The Good Sister
Adult mystery
"My sister, my best friend, Becky.
And now: here we are.
Cot death, the defense says--unexplained.
Murder, the prosecution says.
I look at my sister in the dock.
The woman accused of murdering my child."
Martha is the successful sister in her family--the one with the
carefully curated seaside home, the professional husband, and the
reserved demeanor. When she and hubbie Scott decided it was time to
start a family she became pregnant with a baby girl, Layla.
Martha, however, was torn in her loyalties. She ran a nonprofit
she had created that provided a safe place for refugee children in
another country. Managing it at a distance while parenting a nearly
constantly crying baby was proving to be more than she had
anticipated. If only she could find someone to watch Layla during the
times she was most time crunched. But who could she trust enough?
Becky was the family's free spirit--the one who dropped out of
school, got pregnant early, and ended up in divorce court after a spur
of the moment affair; the one with a volatile temper and the ability
to express it. Being hired as an on call sitter let her drop some of
an array of part time jobs. But it was a far from ideal
arrangement. Being responsible for an impossible to soothe infant
wore on her nerves. And she had begun to feel that she was being
taken advantage of.
One night the unthinkable happens. Becky wakes up to find Layla
unresponsive. Nothing can be done to save her. Over the course of a
trial readers get to join the jury in listening to the witnesses,
sorting through the evidence, and determining what really happened on
that fateful night.
On a purrrsonal note, as much as I dearly and desperately want a cat
to love, I am becoming increasingly anxious that I might somehow fail
it. I am doing all I can to make the house feline safe. Maybe I
won't be a good enough human companion. The last time I felt such an
overwhelming mixture or yearning and anxiety was the last weeks of my
pregnancy with Amber. Even if I'm less than purrrfect I have better
than the streets or a shelter to offer.
Hopefully.
A great big shout out goes out to the best little cat in the world who
loved me.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Sunday, December 22, 2019
Saturday, December 21, 2019
White Like Me
White Like Me
Adult nonfiction
"As a white man, born and raised in a society that has always
bestowed on me advantages that it has just as deliberately withheld
from people of color, I am not expected to think the way I do. I am
not expected to speak against and agitate in opposition to racism and
institutionalized white supremacy...historically white folks have made
something of a pastime out of ignoring racism or at least refusing to
call it out as a social problem to be remedied."
Tim Wise, quoted above, not only saw fit to call prejudice and
privilege out as a big time problem, but made it his vocation. He
studied it on the micro and macro levels, picking apart the strands of
his family heritage and his upbringing as well as researching the
larger picture. In White Like Me he weaves both strands together into
a spell binding narrative.
Wise tells readers a number of candid stories in which his
whiteness let him live a life that included book authorship instead of
jail time or worse. In high school he went to parties in white homes
in white neighborhoods that featured illicit drugs and underage
drinking. The police who sometimes dropped by (Could you keep the
noise down? The neighbors are complaining.) were very good at
ignoring the substance abuse going on.
"Had these house parties been in black neighborhoods they would
never have been allowed to go on at all, as large as they were, even
without a single illegal substance on the premises, and without a
single weapon in sight. But for whites, in white neighborhoods,
everything was different. Our illegality was looked at with a wink or
a nod."
Then there was the time Wise was lost in Idaho, driving through
a rural countryside to find the restaurant he was to meet his hosts
at. Luckily they called his cell phone and oriented him. If he'd
been driving without a cell phone he would have stopped at a farm
house to ask for directions.
"...I could have waltzed right up, even on a night as foggy as
that one, knocked on the door or rung the bell, smiled, and known that
when the door was opened there would be no reason to fear that my
presence would have prompted the owners to call the police or reach
for a gun."
Just like Wise, those of us who are white rock privilege, often
without even being aware of it. He schools us on what forms this
privilege takes, why we are so good at not recognizing it, why we need
to wake up already, and how we should join the fight to change
things. This book makes a significant contribution to the genre of
white privilege narratives.
On a purrrsonal note, Academic Showcase was awesome! Lots of people
asked me about my poster and were quite impressed with my
explanation. Dean Dana wants a photocopy of survey it was based on.
After Showcase we had the traditional Christmas party for members of
my program: good food, good conversation, and the much loved Yankee
swap. Thursday and Friday I worked my last shifts of the semester at
Wells. They were very light since most of our diners had already gone
home for the holidays. With Eugene at camp--no need to cook--I plan
to get my knee healed up all the way by writing with my knee elevated
on the sofa by the tree today and Sunday.
Good luck with all your holiday preparations!
A great big shout out goes out to all who were responsible for setting
up Academic Showcase and the Christmas party and to the best little
cat in the world who would have so loved our beautiful Christmas
tree. The holiday season was always sweet Joey's favorite time of the
year. I miss him so much more than words can ever express!
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"As a white man, born and raised in a society that has always
bestowed on me advantages that it has just as deliberately withheld
from people of color, I am not expected to think the way I do. I am
not expected to speak against and agitate in opposition to racism and
institutionalized white supremacy...historically white folks have made
something of a pastime out of ignoring racism or at least refusing to
call it out as a social problem to be remedied."
Tim Wise, quoted above, not only saw fit to call prejudice and
privilege out as a big time problem, but made it his vocation. He
studied it on the micro and macro levels, picking apart the strands of
his family heritage and his upbringing as well as researching the
larger picture. In White Like Me he weaves both strands together into
a spell binding narrative.
Wise tells readers a number of candid stories in which his
whiteness let him live a life that included book authorship instead of
jail time or worse. In high school he went to parties in white homes
in white neighborhoods that featured illicit drugs and underage
drinking. The police who sometimes dropped by (Could you keep the
noise down? The neighbors are complaining.) were very good at
ignoring the substance abuse going on.
"Had these house parties been in black neighborhoods they would
never have been allowed to go on at all, as large as they were, even
without a single illegal substance on the premises, and without a
single weapon in sight. But for whites, in white neighborhoods,
everything was different. Our illegality was looked at with a wink or
a nod."
Then there was the time Wise was lost in Idaho, driving through
a rural countryside to find the restaurant he was to meet his hosts
at. Luckily they called his cell phone and oriented him. If he'd
been driving without a cell phone he would have stopped at a farm
house to ask for directions.
"...I could have waltzed right up, even on a night as foggy as
that one, knocked on the door or rung the bell, smiled, and known that
when the door was opened there would be no reason to fear that my
presence would have prompted the owners to call the police or reach
for a gun."
Just like Wise, those of us who are white rock privilege, often
without even being aware of it. He schools us on what forms this
privilege takes, why we are so good at not recognizing it, why we need
to wake up already, and how we should join the fight to change
things. This book makes a significant contribution to the genre of
white privilege narratives.
On a purrrsonal note, Academic Showcase was awesome! Lots of people
asked me about my poster and were quite impressed with my
explanation. Dean Dana wants a photocopy of survey it was based on.
After Showcase we had the traditional Christmas party for members of
my program: good food, good conversation, and the much loved Yankee
swap. Thursday and Friday I worked my last shifts of the semester at
Wells. They were very light since most of our diners had already gone
home for the holidays. With Eugene at camp--no need to cook--I plan
to get my knee healed up all the way by writing with my knee elevated
on the sofa by the tree today and Sunday.
Good luck with all your holiday preparations!
A great big shout out goes out to all who were responsible for setting
up Academic Showcase and the Christmas party and to the best little
cat in the world who would have so loved our beautiful Christmas
tree. The holiday season was always sweet Joey's favorite time of the
year. I miss him so much more than words can ever express!
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, December 16, 2019
On The Clock
On The Clock
Adult nonfiction
If you've been reading my recent blog posts you know that I've
been coping with the aftermath of a bad fall. It hasn't made my
student job in dining services easy since most shifts involve four or
five hours standing. However, I am very lucky to be working at UMaine
instead of in the real world. I was able to call in sick the supper
shift when my knee hurt too badly and I couldn't have climbed into the
high cab of my husband's truck. When I asked to be put on cashier
instead of dishroom my manager arranged for me to be trained. Where I
work I'm seen and treated as a human being whose health and safety are
considered important...
...which is something that every worker deserves just by virtue
of being human. It's also something unavailable to an increasing
percentage of our workforce. If you don't believe that I strongly
suggest that you read Emily Guendelsberger's On The Clock: What Low-
Wage Work Did to Me and How It Drives America Insane. An undercover
expose written in the fine tradition of Barbara Ehrenreich's Nickel
and Dimed, this book is a real eye opener.
Like Ehrenreich, Guendelsberger went undercover. It's a
necessity when researching big business. Those companies, bizarrely
designated as people by the Supreme Court, curate their images so
assiduously that more traditional methods of inquiry would uncover no
more that what they wish uncovered. She did not lie on her
applications or in interviews. She would have been honest in replying
to questions that were never asked. "...All three companies seemed
desperate to hire enough felony- and opiate-free bodies to keep up
with the massive turnover rate built into their business models.
Nobody called my references." Two of the workplaces she did time in
are familiar to probably all of us: Amazon and McDonald's. The
third, Convergys, is a call center that handles phone contact with
customers of large corporations.
Guendelsberger starts her narrative with a term with two
distinctly different meanings: in the weeds. In academia someone in
the weeds was entangled in unimportant details of an endeavor. For
blue collar workers being in the weeds means perpetually working at
maximum speed because you are always behind and there is no let up in
work demands. It's a state of being that is becoming the norm for
more and more of us thanks to algorithmic scheduling. In addition to
making workers' lives wildly unpredictable by greatly differing hours
week to week and last minute schedule posting...
"Businesses also save a ton of money by scheduling the absolute
minimum number of workers to handle the predicted business. And they
save even more by scheduling slightly fewer people than can handle the
predicted work at a reasonable pace. If workers can push themselves
to cover the duties of a sick coworker, doesn't that just mean they're
not giving it 100 percent the rest of the time? Why can't they work
that efficiently every shift?"
Most of us in college or graduate school can put our ultimate
effort into the stepped up demands of finals week when everything is
due. But keeping up that pace for the entirity of the semester
without the built in breaks that allow for catching up or getting
ahead would be unsustainable. It's even more unsustainable for
workers in the physically demanding service sector. It's not meant to
be sustainable. The fact that the businesses that hired Guendelsberg
did not even call her references shows a view of the worker as an
easily replaceable cog to be used and discarded rather than a human to
invest in and cultivate.
Reading On The Clock is like gaining access to a ring of Dante's
Inferno added in the 21st century. You will learn about how:
*serious and sustained pain is an expected part of working at an
Amazon warehouse, and management's response is painkiller vending
machines (never mind that OTC pain killer abuse is decisively linked
to liver and kidney damage) rather than scaling back worker
expectations to something more realistic or increasing breaks.
"...It feels like I've been hit by a garbage truck. Everything
hurts. My feet are the worst, but my back, shoulders, arms, and neck
feel terrible too...I even have a throbbing headache."
(In contrast, on my first work day after my fall my manager had
the napkin holders brought to me to fill instead of having me walk to
all the tables and one of my supervisors told me if I needed to leave
early I could just talk to her.)
*at Convergys ambulances are called so often for panic attacks that an
EMT would ask "Okay, who is it this time?" There are scripts to follow
and quotas to make. Some callers are irate. Workers are mandated to
respond with calmness to vitriole and abuse and to attempt to sell
additional products and services no matter the circumstances.
"Amazon workers complained about the physical stress of
technoTaylorism. But an alarming number of call-center reps mentioned
experiencing its mental stress, citing their jobs as the direct cause
of intense bouts of depression and anxiety as well as ulcers and other
physical results of stress. I could, unfortunately, fill yet another
twenty pages with stories from reps who said their jobs had driven
them to seriously consider self harm or suicide."
And then there's the intense scrutiny of worker time down to and
including bathroom breaks. A worker who had a doctor's note verifying
her digestive problems had a supervisor who would listen outside her
stall to see whether she really had diarrhea every time she used a
toilet. Can you imagine an adult human being having to undergo this
level of humiliation to earn a paycheck?
(Dining Services, in contrast, gets that if you gotta go, you
gotta go. You tell any coworker who might have to cover for you.
Like if you're serving you tell your runner.)
and *at McDonalds workers must perform a wide variety of tasks under
the constant pressure of impatient customer lines. Pushing people to
work faster than is safely possible leads to injuries. One day when
Guendelsberger checked the amount of coffee in the metal pots the
handle of one came loose, baptizing her in scalding hot liquid.
"That puts me in good company. According to a 2015 survey of US
fast-food workers by the National Council for Occupational Safety and
Health, 79 percent had been burned on the job in the previous year--
most more than once. And not everyone got off as easily as I did."
To top that off, many workers, including those with burns
serious enough to require medical attention are told by managers to
apply condiments to the afflicted area and keep on working.
(I can't even imagine that happening where I work. Burns are
rare and taken seriously.)
Even those of us who have so far had the great good fortune to
not have held down one of those jobs from Hell have to take On The
Clock very seriously. Guendelsburger, an educated journalist, ended
up in dire circumstances when the newspaper she had a decent job with
folded. She did all the right things educationally and vocationally
and got screwed. In a world where a lot of formerly secure good jobs
are being killed by automation and outsourcing very few of us are
really safe. So reading On The Clock and getting angry enough to
engage with others is not just the right thing to do and morally
decent. It's potentially self preservation.
Just do it, OK?
On a purrrsonal note, after cashiering instead of being in dishroom
Saturday and spending Sunday mostly reading and watching Home Alone 3
with Eugene my knee is well on the way to recovery. I am so looking
forward to Academic Showcase which will be held in the Dean's Suite
tomorrow. In fact I'm waiting about as patiently as a sugar hyped
first grader on Christmas Eve. I do hope lots of people ask me
questions about my poster!!!
A great big shout out goes out to UMaine managers and supervisors who
I appreciate even more than before since reading On The Clock.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
If you've been reading my recent blog posts you know that I've
been coping with the aftermath of a bad fall. It hasn't made my
student job in dining services easy since most shifts involve four or
five hours standing. However, I am very lucky to be working at UMaine
instead of in the real world. I was able to call in sick the supper
shift when my knee hurt too badly and I couldn't have climbed into the
high cab of my husband's truck. When I asked to be put on cashier
instead of dishroom my manager arranged for me to be trained. Where I
work I'm seen and treated as a human being whose health and safety are
considered important...
...which is something that every worker deserves just by virtue
of being human. It's also something unavailable to an increasing
percentage of our workforce. If you don't believe that I strongly
suggest that you read Emily Guendelsberger's On The Clock: What Low-
Wage Work Did to Me and How It Drives America Insane. An undercover
expose written in the fine tradition of Barbara Ehrenreich's Nickel
and Dimed, this book is a real eye opener.
Like Ehrenreich, Guendelsberger went undercover. It's a
necessity when researching big business. Those companies, bizarrely
designated as people by the Supreme Court, curate their images so
assiduously that more traditional methods of inquiry would uncover no
more that what they wish uncovered. She did not lie on her
applications or in interviews. She would have been honest in replying
to questions that were never asked. "...All three companies seemed
desperate to hire enough felony- and opiate-free bodies to keep up
with the massive turnover rate built into their business models.
Nobody called my references." Two of the workplaces she did time in
are familiar to probably all of us: Amazon and McDonald's. The
third, Convergys, is a call center that handles phone contact with
customers of large corporations.
Guendelsberger starts her narrative with a term with two
distinctly different meanings: in the weeds. In academia someone in
the weeds was entangled in unimportant details of an endeavor. For
blue collar workers being in the weeds means perpetually working at
maximum speed because you are always behind and there is no let up in
work demands. It's a state of being that is becoming the norm for
more and more of us thanks to algorithmic scheduling. In addition to
making workers' lives wildly unpredictable by greatly differing hours
week to week and last minute schedule posting...
"Businesses also save a ton of money by scheduling the absolute
minimum number of workers to handle the predicted business. And they
save even more by scheduling slightly fewer people than can handle the
predicted work at a reasonable pace. If workers can push themselves
to cover the duties of a sick coworker, doesn't that just mean they're
not giving it 100 percent the rest of the time? Why can't they work
that efficiently every shift?"
Most of us in college or graduate school can put our ultimate
effort into the stepped up demands of finals week when everything is
due. But keeping up that pace for the entirity of the semester
without the built in breaks that allow for catching up or getting
ahead would be unsustainable. It's even more unsustainable for
workers in the physically demanding service sector. It's not meant to
be sustainable. The fact that the businesses that hired Guendelsberg
did not even call her references shows a view of the worker as an
easily replaceable cog to be used and discarded rather than a human to
invest in and cultivate.
Reading On The Clock is like gaining access to a ring of Dante's
Inferno added in the 21st century. You will learn about how:
*serious and sustained pain is an expected part of working at an
Amazon warehouse, and management's response is painkiller vending
machines (never mind that OTC pain killer abuse is decisively linked
to liver and kidney damage) rather than scaling back worker
expectations to something more realistic or increasing breaks.
"...It feels like I've been hit by a garbage truck. Everything
hurts. My feet are the worst, but my back, shoulders, arms, and neck
feel terrible too...I even have a throbbing headache."
(In contrast, on my first work day after my fall my manager had
the napkin holders brought to me to fill instead of having me walk to
all the tables and one of my supervisors told me if I needed to leave
early I could just talk to her.)
*at Convergys ambulances are called so often for panic attacks that an
EMT would ask "Okay, who is it this time?" There are scripts to follow
and quotas to make. Some callers are irate. Workers are mandated to
respond with calmness to vitriole and abuse and to attempt to sell
additional products and services no matter the circumstances.
"Amazon workers complained about the physical stress of
technoTaylorism. But an alarming number of call-center reps mentioned
experiencing its mental stress, citing their jobs as the direct cause
of intense bouts of depression and anxiety as well as ulcers and other
physical results of stress. I could, unfortunately, fill yet another
twenty pages with stories from reps who said their jobs had driven
them to seriously consider self harm or suicide."
And then there's the intense scrutiny of worker time down to and
including bathroom breaks. A worker who had a doctor's note verifying
her digestive problems had a supervisor who would listen outside her
stall to see whether she really had diarrhea every time she used a
toilet. Can you imagine an adult human being having to undergo this
level of humiliation to earn a paycheck?
(Dining Services, in contrast, gets that if you gotta go, you
gotta go. You tell any coworker who might have to cover for you.
Like if you're serving you tell your runner.)
and *at McDonalds workers must perform a wide variety of tasks under
the constant pressure of impatient customer lines. Pushing people to
work faster than is safely possible leads to injuries. One day when
Guendelsberger checked the amount of coffee in the metal pots the
handle of one came loose, baptizing her in scalding hot liquid.
"That puts me in good company. According to a 2015 survey of US
fast-food workers by the National Council for Occupational Safety and
Health, 79 percent had been burned on the job in the previous year--
most more than once. And not everyone got off as easily as I did."
To top that off, many workers, including those with burns
serious enough to require medical attention are told by managers to
apply condiments to the afflicted area and keep on working.
(I can't even imagine that happening where I work. Burns are
rare and taken seriously.)
Even those of us who have so far had the great good fortune to
not have held down one of those jobs from Hell have to take On The
Clock very seriously. Guendelsburger, an educated journalist, ended
up in dire circumstances when the newspaper she had a decent job with
folded. She did all the right things educationally and vocationally
and got screwed. In a world where a lot of formerly secure good jobs
are being killed by automation and outsourcing very few of us are
really safe. So reading On The Clock and getting angry enough to
engage with others is not just the right thing to do and morally
decent. It's potentially self preservation.
Just do it, OK?
On a purrrsonal note, after cashiering instead of being in dishroom
Saturday and spending Sunday mostly reading and watching Home Alone 3
with Eugene my knee is well on the way to recovery. I am so looking
forward to Academic Showcase which will be held in the Dean's Suite
tomorrow. In fact I'm waiting about as patiently as a sugar hyped
first grader on Christmas Eve. I do hope lots of people ask me
questions about my poster!!!
A great big shout out goes out to UMaine managers and supervisors who
I appreciate even more than before since reading On The Clock.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Wednesday, December 11, 2019
Let Me Hear a Rhyme
Let Me Hear a Rhyme
YA/adult fiction
"I thought I'd see some reporters and cameras at the church.
For the past few days, I flipped through channels waiting to see
Steph's photo cross the screen, but everyone was busy talking about
President Clinton hooking up with that intern. Like, damn, don't
murders make the news no more?
Don't they know who Steph was? I mean, yeah, folks die every
day. But it's not every day you lose your main man."
Quadir (quoted above), Jarrell, and Jasmine, narrators of
Tiffany Jackson's Let Me Hear a Rhyme, are seriously grieving. A
seemingly ordinary end of summer has been blasted to bits by the
bullets that took Steph's life before he even graduated high school.
Quadir and Jarrell are his best friends. Tiffany is his kid sister
who has also recently lost her father.
Hip hop had been Steph's passion. He'd been working on
developing his own material, planning on becoming a performer. His
room is full of CDs, tapes, and notebooks full of rhymes. Jarrell
comes up with an idea. Steph could become posthumously famous if he,
Quadir, and Jasmine get his music in the right hands while maintaining
the illusion that he's still alive. That will prove to be a very
dangerous endeavor. The teens are dealing with some very unsavory
characters with connections, people who might get mighty angry if they
think they're getting played. If you enjoy a spine chilling
contemporary narrative you will find Let Me Hear a Rhyme to be a must
read.
On a personal note, fall semester is winding down. Next week is
finals. I had a very hectic few days getting ready for my theories
final which was this week, writing a big paper, and sending in a
poster proposal for the big conference in March...and of course
working. It's harder being on my feet for hours when my knee hurts
from my falling running for the bus. I will be so glad when it heals
up. Today I was supposed to work supper shift. But Eugene would have
picked me up. No way could I have climbed into a high cab pick up
truck. So I called in sick and volunteered with an on campus blood
drive where I could be sitting down and resting my knee. I have a lot
more empathy for people with physical disabilities.
A great big shout out goes out to my fellow students writing papers
and studying for exams and the profs who will have a whole lot of
grading to do.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA/adult fiction
"I thought I'd see some reporters and cameras at the church.
For the past few days, I flipped through channels waiting to see
Steph's photo cross the screen, but everyone was busy talking about
President Clinton hooking up with that intern. Like, damn, don't
murders make the news no more?
Don't they know who Steph was? I mean, yeah, folks die every
day. But it's not every day you lose your main man."
Quadir (quoted above), Jarrell, and Jasmine, narrators of
Tiffany Jackson's Let Me Hear a Rhyme, are seriously grieving. A
seemingly ordinary end of summer has been blasted to bits by the
bullets that took Steph's life before he even graduated high school.
Quadir and Jarrell are his best friends. Tiffany is his kid sister
who has also recently lost her father.
Hip hop had been Steph's passion. He'd been working on
developing his own material, planning on becoming a performer. His
room is full of CDs, tapes, and notebooks full of rhymes. Jarrell
comes up with an idea. Steph could become posthumously famous if he,
Quadir, and Jasmine get his music in the right hands while maintaining
the illusion that he's still alive. That will prove to be a very
dangerous endeavor. The teens are dealing with some very unsavory
characters with connections, people who might get mighty angry if they
think they're getting played. If you enjoy a spine chilling
contemporary narrative you will find Let Me Hear a Rhyme to be a must
read.
On a personal note, fall semester is winding down. Next week is
finals. I had a very hectic few days getting ready for my theories
final which was this week, writing a big paper, and sending in a
poster proposal for the big conference in March...and of course
working. It's harder being on my feet for hours when my knee hurts
from my falling running for the bus. I will be so glad when it heals
up. Today I was supposed to work supper shift. But Eugene would have
picked me up. No way could I have climbed into a high cab pick up
truck. So I called in sick and volunteered with an on campus blood
drive where I could be sitting down and resting my knee. I have a lot
more empathy for people with physical disabilities.
A great big shout out goes out to my fellow students writing papers
and studying for exams and the profs who will have a whole lot of
grading to do.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Saturday, December 7, 2019
Why Are All The Black Kids Sitting Together In The Cafeteria?
Why Are All The Black Kids Sitting Together In The Cafeteria?
Adult nonfiction
"Walk into any racially mixed high school cafeteria at lunchtime
and you will instantly notice that in the sea of adolescent faces,
there is an identifiable group of Black students sitting together.
Conversely, it could be pointed out that there are many groups of
White students sitting together as well, though people rarely comment
on that. The question on the tip of everyone's tongue is, 'Why are
the black kids sitting together?' Principals want to know, teachers
want to know, White students want to know, the Black students who
aren't sitting at the table want to know."
If you're anything like me you'll want to know. So you will be
quite pleased that, through the magic of inter library loan, I managed
to track down Beverly Daniel Tatum's Why Are All The Black Kids
Sitting Together In The Cafeteria? Although Tatum has her PhD and has
held prestigious positions like college president, she succeeds in
making her book one that her target audience--parents, educators, and
community leaders--can grasp. Sadly her topic remains so timely and
crucial her original 1997 volume has been supplanted by a 20th
anniversary edition. Among the points she makes are:
*We all grow up with racial identities. White is the "normative,"
color neutral or default option. If we want to make any useful
contributions to racial dialogues, we need to examine and come to
terms with the racial privilege that accrues to us because of skin
color.
*The election of a Black president doesn't put America into a post
racial utopia. We have a lot of systematic oppression going on and
hate crimes on the rise. "...we may be living in a color-silent
society, where we have learned to avoid talking about racial
difference. But even if we refrain from mentioning race, the evidence
is clear that we still notice racial categories, and that our
behaviors are guided by what we notice."
For Whites the journey from unaware participation in racism and
privilege to authentic alliance is challenging, complex, and full of
potential quitting points. Some of us will be too offended by new
information that calls into question cherished concepts like
meritocracy. Some of us won't want to rock the boat. After all,
we're the ones the system benefits. Many of us will be too afraid of
making mistakes that we fear will alienate either our white families
and communities or the non White communities we're tentatively
reaching out to try much of anything.
If you want to make this challenging but immensely rewarding
journey, this book is a must read. It's one of the best books on
racial identity and relations that I've ever seen. Professionals who
work with younger people in the middle school to college range will
find much useful information in the developmental perspective Tatum
takes.
On a purrrsonal note, we're at the tail end of the semester where it
can be a challenge to complete everything on time, especially for
those of us who don't have cars. Little things can loom big. I had
to buy 3 fold posterboard (the stuff kids do science fair projects
with) so I can get ready for Academic Showcase. This requires two
buses each way to Bangor. There was only one day showing no rain or
snow when I'd have 4 or 5 hours. Only the same day Eugene needed me
to go to the Credit Union--opposite direction, Orono. And before I set
off for that I got an email about the climate strike on campus. So
after I stopped by the credit union I was involved in that. I ended
up making a speech which was well received. Then it was off to Bangor
where I got my posterboard (and 4 cute shirts at Goodwill). I made
the big mistake of running to catch the bus to not miss the once an
hour connecting bus to Veazie and fell flat on my face. Luckily the
bus driver stopped. Luckily a girl on the bus had napkins so I didn't
bleed all over my winter coat. Very luckily I didn't lose my two
front teeth. I can't be ugly for
Academic Showcase. All that drama and by the time I made supper and
cleaned up from it the day was just about over.
Today walking hurt but I made it to work (with a one mile to the bus
stop) and worked my shift. I still have a fat lip and can hardly eat
a thing. But I am home and plan for tomorrow to be a studython--
getting ready for my final and writing my big paper.
A great big shout out goes out to all who participated in the climate
strike and the news people who covered it.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"Walk into any racially mixed high school cafeteria at lunchtime
and you will instantly notice that in the sea of adolescent faces,
there is an identifiable group of Black students sitting together.
Conversely, it could be pointed out that there are many groups of
White students sitting together as well, though people rarely comment
on that. The question on the tip of everyone's tongue is, 'Why are
the black kids sitting together?' Principals want to know, teachers
want to know, White students want to know, the Black students who
aren't sitting at the table want to know."
If you're anything like me you'll want to know. So you will be
quite pleased that, through the magic of inter library loan, I managed
to track down Beverly Daniel Tatum's Why Are All The Black Kids
Sitting Together In The Cafeteria? Although Tatum has her PhD and has
held prestigious positions like college president, she succeeds in
making her book one that her target audience--parents, educators, and
community leaders--can grasp. Sadly her topic remains so timely and
crucial her original 1997 volume has been supplanted by a 20th
anniversary edition. Among the points she makes are:
*We all grow up with racial identities. White is the "normative,"
color neutral or default option. If we want to make any useful
contributions to racial dialogues, we need to examine and come to
terms with the racial privilege that accrues to us because of skin
color.
*The election of a Black president doesn't put America into a post
racial utopia. We have a lot of systematic oppression going on and
hate crimes on the rise. "...we may be living in a color-silent
society, where we have learned to avoid talking about racial
difference. But even if we refrain from mentioning race, the evidence
is clear that we still notice racial categories, and that our
behaviors are guided by what we notice."
For Whites the journey from unaware participation in racism and
privilege to authentic alliance is challenging, complex, and full of
potential quitting points. Some of us will be too offended by new
information that calls into question cherished concepts like
meritocracy. Some of us won't want to rock the boat. After all,
we're the ones the system benefits. Many of us will be too afraid of
making mistakes that we fear will alienate either our white families
and communities or the non White communities we're tentatively
reaching out to try much of anything.
If you want to make this challenging but immensely rewarding
journey, this book is a must read. It's one of the best books on
racial identity and relations that I've ever seen. Professionals who
work with younger people in the middle school to college range will
find much useful information in the developmental perspective Tatum
takes.
On a purrrsonal note, we're at the tail end of the semester where it
can be a challenge to complete everything on time, especially for
those of us who don't have cars. Little things can loom big. I had
to buy 3 fold posterboard (the stuff kids do science fair projects
with) so I can get ready for Academic Showcase. This requires two
buses each way to Bangor. There was only one day showing no rain or
snow when I'd have 4 or 5 hours. Only the same day Eugene needed me
to go to the Credit Union--opposite direction, Orono. And before I set
off for that I got an email about the climate strike on campus. So
after I stopped by the credit union I was involved in that. I ended
up making a speech which was well received. Then it was off to Bangor
where I got my posterboard (and 4 cute shirts at Goodwill). I made
the big mistake of running to catch the bus to not miss the once an
hour connecting bus to Veazie and fell flat on my face. Luckily the
bus driver stopped. Luckily a girl on the bus had napkins so I didn't
bleed all over my winter coat. Very luckily I didn't lose my two
front teeth. I can't be ugly for
Academic Showcase. All that drama and by the time I made supper and
cleaned up from it the day was just about over.
Today walking hurt but I made it to work (with a one mile to the bus
stop) and worked my shift. I still have a fat lip and can hardly eat
a thing. But I am home and plan for tomorrow to be a studython--
getting ready for my final and writing my big paper.
A great big shout out goes out to all who participated in the climate
strike and the news people who covered it.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Thursday, December 5, 2019
This Chair Rocks
This Chair Rocks
Adult nonfiction
"I've never lied about my age--I have no problem saying 'I'm
sixty-five' loud and clear--but I sure know a lot of people who do.
People who've lied on resumes and on airlines and on dates. There was
the opera singer who fudged upward at the beginning of her career so
she could get cast as Norma, but was holding at thirty-nine and the
woman who loved passing off her granddaughters as her daughters, and
who was regularly connected to her bank's fraud department because she
couldn't remember what birth date she was using."
I bet you know at least person who's fudging her age: having
yet another 29th birthday or spending mad bucks on everything from
hair dye to toxin injections. Call it what it is: passing. As in
other forms of passing (for white, for straight) it happens in a
society where a false binary sorts humanity into normative and
despised other with serious penalties for being in the wrong group.
America is a decidedly ageist nation. Ashton Applewhite, quoted
above, spells out the whole sordid state of affairs in her This Chair
Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism, exposing practices that range from
discouraging to deadly including:
*how politicians pit younger and older voters against each other (well
we can increase funding for schools or "elder" housing, but not both)
to successfully ditract all of us from seeing how we're being screwed
by the greed of the wealthy and their bought and owned legislators;
*how language really matters. Words like elderly reinforce
stereotypes of senility, incompetence, and fragility. Internalizing
these stereotypes actually leads to earlier deaths;
*how unfounded stereotypes on the part of managers and other hirers
prevent older people from getting jobs for which they're perfectly
qualified;
and *how older patients tend to get both under treated and over
medicated.
"Like racism and sexism, ageism is not about how we look. It's
about what people in power want our appearance to mean. Ageism occurs
when the dominant group uses its power to oppress or exploit or
silence or simply ignore people who are much younger or significantly
older. We experience ageism any time someone assumes we're too old
for something--a task, a relationship, a haircut--instead of finding
our who we are and what we're capable of..."
The book isn't all gloom and doom though. Applewhite has plenty
of ways we can all work together to turn our current sorry state of
affairs around. She ends her introduction with this very inspiring
paragraph:
"This book is a call to wake up to the ageism in and around us,
embrace a much more nuanced and accurate view of growing older, cheer
up, and push back...What might an age-friendly world--friendly to all
ages, that is--look like? What can we do, individually and
collectively, to provoke the necessary change in consciousness, and
catalyze a necessary age movement to make it happen?
Let's find out."
Amen to that! You can start by reading the book.
On a purrrsonal note, I did have enough iron to donate blood
yesterday. Yay! I found out my blood pressure is 114/68 which is
EXCELLENT! I volunteered 4 1/2 hours at canteen. Then I went to a
most excellent study session for the theories final.
The next couple of weeks I will be achieving all my academics and work
shifts for the semester. I have the biggest incentive ever to offer
myself. When I have all the school stuff taken care of I am going to
check out the credible rumors that Old Town Animal Orphanage has some
cuddle cats. What I really want for Christmas is a feline friend.
And I have a lot to offer a home needing cat.
Great big shout outs go out to everyone involved in the blood drive,
the sweet little cat who I have to believe is out there, and the best
little cat in the world who left indellible paw prints on my heart.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"I've never lied about my age--I have no problem saying 'I'm
sixty-five' loud and clear--but I sure know a lot of people who do.
People who've lied on resumes and on airlines and on dates. There was
the opera singer who fudged upward at the beginning of her career so
she could get cast as Norma, but was holding at thirty-nine and the
woman who loved passing off her granddaughters as her daughters, and
who was regularly connected to her bank's fraud department because she
couldn't remember what birth date she was using."
I bet you know at least person who's fudging her age: having
yet another 29th birthday or spending mad bucks on everything from
hair dye to toxin injections. Call it what it is: passing. As in
other forms of passing (for white, for straight) it happens in a
society where a false binary sorts humanity into normative and
despised other with serious penalties for being in the wrong group.
America is a decidedly ageist nation. Ashton Applewhite, quoted
above, spells out the whole sordid state of affairs in her This Chair
Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism, exposing practices that range from
discouraging to deadly including:
*how politicians pit younger and older voters against each other (well
we can increase funding for schools or "elder" housing, but not both)
to successfully ditract all of us from seeing how we're being screwed
by the greed of the wealthy and their bought and owned legislators;
*how language really matters. Words like elderly reinforce
stereotypes of senility, incompetence, and fragility. Internalizing
these stereotypes actually leads to earlier deaths;
*how unfounded stereotypes on the part of managers and other hirers
prevent older people from getting jobs for which they're perfectly
qualified;
and *how older patients tend to get both under treated and over
medicated.
"Like racism and sexism, ageism is not about how we look. It's
about what people in power want our appearance to mean. Ageism occurs
when the dominant group uses its power to oppress or exploit or
silence or simply ignore people who are much younger or significantly
older. We experience ageism any time someone assumes we're too old
for something--a task, a relationship, a haircut--instead of finding
our who we are and what we're capable of..."
The book isn't all gloom and doom though. Applewhite has plenty
of ways we can all work together to turn our current sorry state of
affairs around. She ends her introduction with this very inspiring
paragraph:
"This book is a call to wake up to the ageism in and around us,
embrace a much more nuanced and accurate view of growing older, cheer
up, and push back...What might an age-friendly world--friendly to all
ages, that is--look like? What can we do, individually and
collectively, to provoke the necessary change in consciousness, and
catalyze a necessary age movement to make it happen?
Let's find out."
Amen to that! You can start by reading the book.
On a purrrsonal note, I did have enough iron to donate blood
yesterday. Yay! I found out my blood pressure is 114/68 which is
EXCELLENT! I volunteered 4 1/2 hours at canteen. Then I went to a
most excellent study session for the theories final.
The next couple of weeks I will be achieving all my academics and work
shifts for the semester. I have the biggest incentive ever to offer
myself. When I have all the school stuff taken care of I am going to
check out the credible rumors that Old Town Animal Orphanage has some
cuddle cats. What I really want for Christmas is a feline friend.
And I have a lot to offer a home needing cat.
Great big shout outs go out to everyone involved in the blood drive,
the sweet little cat who I have to believe is out there, and the best
little cat in the world who left indellible paw prints on my heart.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Wednesday, December 4, 2019
Big Little Lies
Big Little Lies
Adult mystery
"As Mrs. Ponder watched, one Elvis punched another across the
jaw. He staggered back into an Audrey. Two Elvises grabbed him from
behind and pulled him away. An Audrey buried her face in her hands
and turned aside, as though she couldn't bear to watch. Someone
shouted, 'Stop this!'
Indeed! What would your beautiful children think?
'Should I call the police?' wondered Mrs. Ponder out loud. But
then she heard the wail of a siren in the distance, at the same time
she heard a woman on the balcony begin to scream and scream."
If I was to ask you to guess the context in which the above
scenario takes place you'd probably guess wrong. Chapter 1 of Liane
Moriarty's Big Little Lies centers around a small Australian town's
public school. Mrs. Ponder is a neighbor whose property backs up on
the school playground. The moms and dads are behaving badly at the
school's trivia night to raise money to raise money to buy smart
boards for the classrooms. Before the night is over one of them will
be dead.
After setting that tantelizing scene, Moriarty takes readers
back six months to kindergarten orientation. The son of a newly
arrived and far from prosperous single mom (Jane) is accused of
hurting the gifted daughter of a high status career woman (Renee).
When school begins retaliations and counter retaliations commence.
But those aren't the only dramas among the kindy parents. Madeline's
ex husband and his new family have moved to town. Her youngest child
and his child are in the same class. The teenage daughter from the
first marriage is seeming to switch loyalties from the mom who
struggled to support her to the dad who abandoned her in infancy.
Wealthy Celeste and Perry's may not be quite what they portray on
social media.
The narrative is told from a lot of different perspectives.
You'll become privy to all the alliances and intrigues in that far
from sleepy small town. If you love a good mystery as much as I do
you'll get caught up in trying to deduce who the killer and victim
will turn out to be.
On a purrrsonal note, Monday night the meteorologists were gleefully
upgrading their Tuesday snow predictions from 2-5" to major storm. My
first thought was OMG! I didn't want class cancelled again. When I
woke up morning classes were cancelled until 10:00 which was fine with
me. Commuting was a challenge. The snow was mixed with sleet. When
I arrived on campus I saw an announcement that classes were cancelled
until the next day. I was so angry I ate three doughnuts when I went
in to work. The other students were so happy to have a snow day. I
was happy for them. I wanted to be happy too. But not only was my
class cancelled, but I couldn't feel the magic which was not
surprising since I wouldn't have sweet Joey cat to come home early
to. Amber says I didn't have a snow day since commuting and my shift
added up to eight hours. I'll take her word for that.
Today is the blood drive, which I'm very glad won't be snow
cancelled. I've been eating stuff to build my iron. If I can't
donate today I'll have to wait til next year. :P There will be an
exam prep session at 5:00. I'll go if I'm steady enough on my feet.
Great big shout outs go out to the other essential personnel who
managed to get through the storm to work and the best little cat in
the world who would have made the snow day magic even though I had to
work.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult mystery
"As Mrs. Ponder watched, one Elvis punched another across the
jaw. He staggered back into an Audrey. Two Elvises grabbed him from
behind and pulled him away. An Audrey buried her face in her hands
and turned aside, as though she couldn't bear to watch. Someone
shouted, 'Stop this!'
Indeed! What would your beautiful children think?
'Should I call the police?' wondered Mrs. Ponder out loud. But
then she heard the wail of a siren in the distance, at the same time
she heard a woman on the balcony begin to scream and scream."
If I was to ask you to guess the context in which the above
scenario takes place you'd probably guess wrong. Chapter 1 of Liane
Moriarty's Big Little Lies centers around a small Australian town's
public school. Mrs. Ponder is a neighbor whose property backs up on
the school playground. The moms and dads are behaving badly at the
school's trivia night to raise money to raise money to buy smart
boards for the classrooms. Before the night is over one of them will
be dead.
After setting that tantelizing scene, Moriarty takes readers
back six months to kindergarten orientation. The son of a newly
arrived and far from prosperous single mom (Jane) is accused of
hurting the gifted daughter of a high status career woman (Renee).
When school begins retaliations and counter retaliations commence.
But those aren't the only dramas among the kindy parents. Madeline's
ex husband and his new family have moved to town. Her youngest child
and his child are in the same class. The teenage daughter from the
first marriage is seeming to switch loyalties from the mom who
struggled to support her to the dad who abandoned her in infancy.
Wealthy Celeste and Perry's may not be quite what they portray on
social media.
The narrative is told from a lot of different perspectives.
You'll become privy to all the alliances and intrigues in that far
from sleepy small town. If you love a good mystery as much as I do
you'll get caught up in trying to deduce who the killer and victim
will turn out to be.
On a purrrsonal note, Monday night the meteorologists were gleefully
upgrading their Tuesday snow predictions from 2-5" to major storm. My
first thought was OMG! I didn't want class cancelled again. When I
woke up morning classes were cancelled until 10:00 which was fine with
me. Commuting was a challenge. The snow was mixed with sleet. When
I arrived on campus I saw an announcement that classes were cancelled
until the next day. I was so angry I ate three doughnuts when I went
in to work. The other students were so happy to have a snow day. I
was happy for them. I wanted to be happy too. But not only was my
class cancelled, but I couldn't feel the magic which was not
surprising since I wouldn't have sweet Joey cat to come home early
to. Amber says I didn't have a snow day since commuting and my shift
added up to eight hours. I'll take her word for that.
Today is the blood drive, which I'm very glad won't be snow
cancelled. I've been eating stuff to build my iron. If I can't
donate today I'll have to wait til next year. :P There will be an
exam prep session at 5:00. I'll go if I'm steady enough on my feet.
Great big shout outs go out to the other essential personnel who
managed to get through the storm to work and the best little cat in
the world who would have made the snow day magic even though I had to
work.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
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