I’m scared. Again. Still. I’m tempted to just hide out here in comfort with the wood stove, the shows to binge-watch, my job, my music. But I have to be proactive, and I invite you to join me.
Hello from North Haven! Somehow it’s been a REALLY long time since I last wrote. Let’s see…Penrose turned 4, my entire house got norovirus just in time for opening night of my spring show, and both of our apple trees are in bloom for the first time ever! I want to wrap up the review […]
As always, reading from the Union Haggadahs passed down to me from my parents, via my maternal grandfather, I felt the connection not just to my family, but to my Ashkenazi ancestors and the whole Jewish faith and culture. I felt that connection radiate out through my friends and neighbors on North Haven, my adopted home.
Once the ballot is marked, the clock-wise circumnavigation of the room continues. The poll warden pauses her knitting to ceremoniously slide open the giant, locked, wooden ballot box and slide it shut again.
Planet Earth is a difficult place to be right now. Our place names – Charlottesville, Mumbai, Mexico City, Houston, Barbuda, Yemen, Syria, Mosul – conjure up devastation, whether human-made or nature’s wrath, and there’s not an end in sight. We seem ever more fragmented into microscopic factions. Maybe that’s why extraterrestrial goings-on are all the more appealing.
Finally, I forgot to be afraid. My body in the water needed my attention as seaweed tugged at my limbs and salt sprayed my eyes. When we made it back to the beach, I was tired and chilled, too tired to be afraid anymore.
For some of my students, a lot of the information and terminology they shared about the gender and sexuality spectra was brand new and even uncomfortable, but when we were all on the floor with a rainbow of markers making posters for the table at Belfast Pride, the fun outweighed the discomfort.
I’m caucasian and Jewish. My ancestors were making a go of it in the Pale of Settlement when the Civil War was raging over here. But I can imagine what seeing images of the Confederacy embraced and exalted by individuals and communities might feel like to someone who does have enslavement in their family history.
Reports of White House Spokesman Sean Spicer’s jaw-gapingly inappropriate comments comparing atrocities were bringing back that gasping, nauseous post-election feeling that had been starting to fade. But the peepers washed it away, leaving just a trace of discomfort, like the last trace of snow scribbled in the margins of the field.
While it would have been easier to leave Pen with a babysitter (heads up, North Haven teens – you would make a killing setting up some sort of play time during town meeting), I wanted her to see the nitty gritty work that makes a town function.