how do I even
get started? That's what the book is all about. It's full of ideas
to pursue individually and collectively divided into seven steps:
Give: We have to get out of the mind set that the rich are givers and
the poor are takers. Everyone has something to give. During my years
as a stay home mom I made my home open as a free place parents who
couldn't afford to pay a babysitter or miss a shift at work could send
kids on snow days, sick days, or early shifts. We called it the
breakfast club.
Ask. We have to get out of the mindset that asking for help betrays
inner weakness. A lot of people want to give or help. If you have a
specific request that they can meet they're happy too. I got a note
from Tobago's vet that she needs her check up and shots. We all know
I can't drive. I emailed my friend Connie who was only too happy to
serve as chauffer. Tobago will stay healthy, I won't court frostbite
standing around in a potentially frigid parking lot, and a friendship
will be stronger. When I wanted to create a fruitcake Emily, who
keeps me supplied with library books, bought me the ingedients I
needed for baking it. I didn't really know her before the pandemic
and now we have a great friendship.
Reuse and refuse. There are lots of suggestions including a list of
fifty things you may never have to buy again.
Reflect. A lot of emotions go into shopping for most of us.
Understanding what motivates us can help us step back and see
alternatives that may end up being more gratifying.
Make and fix. There is another handy list of things we can make
instead of buying which can provide the start of fulfilling hobbies.
A friend makes lovely scented bath soaps for very useful Christmas
gifts. My stash of yarn for knitting and crocheting comes from thrift
shops, yard sales, other people's unfinished projects, and damaged
objects. I made quite a few scarves from yarn scavenged from an
afghan mauled by a Doberman. Some of them made recipients very happy
this past pandemic Christmas.
Share, lend, and borrow. If there are eight houses on a street does
it really make sense for each to have a snow blower?
And expressing gratitude which improves the health of not only those
who express and receive it but even bystanders.
Reading the book left me feeling drunk from all the
possibilities. I'm incorporating what I can into my pandemic
lifestyle. When it's again safe to move around our communities I plan
to create a community centered around my local church. When you read
the book pick what will work for you. Even if it's only a few ideas
life will get happier.
And if you can afford to do so The Buy Nothing Get Everything
Plan would make a great donation to your favorite public library.
On a personal note, great big shout outs go out to:
1) University of Maine's Black Bear Exchange, our on campus food
pantry and clothing exchange. The food goes way beyond the
traditional nonperishables. Thanks to a partnership with Good
Shepherd there are fresh veggies. This week I received two acorn
squashes! And when campus is open for business dining sends trays and
pots of unused food that is repackaged into family sized portions
under state of the art sanitary conditions. Restaurant quality food
all ready to heat and serve, steak tips, teriyaki pork...is very much
a blessing. There are also personal hygiene products. The authors of
the book would very much approve of the clothing exchange and of the
big annual fund raiser: Clean Sweep. Every May we organize all the
stuff students leave in their dorms, donations, and furniture replaced
in dorms by the universities into the yard sale all other yard sales
wish they were. I'm always in charge of the clothing section. People
line up for hours the first day of the sale. There are super
bargains--even on stuff like electronics and small appliances. The
2019 Clean Sweep cleared over $9000. The stuff that doesn't get sold
goes to all sorts of organizations. And there is such camaraderie
among workers it's just plain fun. Of course a great big shout out to
Lisa Morin who makes all who become involved into a family. One of
the things I miss most in this pandemic is being part of Lisa's crew.
2) Orono Community Garden and John and Shelley Jemmison who run it.
We grow organic veggies and deliver them to food insecure older
people. In doing so we bond with fellow gardeners and learn a lot
about gardening. I hope next summer I'll have safe transportation to
get down and dirty there.
3) Maine's vital network of public libraries that are doing an
exceptional job of providing books under very challenging conditions.
The inter library loan trucks are very busy. Every time Emily does a
delivery the books are from all over the state. I'm champing at the
bit to shelf read in Orono Public Library's children's wing.
4) The wonderful organizations that allow us to rehome precious
animals instead of running out to pet stores, especially Waterville
Humane Society where I adopted my dear little Tobago.
5) All other groups large and small that are based on building
community and enriching lives by the giving and sharing of resources.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, January 18, 2021
After Life (2019)
After Life (2019)
Adult memoir
"Because of the mandatory sentencing laws, Judge Gibbons had no
leeway in sentencing. The crimes of which I'd been convicted carried
life in prison...Furthermore, there would not even be a chance for me
to redeem myself at a parole hearing, because the federal system has
no parole. I had just received an unexecuted sentence of death."
Imagine for a moment that you're in the position of Alice Marie
Johnson, author of After Life. No matter how long you live the only
way you'll get out of prison is after death. Your grieving family in
the courtroom won't see you alive except through prison visitation,
which won't even be a possibility if you get incarcerated far enough
away to make travel prohibatively expensive. You'll miss out on all
the family milestones: weddings, graduations, births, and deaths.
Basically the "justice" system has given up on you. You're in
that
limbo between death and determinate term sentences. They're not
going to either pull the plug or release you--just warehouse you.
Even if you totally turn your life around it won't make a difference.
Recall back in December we looked at Brittany K. Barnett's A
Knock At Midnight? It was a real eye opener for me. I'd never before
realized how many people serving life without possibility of parole
sentences have been locked up forever due to draconian drug laws and
prosecutors willing to twist the truth to get convictions, how many of
them pose absolutely no threat to the rest of us and could be
contributing members of society given support rather than
condemnation. I'd also never tried to imagine what life without
possibility of parole would feel like.
Maybe I was a little more reflective because of this whole
pandemic thing. Maybe being unable to spend in person time on
Christmas with my kids and their significant others made me more open
to pondering on a total end to family Christmases. But that pondering
made me want to learn more about these travesties of justice. So when
Barnett alluded to Alice Marie Johnson's After Life: My Journey from
Incarceration to Freedom, I put it on my must read list.
Alice was born into a very loving, very determined family. Her
parents were able, through heroic efforts, to escape sharecropping to
give their children a better life. Her mother was able to parley food
service jobs into ownership of her own restaurant.
When she was fourteen Alice lost her virginity. At fifteen she
realized she was pregnant. Her parents were devastated. Their
solution [and remember this was fifty years ago] was the marriage of a
teen to a boy only a couple of years older who still felt entitled to
sleep around. It was a marriage that was on again, off again, a
marriage that brought five children into the world.
Even though her first baby was quickly followed by a second
Alice was able to graduate not only from high school, but from a
secretarial course. She had even been awarded a scholarship. Her
husband said, "Don't even think about it."
Alice did the best she could to make a good life for her
family. Even when she had five small children, was living apart from
her husband because of his infidelity, and had lost her job because of
a company shut down, she hated being on welfare and was persistant in
finding a job that she felt would enable her to be a good role model
to her children.
Finances were sometimes tough. Her then ex husband saw no need
to provide child support. At one point, fearful of losing the home
she was raising her children in, she was given the chance to earn much
needed money.
"My involvement was a form of protection. Since I wasn't
selling drugs on the street, no one knew me. The dealers knew only of
a voice on the other end of a phone line. I'd give them a number to
call, and then someone else would call them..."
Eventually Alice was caught up in a drug sweep. Questionable at
best moves by the prosecution and the dubious testimonies of dealers
offered sentence reductions for snitching magnified her neglibible
role into one so major the sentencing judge had no option other than a
life sentence.
But behind bars Alice did not give up on herself the way society
had given up on her. She became someone who worked tirelessly to make
life behind bars for her fellow inmates. After Life documents her
amazing journey.
I want you to read this book and then ask yourself two questions
as I did.
1) What would you have missed out on if you'd been locked up for
the past couple of decades? For me this would have included most of
my children's lives, decades of a beautiful marriage, serving my
community as a school board member, some amazing friendships, and
getting into the graduate school program of my dreams.
2) Can you truthfully say, especially if, like me, you are
white, that you have NEVER, done anything that under other
circumstances could have gotten you into the criminal justice system?
I can't. I started drinking way before my legal birthday. Many of the
people I know tried drugs. A lot of times it's random stuff like skin
color or family income (or lack of) that puts some people in the
system and protects others from it.
Is this what justice for all means? I don't think so.
On a purrrsonal note, yesterday was Eugene's birthday. I think he had
a good one. I made him what I call a restaurant breakfast: eggs,
bacon, and biscuits. We went for a drive and got strawberry
milkshakes. For supper I made us ribs, purple mashed potatoes, and
beautiful multicolor carrots topped off with molasses cake which he
much prefers to a traditional birthday cake. I gave him his 2021
combo hunting/fishing license. The kids chipped in to give him a
weights set. We were in the process of converting Adam's old room
into a man cave for him like I've turned the girls' old room into my
studio. Then that pandemic put that on hold. But once it's safe to
move around the state...
One more week til classes start. So my main focus will be reviewing
last semester's statistics to get ready for this semester's. (Jules)
My hooman daddy's birthday. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to our one and only Eugene.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult memoir
"Because of the mandatory sentencing laws, Judge Gibbons had no
leeway in sentencing. The crimes of which I'd been convicted carried
life in prison...Furthermore, there would not even be a chance for me
to redeem myself at a parole hearing, because the federal system has
no parole. I had just received an unexecuted sentence of death."
Imagine for a moment that you're in the position of Alice Marie
Johnson, author of After Life. No matter how long you live the only
way you'll get out of prison is after death. Your grieving family in
the courtroom won't see you alive except through prison visitation,
which won't even be a possibility if you get incarcerated far enough
away to make travel prohibatively expensive. You'll miss out on all
the family milestones: weddings, graduations, births, and deaths.
Basically the "justice" system has given up on you. You're in
that
limbo between death and determinate term sentences. They're not
going to either pull the plug or release you--just warehouse you.
Even if you totally turn your life around it won't make a difference.
Recall back in December we looked at Brittany K. Barnett's A
Knock At Midnight? It was a real eye opener for me. I'd never before
realized how many people serving life without possibility of parole
sentences have been locked up forever due to draconian drug laws and
prosecutors willing to twist the truth to get convictions, how many of
them pose absolutely no threat to the rest of us and could be
contributing members of society given support rather than
condemnation. I'd also never tried to imagine what life without
possibility of parole would feel like.
Maybe I was a little more reflective because of this whole
pandemic thing. Maybe being unable to spend in person time on
Christmas with my kids and their significant others made me more open
to pondering on a total end to family Christmases. But that pondering
made me want to learn more about these travesties of justice. So when
Barnett alluded to Alice Marie Johnson's After Life: My Journey from
Incarceration to Freedom, I put it on my must read list.
Alice was born into a very loving, very determined family. Her
parents were able, through heroic efforts, to escape sharecropping to
give their children a better life. Her mother was able to parley food
service jobs into ownership of her own restaurant.
When she was fourteen Alice lost her virginity. At fifteen she
realized she was pregnant. Her parents were devastated. Their
solution [and remember this was fifty years ago] was the marriage of a
teen to a boy only a couple of years older who still felt entitled to
sleep around. It was a marriage that was on again, off again, a
marriage that brought five children into the world.
Even though her first baby was quickly followed by a second
Alice was able to graduate not only from high school, but from a
secretarial course. She had even been awarded a scholarship. Her
husband said, "Don't even think about it."
Alice did the best she could to make a good life for her
family. Even when she had five small children, was living apart from
her husband because of his infidelity, and had lost her job because of
a company shut down, she hated being on welfare and was persistant in
finding a job that she felt would enable her to be a good role model
to her children.
Finances were sometimes tough. Her then ex husband saw no need
to provide child support. At one point, fearful of losing the home
she was raising her children in, she was given the chance to earn much
needed money.
"My involvement was a form of protection. Since I wasn't
selling drugs on the street, no one knew me. The dealers knew only of
a voice on the other end of a phone line. I'd give them a number to
call, and then someone else would call them..."
Eventually Alice was caught up in a drug sweep. Questionable at
best moves by the prosecution and the dubious testimonies of dealers
offered sentence reductions for snitching magnified her neglibible
role into one so major the sentencing judge had no option other than a
life sentence.
But behind bars Alice did not give up on herself the way society
had given up on her. She became someone who worked tirelessly to make
life behind bars for her fellow inmates. After Life documents her
amazing journey.
I want you to read this book and then ask yourself two questions
as I did.
1) What would you have missed out on if you'd been locked up for
the past couple of decades? For me this would have included most of
my children's lives, decades of a beautiful marriage, serving my
community as a school board member, some amazing friendships, and
getting into the graduate school program of my dreams.
2) Can you truthfully say, especially if, like me, you are
white, that you have NEVER, done anything that under other
circumstances could have gotten you into the criminal justice system?
I can't. I started drinking way before my legal birthday. Many of the
people I know tried drugs. A lot of times it's random stuff like skin
color or family income (or lack of) that puts some people in the
system and protects others from it.
Is this what justice for all means? I don't think so.
On a purrrsonal note, yesterday was Eugene's birthday. I think he had
a good one. I made him what I call a restaurant breakfast: eggs,
bacon, and biscuits. We went for a drive and got strawberry
milkshakes. For supper I made us ribs, purple mashed potatoes, and
beautiful multicolor carrots topped off with molasses cake which he
much prefers to a traditional birthday cake. I gave him his 2021
combo hunting/fishing license. The kids chipped in to give him a
weights set. We were in the process of converting Adam's old room
into a man cave for him like I've turned the girls' old room into my
studio. Then that pandemic put that on hold. But once it's safe to
move around the state...
One more week til classes start. So my main focus will be reviewing
last semester's statistics to get ready for this semester's. (Jules)
My hooman daddy's birthday. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to our one and only Eugene.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Saturday, January 16, 2021
Dear Justyce (2020)
Dear Justyce (2020)
YA fiction
Author Nic Stone did something rare and beautiful. She wrote a
reader requested sequel to one of her popular books. Justyce, the
protagonist of Dear Martin, had made his way out of the ghetto to
Yale. Stone thought she was done with him. Then she got text mails
from two boys who talked about not being able to go to a good college
or even have the assurance of living past 18, boys with friends and
family members doing time. They wanted her to write about kids more
like them, to be their voice.
So she did.
Quan, narrator of Dear Justyce, and Justyce meet in a rocket
ship that is part of a playground when they're really young. Quan is
fleeing his violent stepfather. Justyce's ex military father has
"episodes" when he drinks too much."
The boys grow up in basically the same neighborhood. But their
trajectories diverge widely. Where Justyce becomes a pre law student
at Yale, Quan ends up at a youth detention center. Justyce doesn't
give up on his chum. As they keep in touch by mail, he tries to help
him in any way he can.
Stone skilfully blends a series or snapshots, longer narratives,
and letters to illuminate the story of a boy who saw his father
arrested in the middle of the night and violently torn from his life,
worked really hard in school only to be accused of cheating, had to
steal to keep his little sister and brother from going hungry, and
confessed to a crime he didn't commit out of loyalty to his street
family.
As his trial for a murder he didn't commit gets closer, the
state offers Quan a plea bargain. At this point he's been waiting for
well over a year for a trial date. If he pleads guilty to voluntary
maslaughter he may get out of prison before he turns thirty.
His court appointed lawyer, new to his case, is "blown away" by
the offer.
But Justyce thinks he can help him get a better deal, maybe even
walk free.
Dear Justyce is a riveting coming of age narrative with a lot of
inconvenient truths. For this reason I consider it a must read for
not only its target demographic, but well beyond.
On a purrrsonal note, the tree is still up but not for long. I'm
making my yearly transition from reading, resting, and relaxing to
active (as active as possible under the circumstances) and ambitious.
This year this involves a certain amount of impatience to get the
vaccine and get back on campus where I can be more productive. Today
I heard of a new COVID strain that doesn't respond to the current
vaccine and was all, OMG, noooooo! Without my counselor and my cat
I'd be a lot more impatient and frustrated. (Jules)
I earn my Nine Lives and Little Friskies. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Libbey and all the other counselors
who are helping so many people cope.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA fiction
Author Nic Stone did something rare and beautiful. She wrote a
reader requested sequel to one of her popular books. Justyce, the
protagonist of Dear Martin, had made his way out of the ghetto to
Yale. Stone thought she was done with him. Then she got text mails
from two boys who talked about not being able to go to a good college
or even have the assurance of living past 18, boys with friends and
family members doing time. They wanted her to write about kids more
like them, to be their voice.
So she did.
Quan, narrator of Dear Justyce, and Justyce meet in a rocket
ship that is part of a playground when they're really young. Quan is
fleeing his violent stepfather. Justyce's ex military father has
"episodes" when he drinks too much."
The boys grow up in basically the same neighborhood. But their
trajectories diverge widely. Where Justyce becomes a pre law student
at Yale, Quan ends up at a youth detention center. Justyce doesn't
give up on his chum. As they keep in touch by mail, he tries to help
him in any way he can.
Stone skilfully blends a series or snapshots, longer narratives,
and letters to illuminate the story of a boy who saw his father
arrested in the middle of the night and violently torn from his life,
worked really hard in school only to be accused of cheating, had to
steal to keep his little sister and brother from going hungry, and
confessed to a crime he didn't commit out of loyalty to his street
family.
As his trial for a murder he didn't commit gets closer, the
state offers Quan a plea bargain. At this point he's been waiting for
well over a year for a trial date. If he pleads guilty to voluntary
maslaughter he may get out of prison before he turns thirty.
His court appointed lawyer, new to his case, is "blown away" by
the offer.
But Justyce thinks he can help him get a better deal, maybe even
walk free.
Dear Justyce is a riveting coming of age narrative with a lot of
inconvenient truths. For this reason I consider it a must read for
not only its target demographic, but well beyond.
On a purrrsonal note, the tree is still up but not for long. I'm
making my yearly transition from reading, resting, and relaxing to
active (as active as possible under the circumstances) and ambitious.
This year this involves a certain amount of impatience to get the
vaccine and get back on campus where I can be more productive. Today
I heard of a new COVID strain that doesn't respond to the current
vaccine and was all, OMG, noooooo! Without my counselor and my cat
I'd be a lot more impatient and frustrated. (Jules)
I earn my Nine Lives and Little Friskies. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Libbey and all the other counselors
who are helping so many people cope.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Tyler Johnson Was Here (2018)
Tyler Johnson Was Here (2018)
YA/adult fiction
Marvin, narrator of Jay Coles' Tyler Johnson Was Here, and Tyler
are teen twins. For much of their lives they've been close even as
their talents and interests have gone in different directions.
Marvin becomes alarmed when he sees Tyler hanging around with a
known drug dealer and his crew. One day he sees him doing what looks
like a drug deal. Tyler has his reasons.
"...Look, Marvin, it's not easy with Dad not around [He's
serving a long prison sentence for a crime he didn't commit], and Mama
can't support us on her own. You see her struggling. Can't pay the
bills, let alone send you to college. Johntae's going to help with
that. So that's all this is."
Going against his better instincts, Marvin and best friends, Ivy
and G-mo, go to one of Johntae's big parties as Tyler's guests.
Suddenly there's gunfire. The crowd stampedes to get out. Marvin is
able to locate Ivy and G-mo, but Tyler doesn't get home that night...
...or the next or the next...
...Marvin frantically searches for his twin as the police do
very little to help the family. Then a video goes online--a video
that shows an unarmed Tyler shot in cold blood by a white police
officer.
What can Marvin do to show the world that Tyler was not a thug,
but a basically decent kid who meant the world to those around him?
Coles pulls no punches. He takes readers into a world where
police are all over, roughing up black kids with impunity, and viewing
the world through white supremacist colored lenses. Even a snack run
can end up tragically. Besides the one caught on video, there are two
other police brutality episodes. In one the twins see a White cop
beating an already subdued Black boy.
"The cop keeps bashing the poor kid into the sidewalk, smashing
his face onto the surface, screaming hate into the back of his head,
screaming that he forgot his place in the world, screaming that his
wide nose had it coming..."
I think none of us would want ourselves or our loved ones to be
slandered after death to help law enforcement literally get away with
murder. At the arraignment of the officer who murdered Tyler, Marvin
thinks."
"But to them, all they see is his hoodie and baggy pants. All
that cop saw was a thug looking for trouble."
Marvin's struggle to save first his brother and then how the
world remembers him makes this poignant coming of age narrative a must
read for its target demographic and well beyond.
On a purrrsonal note, the high note of this past week was the arrival
of my big Christmas gift from my kids: my upcoming semester's
textbook. The fruitcake ingredients I got from my friend, Emily, were
also exciting. I am so psyched to bake my first fruitcake, probably
Monday. The low point was having a rather smug tech guy talk me
through solving a problem with my laptop. I have made an additional
resolution to learn as much computer as possible, not only to advance
education and career wise, but to minimize contact to those techies
who think they're God's gift to the world.
Right now we're into that meteorological crappiness known as mixed
precipitation: a rain, snow mix with the worst features of both.
Eugene's birthday is tomorrow. I plan to make him a nice breakfast.
For supper we'll have ribs, mashed potatoes, and real (not canned)
carrots topped off with homemade molasses cake. I know he'll like and
make good use of the gift I have for him: his 2021 combo hunting-
fishing license. (Jules)
That yucky stuff coming down again!!! (Tobago)
Great big shout outs go out to my kids, Emily, Eugene, and my super
chum Mazie who just celebrated her birthday yesterday!
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA/adult fiction
Marvin, narrator of Jay Coles' Tyler Johnson Was Here, and Tyler
are teen twins. For much of their lives they've been close even as
their talents and interests have gone in different directions.
Marvin becomes alarmed when he sees Tyler hanging around with a
known drug dealer and his crew. One day he sees him doing what looks
like a drug deal. Tyler has his reasons.
"...Look, Marvin, it's not easy with Dad not around [He's
serving a long prison sentence for a crime he didn't commit], and Mama
can't support us on her own. You see her struggling. Can't pay the
bills, let alone send you to college. Johntae's going to help with
that. So that's all this is."
Going against his better instincts, Marvin and best friends, Ivy
and G-mo, go to one of Johntae's big parties as Tyler's guests.
Suddenly there's gunfire. The crowd stampedes to get out. Marvin is
able to locate Ivy and G-mo, but Tyler doesn't get home that night...
...or the next or the next...
...Marvin frantically searches for his twin as the police do
very little to help the family. Then a video goes online--a video
that shows an unarmed Tyler shot in cold blood by a white police
officer.
What can Marvin do to show the world that Tyler was not a thug,
but a basically decent kid who meant the world to those around him?
Coles pulls no punches. He takes readers into a world where
police are all over, roughing up black kids with impunity, and viewing
the world through white supremacist colored lenses. Even a snack run
can end up tragically. Besides the one caught on video, there are two
other police brutality episodes. In one the twins see a White cop
beating an already subdued Black boy.
"The cop keeps bashing the poor kid into the sidewalk, smashing
his face onto the surface, screaming hate into the back of his head,
screaming that he forgot his place in the world, screaming that his
wide nose had it coming..."
I think none of us would want ourselves or our loved ones to be
slandered after death to help law enforcement literally get away with
murder. At the arraignment of the officer who murdered Tyler, Marvin
thinks."
"But to them, all they see is his hoodie and baggy pants. All
that cop saw was a thug looking for trouble."
Marvin's struggle to save first his brother and then how the
world remembers him makes this poignant coming of age narrative a must
read for its target demographic and well beyond.
On a purrrsonal note, the high note of this past week was the arrival
of my big Christmas gift from my kids: my upcoming semester's
textbook. The fruitcake ingredients I got from my friend, Emily, were
also exciting. I am so psyched to bake my first fruitcake, probably
Monday. The low point was having a rather smug tech guy talk me
through solving a problem with my laptop. I have made an additional
resolution to learn as much computer as possible, not only to advance
education and career wise, but to minimize contact to those techies
who think they're God's gift to the world.
Right now we're into that meteorological crappiness known as mixed
precipitation: a rain, snow mix with the worst features of both.
Eugene's birthday is tomorrow. I plan to make him a nice breakfast.
For supper we'll have ribs, mashed potatoes, and real (not canned)
carrots topped off with homemade molasses cake. I know he'll like and
make good use of the gift I have for him: his 2021 combo hunting-
fishing license. (Jules)
That yucky stuff coming down again!!! (Tobago)
Great big shout outs go out to my kids, Emily, Eugene, and my super
chum Mazie who just celebrated her birthday yesterday!
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, January 11, 2021
Before the Ever After (2020)
Before the Ever After (2020)
Juvenile based fiction
"Maybe it was after his Super Bowl win, his ring
new and shining on his finger. Me just a little kid,
so the ring was this whole glittering world,
gold and black and diamonds against
my daddy's brown hand."
ZJ, protagonist of Jacqueline Woodson's Before the After, knows
that the original Zachariah (whom he was named after), a pro football
player, is a hero to many people. But to him jersey number 44 is just
Dad: the dad who is a surogate father to one of his best friends, who
encourages his musical talent and sometimes jams with him, and who
races him every year.
But then big Zachariah starts to change. He begins losing his
temper which he never had in the past. He becomes increasingly
forgetful. He suffers from splitting headaches. Doctor after doctor
is unable to heal him.
As his father has terrible days and good days ZJ struggles to
adjust to a reality that devastates adults. Through his narrative,
which cycles between remembered past and bittersweet present, he
shares his coming of age story most eloquently. Before the Ever After
is a must read not only for its target audience but folks way beyond.
In her author's note, Woodson discusses the condition the
fictitious big Zachariah and too many real life football players
suffer from.
"...Chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) is a degenerative
brain disease found in athletes and others who have suffered repeated
blows to the head. At first, many doctors did not want to believe
there was a connection between brain damage and America's most popular
sport, but Dr. Omalu persisted, and in 2016 the link was finally
acknowledged..."
Dr. Bennett Omalu discovered that link back in 2002. I
researched him and discovered that he's a campaigner against violent
contact sports. According to Omalu, even athletes, including kids,
who don't get full blown CTE can get significant brain damage. Blows
to the head are more serious than we'd like to believe and safety
equipment can not do enough.
So why did it take so long for the medical community to take his
discovery seriously? Could it have anything to do with:
A) Dr. Omalu being Black and born in Nigeria;
B) A lot of people making big bucks on pro football;
C) Both of the above?
Just wondering.
Serious kudos to Woodson for breaking down a complex condition
so kid readers can comprehend and empathize without sugar coating it.
Woodson never writes down to kids. I so appreciate the way she treats
younger readers with respect and dignity.
On a personal note, I am having some blissful days. Our tree is still
up and decorated. I'm spending a lot of time near it. I've been
reading awesome library books, five so powerful I had to bump them to
the front of my list, starting with this one. I'm in the zone as far
as writing with poetry and reviews flowing and the two prose books I
plan to write structured. But I'm not just living in my head. I had
a great weekend with my partner and cat. Eugene and I watched a movie
and ate home made pizza together. I had great phone conversations
with all my children. Adam has my this semester's textbook and is
going to mail it off today. Of course Tobago is being her sweet
self. I'm fully aware that even in a pandemic I have a lot to be
thankful for. (Jules)
Out tree is still up. Oh, happiness. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to our wonderful family.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Juvenile based fiction
"Maybe it was after his Super Bowl win, his ring
new and shining on his finger. Me just a little kid,
so the ring was this whole glittering world,
gold and black and diamonds against
my daddy's brown hand."
ZJ, protagonist of Jacqueline Woodson's Before the After, knows
that the original Zachariah (whom he was named after), a pro football
player, is a hero to many people. But to him jersey number 44 is just
Dad: the dad who is a surogate father to one of his best friends, who
encourages his musical talent and sometimes jams with him, and who
races him every year.
But then big Zachariah starts to change. He begins losing his
temper which he never had in the past. He becomes increasingly
forgetful. He suffers from splitting headaches. Doctor after doctor
is unable to heal him.
As his father has terrible days and good days ZJ struggles to
adjust to a reality that devastates adults. Through his narrative,
which cycles between remembered past and bittersweet present, he
shares his coming of age story most eloquently. Before the Ever After
is a must read not only for its target audience but folks way beyond.
In her author's note, Woodson discusses the condition the
fictitious big Zachariah and too many real life football players
suffer from.
"...Chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) is a degenerative
brain disease found in athletes and others who have suffered repeated
blows to the head. At first, many doctors did not want to believe
there was a connection between brain damage and America's most popular
sport, but Dr. Omalu persisted, and in 2016 the link was finally
acknowledged..."
Dr. Bennett Omalu discovered that link back in 2002. I
researched him and discovered that he's a campaigner against violent
contact sports. According to Omalu, even athletes, including kids,
who don't get full blown CTE can get significant brain damage. Blows
to the head are more serious than we'd like to believe and safety
equipment can not do enough.
So why did it take so long for the medical community to take his
discovery seriously? Could it have anything to do with:
A) Dr. Omalu being Black and born in Nigeria;
B) A lot of people making big bucks on pro football;
C) Both of the above?
Just wondering.
Serious kudos to Woodson for breaking down a complex condition
so kid readers can comprehend and empathize without sugar coating it.
Woodson never writes down to kids. I so appreciate the way she treats
younger readers with respect and dignity.
On a personal note, I am having some blissful days. Our tree is still
up and decorated. I'm spending a lot of time near it. I've been
reading awesome library books, five so powerful I had to bump them to
the front of my list, starting with this one. I'm in the zone as far
as writing with poetry and reviews flowing and the two prose books I
plan to write structured. But I'm not just living in my head. I had
a great weekend with my partner and cat. Eugene and I watched a movie
and ate home made pizza together. I had great phone conversations
with all my children. Adam has my this semester's textbook and is
going to mail it off today. Of course Tobago is being her sweet
self. I'm fully aware that even in a pandemic I have a lot to be
thankful for. (Jules)
Out tree is still up. Oh, happiness. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to our wonderful family.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Tuesday, January 5, 2021
Harrow Lake
Harrow Lake
YA/adult thriller
"Nolan's muffled words kick my brain into action. I grab the
phone and crouch next to him as I dial 911. I somehow sound calm as I
give the operator as much information as I can, trying to drown out
the other voice inside my head, the hissing static that he's going to
die, going to leave me all alone, going to disappear..."
Nolan Nox is famous for making horror movies. His most iconic
one was shot in the small town of Harrow Lake, a town that attracted
him by its pure 1920's decor and its eerie beliefs and superstitions.
After its release the movie became the town's identity. Every year
there is a week long festival for all the Night Jar affecianado
tourists to enjoy.
One day Lola, narrator of Kate Ellis' Harrow Lake, comes home to
find her father, Nolan, on the floor of his study, bleeding and in
great pain. He survives his attack. But it will take him time to
recover. He sends Lola to Harrow Lake, to the home of her only-known-
to-be-alive relative, her maternal grandmother, Moira. (Lola's mom,
Lorelei, had met Nolan when she starred as Little Bird in Night Jar.
At some point when Lola was little she had disappeared.
Lola arrives just in time for the festival. When her suitcase
goes missing she has to wear Lorelei's movie costumes. Going downtown
feels like stepping into the movie set.
It's a pretty creepy place. People disappear regularly,
especially the girls who play the part of Little Bird in the annual
parade. The police search perfunctorily and say they run away...
...but do they? Or does something sinister abduct them...
...like a cannibalastic ghoul named Mr. Jitters?...
"He got trapped underground for a really long while,
Then he fed on the dead and got a brand-new smile."
Will Lola get out of the place alive?
Read the book and see.
Horrow fans, especially those enamoured of Stephen King's The
Shining, would do well to take a little trip to Harrow Lake.
On a purrrsonal note, I am happy to report that sledding is as much
fun as ever. A great way to get winter exercise while socially
distancing.
I had a wonderful surprise yesterday morning. I woke up to find the
most amazing cat pajamas on top of my coat. I guess Eugene bought
more than groceries Sunday. I tried a new recipe this morning. Sugar
cookies with crushed up peppermint candy canes. Easy to make and
delish (Jules)
I heard this on National Public Radio. Many people are relying on
their four legged companions to help them survive and even thrive in
this pandemic. Don't panic if you don't have a cat or dog (or ferret,
rabbit, hamster...) chum. There are so many wonderful critters at
shelters just waiting to become your BFF. Maybe find out what true
love is all about in time for Valentines Day? (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to our beloved Eugene.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA/adult thriller
"Nolan's muffled words kick my brain into action. I grab the
phone and crouch next to him as I dial 911. I somehow sound calm as I
give the operator as much information as I can, trying to drown out
the other voice inside my head, the hissing static that he's going to
die, going to leave me all alone, going to disappear..."
Nolan Nox is famous for making horror movies. His most iconic
one was shot in the small town of Harrow Lake, a town that attracted
him by its pure 1920's decor and its eerie beliefs and superstitions.
After its release the movie became the town's identity. Every year
there is a week long festival for all the Night Jar affecianado
tourists to enjoy.
One day Lola, narrator of Kate Ellis' Harrow Lake, comes home to
find her father, Nolan, on the floor of his study, bleeding and in
great pain. He survives his attack. But it will take him time to
recover. He sends Lola to Harrow Lake, to the home of her only-known-
to-be-alive relative, her maternal grandmother, Moira. (Lola's mom,
Lorelei, had met Nolan when she starred as Little Bird in Night Jar.
At some point when Lola was little she had disappeared.
Lola arrives just in time for the festival. When her suitcase
goes missing she has to wear Lorelei's movie costumes. Going downtown
feels like stepping into the movie set.
It's a pretty creepy place. People disappear regularly,
especially the girls who play the part of Little Bird in the annual
parade. The police search perfunctorily and say they run away...
...but do they? Or does something sinister abduct them...
...like a cannibalastic ghoul named Mr. Jitters?...
"He got trapped underground for a really long while,
Then he fed on the dead and got a brand-new smile."
Will Lola get out of the place alive?
Read the book and see.
Horrow fans, especially those enamoured of Stephen King's The
Shining, would do well to take a little trip to Harrow Lake.
On a purrrsonal note, I am happy to report that sledding is as much
fun as ever. A great way to get winter exercise while socially
distancing.
I had a wonderful surprise yesterday morning. I woke up to find the
most amazing cat pajamas on top of my coat. I guess Eugene bought
more than groceries Sunday. I tried a new recipe this morning. Sugar
cookies with crushed up peppermint candy canes. Easy to make and
delish (Jules)
I heard this on National Public Radio. Many people are relying on
their four legged companions to help them survive and even thrive in
this pandemic. Don't panic if you don't have a cat or dog (or ferret,
rabbit, hamster...) chum. There are so many wonderful critters at
shelters just waiting to become your BFF. Maybe find out what true
love is all about in time for Valentines Day? (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to our beloved Eugene.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Saturday, January 2, 2021
Anna Dressed In Blood
Anna Dressed In Blood
YA/adult thriller
"I can feel her there, mingled into the mud of a hundred other
ghosts, some shuffling and harmless, others full of rage. I can't
imagine what it is to be dead; it's a strange idea to me, having known
so many ghosts. It's still a mystery..."
As you may have guessed from the above quote from Kendare
Blake's Anna Dressed In Blood, protagonist Cas has a rather strange
vocation, one passed on through generations of his family. He slays
those ghosts who, filled with rage at their own demises, exact revenge
on the living. He took over the profession when his father was killed
(and partially eaten) by a truly malovelant entity. After each case
is closed he moves on to the next one with his white witch mother and
the family cat, Tybalt.
This time the family has crossed over into Canada to track down
a teenage murder victim locally dubbed Anna Dressed In Red. During
the decades following her death she's been tearing apart all who have
the misfortune of seeking shelter in her abandoned abode. Cas thinks
it will be a pretty routine operation.
"Move, hunt, kill. Like lather, rinse, and repeat. My life
stretched out in a simple routine..."
But Anna isn't like any other ghost Cas has ever encountered.
The ghoulish killer seems to be sharing a zombie-like body with a
sweet girl who was brutally slain on her way to her first high school
dance. Cas becomes fascinated with her, maybe a little in love for
the first time.
Cas, in fact, is changing. He's always been more afraid of the
living living than of the living dead. His high school classmates
have been pretty much objects to avoid. Now, for the first time, he
has to incorporate several of them into his plan. It turns out to be
a lot easier than he'd expected.
Anna Dressed In Blood is darker than most of the mysteries I
review. But if you want to sample a spectral horror/romance hybrid,
Anna Dressed In Blood is an excellent choice.
On a purrrsonal note, my New Years Eve didn't go exactly according to
plan. I was having fun reading and eating candy. But I felt sleepy
about 10:00. I thought I'd take a short nap. I woke up the next
morning, super charged and full of ambition and energy fitting to a
new year. I've started watching the videos of my fall semester
statistics classes. I'm getting back to work on my two non poetry
manuscripts. This year I am gonna get stuff done, especially in but
not limited to academics. Last night the meteorologists were
gleefully predicting a BIG STORM. Right now it feels like my house is
in a snow globe. Eugene is plowing. If enough of the white snow
sticks there should be decent sledding at the old school hill which,
luckily, is in easy walking distance. (Jules).
That white stuff is here again. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene and all the others who are
blizzard battling.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA/adult thriller
"I can feel her there, mingled into the mud of a hundred other
ghosts, some shuffling and harmless, others full of rage. I can't
imagine what it is to be dead; it's a strange idea to me, having known
so many ghosts. It's still a mystery..."
As you may have guessed from the above quote from Kendare
Blake's Anna Dressed In Blood, protagonist Cas has a rather strange
vocation, one passed on through generations of his family. He slays
those ghosts who, filled with rage at their own demises, exact revenge
on the living. He took over the profession when his father was killed
(and partially eaten) by a truly malovelant entity. After each case
is closed he moves on to the next one with his white witch mother and
the family cat, Tybalt.
This time the family has crossed over into Canada to track down
a teenage murder victim locally dubbed Anna Dressed In Red. During
the decades following her death she's been tearing apart all who have
the misfortune of seeking shelter in her abandoned abode. Cas thinks
it will be a pretty routine operation.
"Move, hunt, kill. Like lather, rinse, and repeat. My life
stretched out in a simple routine..."
But Anna isn't like any other ghost Cas has ever encountered.
The ghoulish killer seems to be sharing a zombie-like body with a
sweet girl who was brutally slain on her way to her first high school
dance. Cas becomes fascinated with her, maybe a little in love for
the first time.
Cas, in fact, is changing. He's always been more afraid of the
living living than of the living dead. His high school classmates
have been pretty much objects to avoid. Now, for the first time, he
has to incorporate several of them into his plan. It turns out to be
a lot easier than he'd expected.
Anna Dressed In Blood is darker than most of the mysteries I
review. But if you want to sample a spectral horror/romance hybrid,
Anna Dressed In Blood is an excellent choice.
On a purrrsonal note, my New Years Eve didn't go exactly according to
plan. I was having fun reading and eating candy. But I felt sleepy
about 10:00. I thought I'd take a short nap. I woke up the next
morning, super charged and full of ambition and energy fitting to a
new year. I've started watching the videos of my fall semester
statistics classes. I'm getting back to work on my two non poetry
manuscripts. This year I am gonna get stuff done, especially in but
not limited to academics. Last night the meteorologists were
gleefully predicting a BIG STORM. Right now it feels like my house is
in a snow globe. Eugene is plowing. If enough of the white snow
sticks there should be decent sledding at the old school hill which,
luckily, is in easy walking distance. (Jules).
That white stuff is here again. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene and all the others who are
blizzard battling.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
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