Becoming Annie Oakley

One year, when I was a young girl, my Christmas stocking held a pretty surprise. It was a bar of perfumed soap with the decal of a Victorian beauty on it. This girl was my mother's ideal of the perfect daughter, a thoroughly daunting assignment. Around the same time neighbor caught me in a telling snapshot ... mahogany from sun and surf, limbs as thin as pipe cleaners, a thicket of black hair blowing in all directions, shoeless. It was an accurate depiction. I wore no shoes, took no bath or nap willingly, ate on the run, could not sit still. My mother expressed herself in epithets, from Imp of Satan to Hoyden. She suggested I be returned to the Indians, whose child I must be.  

     My Father, by contrast, grew up motherless and without female siblings. He had no son, so he willingly taught me invaluable life lessons, placing no limitation on what I could achieve. He taught me to ride a horse, fly a plane, sail, navigate by the heavens ... take apart, maintain, load and shoot guns. I can shoot a rifle or hunting bow, clean and skin an elk with the best of 'em. Nonetheless I vehemently disagree with Nevada Assembly Member, Michelle Fiore, who recommends female college students pack guns. Her characterization of college women as "hot little girls," only adds fuel to my fire. Clearly Ms. Fiore has stayed in Las Vegas ... too long. In any event her remarks and her suggestion serve neither men nor women.  

     
    I have taught many high school students, male and female. I have also supervised juvenile offenders in workplaces. I wonder how much the world has changed, in terms of preparing coeds for life in the real world. Few of the young women I taught had more than a brush with formal self-defense training. Absent that exposure wresting a weapon from one of them would pose little challenge to a predator. We cannot all be Annie Oakley. Consider what is required of a sharpshooter: 1) superb eyesight, physical and mental fitness, mature judgment, as well as highly developed self-control. In addition anyone who proposes to carry a loaded gun must be willing to: 1) learn and practice maintaining, loading and shooting the weapon; 2) always secure the weapon; 3) aim and shoot with intent; 4) shoot without hesitation. So, thinking about equal opportunity offenders, how would the Assembly Woman recommend we protect our young men from their gun-toting counterparts? 

     Thank God both the Victorian feminine idol, and Annie Oakley, have faded to historical fantasy. Perhaps I simply do not grasp the romance of Victorian England or the American Frontier. (I am more Annie Oakley than Lady Crowley, I must say.) Like it or not, though, my mother held me to standards of feminine behavior in dress, manner and accomplishment, some of which harkened to Victorian times. I have daughters, whose grandmother occasionally outvoted me. As modern as my aspirations were, however, they did not include preparing the girls to pack heat. Of course some young women choose careers in the military or police. Whatever their choices in education and careers, we hope against hope our daughters' life experiences do not make them either femmes fatales, nor ruthless gang members.

Your genetics load the gun. Your lifestyle pulls the trigger. -Mehmet Oz

     What is our last, best hope for ensuring the safety of our college women and men? I believe school safety at any level is latent in the doctrine of in loco parentis. From Common Law to modern school policy, the doctrine has been misunderstood and perverted, and needs to evolve. The original intention was to give educators custody of students. While in school, students cannot avail themselves of the protection of parents or guardians, thus schools become accountable for student safety. The courts never intended school authorities to fully act as parents. Personally I do not believe the courts intended teachers to arm themselves with loaded guns, either.

    A more accurate view is of the school as an extension of the state, rather than as a substitute parent. I read with great interest the findings of the Sandy Hook Advisory Commission. The findings speak to the education system, including institutions of higher learning:

http://www.governor.ct.gov/malloy/lib/malloy/SHAC_Doc_2015.02.13_draft_version_of_final_report.pdf

The following is a link to the "Boston Globe" coverage of the security measures recommended in the Final Report of the Commission: 

http://www.bostonglobe.com/opinion/editorials/2015/02/21/adopt-security-ideas-sandy-hook-report/yiGCGPYHPMo72TIPq5USbN/story.html

What I know for certain is, unless people stop demanding change, public policy regarding guns and the Constitution must evolve. If only our attitudes toward both genders would evolve at a pace greater than that of glacial creep, they could obviate the need for part of the dialog concerning guns on campus. 

Godsend

Long ago, accompanied by my daughters, I needed to purchase some makeup basics. The girls hovered between cosmetic counters like honey bees in a Spring garden. Their enthusiasm was as boundless as their energy, and the department staff loved it! Soon salespeople were offering the girls samples of wondrous products. I finished making my small purchases, and we headed toward the parking lot. My daughter, Merritt, whispered, "Mom, samples are from God!" I said, "I know, dear." She is now the manager of a cosmetic line and is generous in spirit with everyone she encounters. Her younger sister creates wondrous miniature worlds in music boxes and bottle gardens. An artist and designer, she shares her creations within and outside of her personal world.

What is a godsend for you? For me it is the generosity of one or another of my children or face time with family. Even the remotest odds of a godsend inspire some people to purchase lottery tickets. For the time we carry a ticket in a pocket or wallet, we hope against hope. We hold possibility in thrall. The ATM could go amok, spitting $20 bills at my feet. I may get the all-clear from my Oncologist. The first ladybug of Spring may land on me. As refreshing as serendipitous events can be, however, a godsend can take the form of the every day. Take nothing, not even something as tiny as a lipstick sample, for granted! Let's face it we need to impose a balance between begrudging reality and a bountiful world. Each of us can tip the scales by creating this balance.

But friendship is precious, not only in the shade but in the sunshine of life; & thanks to a benevolent arrangement of things, the greater part of life is sunshine. I will recur for proof to the days we have lately passed. On these indeed the sun shone brightly. -Thomas Jefferson, Letters of Thomas Jefferson

Practical tools can be powerful allies, as we strive to create a kinder, more balanced world. Lost arts such as scrapbooking, journaling, and letter writing are worth acquiring. Each is simple and so worth the investment of time. I regularly succumb to the temptation of zapping a text or e-mail, rather than take the time to really communicate. The world moves at light speed, and it is so much easier to move with it. Here's the thing. We create urgency way too much of the time. We have the power to reshuffle our priorities for the better.

I've written prior posts about letter writing. Specifically writing love letters has great power to heal the world. Here is a link to The More Love Letters, the story of how one young woman decided to change the world:

https://moreloveletters.squarespace.com/the-story/

Maybe you will be inspired to join the love letter movement by regularly contributing. Or perhaps you will start small by writing your thoughts, the contents of your heart. I can barely wait!

The point is, in large and small ways, get personal. A telephone call is better than a text. A written thank you is personal. An hour at tea is personal. A journal or scrapbook is personal and can be legacy. It is these niceties that uplift people ... ourselves and others. By all means, do the half-hour of meditation or workout (better yet, both) between scrambling from one place to another. Breathe. We all need to breathe. Then take time out of the rat maze. Get excited about the trip to the mailbox ... yours or someone else's. Scribble a heart-shaped love note, and slip it into the bag with the sandwich. You get the point. Make someone's day with a simple, personal gesture.

We can be so much more than the delighted recipients of godsends. We can gratefully acknowledge the godsends in our own lives. We can create them for others. A godsend is designed to always return to sender.

A Unique Perspective

Perspective

We all arrive at this destination, sooner or later. One morning the face in the mirror looks back, and we see an ancestor of the near or distant past staring back. A few years ago, my mirror gave me a jolt. "My God," I thought, "I look like Mother!" A half hour and two cups of coffee later, I got a grip. Just to be on the safe side, I donned a necklace of Navajo ghost beads. Made of dried juniper berries and trade beads, a ghost necklace, according to belief, keeps both dead and undead at bay. No need to worry if you lack ghost beads; you are, nevertheless, your unique self. Beyond self-acceptance is celebrating who you are and who you will be.

Is anything more dangerous or empowering than discovering and asserting our true selves? It opens the way to critical thought and creative authenticity. Make no mistake, however, it is uncomfortable, not to say, perilous to become more comfortable with changing the status quo than with maintaining it.  

Follow the path of the unsafe, independent thinker. Expose your ideas to the danger of controversy. Speak your mind and fear less the label of 'crackpot' than the stigma of conformity.
~Thomas J. Watson

Nor is change the exclusive purvey of the young! Elders can enter the dialogue. In fact we can and should lead, because we possess the wisdom of life experience and perspective unique to age. We cannot be silent in the face of stereotypes and the marginalization of elder Americans. To do so can only contribute to incremental poverty and decay. 

There is much work to be done to ensure a better world for elders and one we are proud to bequeath to younger generations. Step out of your comfort zone and be in the game!

 

Peace, Harmony and Strength

In honor of the coming lunar New Year in February, the Year of the Sheep promises to be good, quietly spectacular. Sheep are gentle, kind and sympathetic. The symbol of the green, wooden sheep is one of harmony, creativity and elegance. I celebrate the Chinese New Year, having been born in Asia, of parents who lived in China. A rabbit in the Chinese Zodiac, I have the good fortune of longevity on my side.

     In spite of the wisdom of age, however, bad habits return to haunt me. One of the most insidious is living the expectations of others; it defeats in subtle ways. Friends and family members, offer heaps of advice. I'll get mine, thank you, from my New Year fortune cookie. Otherwise, I'll do my own thinking.

Permanence, perseverance and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak. Thomas Carlyle

Slippery Slope 1 - Becoming Dependent

     My daughter recently recommended I take a baseline test of cognitive function. The first time she suggested this, I balked. The second time I remained silent, as did my physician. (I have an eidetic memory. Never easy going, I have been described as temperamental. Fair enough, but I have not slipped my tether to reality.) The same child also said, "We need to have a serious talk, and you may not like what we say." This, in honor of planning for my old age and the end of my life. I simply replied, "You may be uncomfortable, but I will not. The choices are mine to make." We are not our children's children, unless we allow ourselves to become too reliant upon them. There are increasingly more and better options for aging in place, and I intend to utilize them, as needed.

Slippery Slope Number 2 - Accepting Limitation

     People who should know better offer us limitations on what we can achieve. What is on your list for 2015? My list includes:

• Continuing Weight Loss
• Opening a Revenue Stream 
• Following Anti-Inflammatory Diet
• Improved Physical Fitness

     I hope to gain more energy, expand my social and volunteer lives ... all without breaking the bank. I know what you're thinking, "Good luck, lady, you are going to need it!" My mother would put it in terms of whether the dragons were with her. She had studied Mandarin and Chinese mythology in China. She was a living example of the singularly Chinese values of frugal living and hard work. At home she always had a basket of handwork to do, knitting, crochet, mending, embroidery. Rather than gossip, she created. If anything Mother was an overachiever. Who was I to question her belief?

Slippery Slope Number 3 - Relinquishing Power

     Here is a brief synopsis concerning Chinese dragons. Dragons are celestial and terrestrial spirit guides, if you will. They are the source of great wisdom and power. Did you, perhaps, watch the film, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, and wonder about the title? The hidden dragon is the Sixth Dragon. In Taoism, the Sixth Dragon holds the final key to health and wellbeing. It is meditation, development of the Sixth Sense.

Regardless of culture or spiritual belief, we all have personal power, including the power to create myth.  Speak your peace this year!

Fairness In LIHTC Elusive

No Mistake ... No Voice for Tenants

The holidays and their aftermath fading memories, my plan is to retire the blog, and focus on publishing a professional newsletter. I admit the speed of my momentum in 2015, has been disappointingly slow, so here's a post, maybe the last post, in "A Grateful Age." I am grateful, truly grateful for so much. I don't have it easier than most elder Americans. On the contrary. I can work from home, if I choose. I have a wonderful, loving family, caring friends and the companionship of a wonderful animal. I don't suffer, nor do I work with the suffering elderly, as do people I know.

     Colorado Gerontological Society volunteers and staff daily deal with the forgotten elderly ... impoverished, abandoned and in poor health. The most President Obama seems able to do is continue to decline to link Social Security Cost of Living Adjustments to the chained Cost of Living Index. From the get go, however, President Obama has shown himself willing to significantly help any population of Americans over elder Americans.

     Among the many things for which I am grateful is my apartment and my ability to stay in it. It is a tax credit set-aside, or LIHTC. It is also a modern high-rise building in an attractive development, populated (thank you, God) by people, most of whom work. What we have in common is our need for affordability in our housing. Tax credit housing sounded like a dream come true for so many of us. I treasure my space, privacy and the ability to continue living independently. I'm delighted not to live elbows-to-tits with exclusively elderly neighbors.

     All that said I should be grateful for a chance to show off the apartment to the building investors ... right? Nuh uh. I received the notice of a coming visit and tour by bank officials. This occurs annually and is the second of our annual housing inspections, one required by my lease. I declined to welcome the bank inspectors. I am a private person; my apartment is where I work, and it is my refuge. None of these Kahunas of banking would invite me to his or her home to have a look see.  I did put qualifiers on my refusal to comply, saying I might be more inclined, were the landlord and management company (one and the same) not mediocre and were this not a segregated development, one side for the younger, whiter, prosperous kiddos, the other, for ethnic minorities, the disabled and elderly. I have not received a reply. None is required, as I know the management wants to avoid my venting to the bankers.

Though this nation has proudly thought of itself as an ethnic melting pot, in things racial we have always been and continue to be, in too many ways, essentially a nation of cowards. -Eric Holder

    Tax credit housing throughout the country has been criticized for its role in furthering segregation, not just according to income level, which is bad enough, but, by ethnicity. At conception tax credit housing was put in the regulatory hands of the I.R.S. and the Department of Justice. Financing is multi-layered. For residents of the housing this translates to no voice or representation, in the face of violations of The Fair Housing Act. HUD is dismally poor at enforcement and public housing authorities do not soil their hands with meaningful advocacy. Sure, a PHA will send someone to show tenants how to form a resident council, but, a resident council without power, backing and a voice is as effectual as a bridge club for resolving housing issues.

   

Okay that's it for the rant. Baby, it's cold outside in Denver today. My dog, Lolo, likes "Alaska State Troopers" on Justice Television, plus it's almost tea time. You bet I'm grateful! 

Letters From The Heart

Letter writing is becoming a lost art, one worth reviving. It is a soothing process and a way to soothe hurt. We've talked about reconciliation recently, and I would be the first to acknowledge how daunting it is to reconcile with people, face to face. Sometimes the words just won't come in conversation. The timing is not right. There is little privacy to say what needs to be said. The words will not come, or they come in a rush, all jumbled or not just right. " Stand up straight," Mother would say. Speak clearly, no stammering, no muttering, no hesitation!" It's a tall order, especially in an emotionally charged situation.

There is tremendous healing power in letter writing, both for the writer and for the reader.  For the reader, much like a cherished book, a heartwarming letter or card can be a treasure, kept and reread. Have you encountered someone in your life, who, minus, face-to-face inhibition, writes vicious, anonymous notes or letters? It is abuse of a powerful medium; a medium never to underestimate. Personally I do not have a good e-mail persona. My e-mails come across as clipped and too strongly worded. Texts really don't get it, either. In fact texting is becoming increasingly less popular, according to recent statistical studies.

If, like me, you are better off thinking and organizing your thoughts, before speaking, letter writing may be the best way to speak from the heart. Finding or creating just the right card can add creativity to the process. Imagery brings personality to an ordinary letter. The wording does not have to be fancy, nor does the handwriting. I once asked a friend what to write to my former voice teacher, who had been a wonderful influence in my life. My friend suggested three words, I love you.

The words, I am sorry, work well, too. Reconciling family differences can be more difficult than negotiating a treaty with a foreign government. Here are a few rules to consider. First take accountability for your part in a problem or impasse. Don't rehash how hurt or angry you were, or how wrongly you were treated.  Understand that some situations call for more than diplomacy. Some situations call for "a hero," in the words of Dr. Phil. To me, that is someone who does not focus on being right or wrong. Rather it is the person who can see past "sides," who can apologize or acknowledge the hurt and anger of another person or other people. Pen in hand, offer peace, not blame; no-one will be the worse for it.

If you wonder what you can possibly contribute to love and healing in a larger context, write to a perfect stranger. A young New Yorker, Hanna Brencher started an International movement, based on writing "love letters." The back story of how Hanna started the movement is on her website. Living alone in the City, a new college graduate, she found herself isolated and depressed.
https://moreloveletters.squarespace.com

...eventually (my) thoughts morphed into letters and I found myself myself ripping the letters out and leaving them all over New York City for people to find. I left them everywhere: Coffee shops. Libraries. Coat pockets in department stores. I liked to imagine who might find those letters.

Somehow that idea took on a life of its own after I blogged about it. My inbox was filled with the most heartbreaking stories I’ve ever encountered after I published a simple question on my blog: Do you need someone to write you a love letter today? Just ask. -Hanna Brencher

Become a letter writer. It requires slowing down a little, putting a bit more creativity and care into communicating. Become one of Hanna's letter writers. Either or both, will do your heart good.

Global, Permanent War?

On approaching the Big 75, I cannot say it is something I achieved. It happens. Because I have lived my life as a citizen of the United States, I know how fortunate I have been. I am lucky never to have been detained, questioned, arrested or tried anywhere outside of this country. Growing up as a U.S. career military officer's daughter, I was a privileged child. Granted, family life in the military is never simple, nor free from pitfalls. All else aside, even in harm's way, I was part of a peculiarly consistent, if regimented, life.

I was raised to be absolutely loyal to my Country, have always been proud of my Country. Once Russia launched Sputnik; the National Defense Education Act was signed into law. A Foreign Language major, I was eligible to compete for educational funding through the Act. Once again my country gave me an invaluable gift.  In what seemed months, rather than years, however, I was teaching high school students, who went off to war. The death toll prompted me to join in the protest movement early. The televised horrors of war crept into our homes and lives relentlessly. In our minds it was a vile, dirty, business. A family of  right wing Texans, moved in next door, the family cadillac, plastered with American flags and stickers. Put off by the flag-waving neighbors, I had only begun to recognize the implications of turning a blind eye to injustice at home and abroad.

Today I watched in renewed horror, as we played  a documentary film, "Dirty Wars." I am a year late in viewing the film, and in reading the book by Jeremy Scahill, which preceded the documentary. Both are extremely revealing,  even if you believe you have been reasonably well informed. First images of a Yemeni family and friends, slaughtered, right down to pregnant women and infants, assault the senses. Next is the realization that we are not at war with Yemen. We massacred 46 civilian family and friends for gathering to celebrate a wedding. If all this were not enough, we see a Yemeni journalist detained upon the direct orders of President Obama. (This, rather than permit him to disclose the details of the botched operation in his country.) It gets worse.

http://dirtywars.org/the-film

Something horrifying has emerged in the US permanent war: death and assassinations for which there is no due process nor accountability, and all too often no "within the margin of error" justification except that the government and military are able to get away with their actions. There are no public checks and balances. Whistleblowers are prosecuted and jailed at a faster rate under the Obama administrations than under the George W. Bush administrations. ~Mark Karlin, "Truthout"

What have we been telling ourselves to justify unbridled presidential powers and the emergence of JSOC, the Joint Special Operations Command? The implications of JSOC's powers and its actions, combined with those of President Obama and the CIA, are staggering. The War on Terror is global and ongoing. The U. S. is engaging in covert operations whenever and wherever. Whether you believe it or not, we have entered an era of zero accountability to the People of the United States, and it is not merely driven by the ownership of the government by the wealthy. 

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/mar/31/dirty-wars-terrorism-victims