DUVALIER IS BACK IN HAITI--ALIVE!

Never in my life did I ever think I would write those words.  NEVER!  The fact that this is real has rocked my world, and I am angry beyond belief.

I've seen Duvalier's work first hand, and I despise that monster! 

I remember his soldiers driving their tanks through my neighborhood.  I remember them shooting randomly at people and killing to subdue through fear.

I remember feeling that fear.

It's a heat that rushes through your body and stings you as though you are prey to a thousand bees. It's the sight of black smoke on the horizon as new fires get closer and closer.

It's the kind of fear that makes you aware of your mortality before you're old enough to know how to spell your name.

That fear is dead silence punctuated by whizzing bullets and exploding bombs.  It sounds like millions of people hiding, trying not to move a muscle, hoping the Macoute will pass their door.

A friend texted me tonight, "Baby Doc is back in Haiti." 

I thought it was some type of cruel joke until I read about it in several online newspapers.

The man who killed my people, emptied Haiti's treasury, and had been living a free man in France despite his crimes against the Haitian people....That man walked into Port-au-Prince, was not jailed, and is sleeping comfortably.

Has Haiti deteriorated so much that Duvalier could return in this way?

Are we that defeated? 

Something died in me with this news.  Hope.  It was all I've had for my country since leaving 24 years ago.  It is all most Haitians had been left with.

'Baby Doc' Duvalier back in Haiti

Bono and Church

So, I went to my husband's church this morning on the Upper West Side.  I'm Catholic and he's Protestant, so we make a point to go to each other's church.

I haven't been there in some time, but I wasn't the only sometimes attendee to show up today.  Bono (of U2) was there!  I already knew that he attends the church when he's in town, but that was the first time I've seen him there. 

I must admit, I was a little impressed for a second.  Then I thought...the Lord is the rock star of this house!  ;-)

 

Free Write

I haven't blogged in a a while!  I was on a roll there, and all of a sudden...nothing!

Well, I've actually written a few unfinished pieces, but I don't think I'll publish those.   I think I'm going through some sort of writer's block or something.

The irony is that I'm teaching a creative writing course this year.  I spend every Monday through Friday, from 9am to 3:30pm, trying to motivate my students and get them to write.  Sometimes I give them topics.  Other times I just want them to put something on paper.

"Just free write," I tell them.  If you start, the story will come.

So, it is with that same idea in mind, that I started this blog.  If I start, maybe an idea will come.

As I write, I'm beginning to think perhaps the story I want to share with you today is about my students.  They are such dynamic and precocious individuals.  Freshly minted teenagers with all the angst, insecurities, passions, and hopes that their age brings.  I see my younger self in them sometimes.

What did my teachers think of me when I was their age? I wonder. 

The habitually tardy ones always get a side "stank" eye from me, but I'd rather them show up.  You learn nothing from avoiding Ms. Rho.  Face the music and move on!

If I had a dollar for every bad excuse I hear...Well, you know how the old saying goes.  It's almost as if they think they are saying something profound and unheard of.  One student told me last week, "I didn't know I didn't have a printer!"  When I replied, "You didn't know this over a week ago when I gave you the assignment?" her eyes went up, searching for an answer but drawing a blank. 

She got the side eye!

As with every year, I aim to bring the shy ones out of their shells.  I was once that person too, but taking the leap out and letting the world know "I am here, and I'm fabulous!" is one of the best decisions I've ever made.  Anyone who doesn't like it can go sit somewhere.

Still, I am amazed at how strong my little ones are--even if they don't know it.  Many are dealing with issues I think would cripple me--and I'm twice their age!  I am particularly in awe of the young women who have lost their mothers but continue to press on.  I am in absolute awe.  I pray they don't lose their way.

So, it is with this I end this long awaited entry...It's Friday.  I stayed at work two and a half hours longer than I am required to.  I am tired and sleepy.  Yet, I am thinking of my students.  Perhaps I should share this free write with them on Monday.  Perhaps not. 

Forest Hills: No Coloreds Allowed?

By no means do I think Forest Hills is the most racist place in Queens--or New York for that matter.

However, since I work there and take public transportation, I have the misfortune of dealing with a lot of stupid people in that area.

Today is just one example.  I had to take the bus but made a quick run to a hardware store that is right next to the stop.  I noticed three women were waiting for the bus. 

After handling my business, I walked over and sat on the bench.  An older woman was at the other end, and the other two ladies were standing up. 

I hadn't been on the bench for more than five seconds when one of the standing women went after her purse like it had caught fire! 

The bag was on the seat, closer to the older woman than to me, so I had assumed it belonged to the old lady.  Clearly, I was mistaken.

So, I looked at that woman dead in her eyes and gave her a blank expression.  Still agitated, she cradled the purse as though it held the meaning of life. 


I'm not sure if she felt exposed by her own abrupt reaction or the knowing look in my eyes.  "Oh.  I just wanted to make space," she said.


I keep looking.  Silent.


"I figure someone might want to sit there."


I respond: "Oh? Really?"


Who did she need to make space for?  Why wasn't she concerned about her bag prior to my sitting down?  Why did she retrieve that bag fast enough to get whiplash?  The older white lady who shared her skin tone was no threat but the young black female was?


I don't even have enough fingers for the ridiculous behavior I've encountered in Forest Freakin Hills!  The last event before this was the woman who reacted as though she was about to get hit by a bus as I passed her on the sidewalk a few days ago.

What had her eyes bulging and her chest thumping?  My hair was in an Afro.

How can I be certain of this?  As her face became all contorted, her shocked eyes were burning holes through my hair!

I made sure to smile at her, hoping she would be more offended. 

Believe it or not, I actually thought about living in that city for a little bit.  I was told the pre-war buildings were bigger and cheaper than my current apartment.

I changed my mind when I couldn't get a cab in the neighborhood.  In the morning, there are cabbies of color galore.  i don't know where they were one afternoon, last May.  I spent 45 minutes trying to hail on-duty and empty cabs to take me to the airport.  Not one bit.  Finally, I was picked up by someone I knew who just happened to be in the area.  Had he not been there, I would've missed my flight to my brother's graduation.

The clincher here is that Queens is the most diverse county in the whole entire United States.  That's a huge part of why I moved here.  I might as well have stayed in the south.

Beauty is Not a Walking Bag of Bones

I find it either pitiful or sad how obsessed some people are with being a bag of bones!  Maybe it's a little bit of both. 

I support health consciousness, but what some people consider conscious may actually be an obsession.

If you're watching every single calorie, are depriving yourself of nourishment, and are overly preoccupied with food, you probably have an eating disorder.  That is sad.  Not knowing it is even sadder.

Over a billion people on this planet live on less than $1.25.  These people struggle to eat and meet their basic needs. 

Knowing this makes me ask "What the hell is going on here?"  It's pitiful that while some people are struggling to survive, the people who can't even tell the difference between needs and wants are acting like food is the enemy.

Is a lot of the bobble head obsession derived from some false perception of beauty?  Do people starve themselves because they think that somehow being skinnier is going to make them more beautiful?

I'm conflicted because one part of me thinks: You can loose or gain weight, but ugly is forever.

The other part of me wants to be more understanding.

Perhaps this whole eating disorder thing is not for me to understand.  I just can't relate.

We were given a book in my middle school sex education class that showed how people have different body types.  Some are more athletic (me!), others are more thin, some are more stocky (big-boned), etc.  There was also a section that showed the development of the body from childhood through adulthood.  I remember thinking "I can't wait get to the point where my body 'curves' out."

I used to play sports and loved to run.  Needless to say, there was no curving out for me.  When I developed asthma and became less active, I finally got my little lovehandles that I wanted.

Unfortunately, I'm at the point that I actually have to work out to improve my long-term health.  I realize I've dreaded exercise because it won't take long for me to lose the little pooch that's giving me my slight figure 8.


Still, no matter how my body looks, I'll love it.

Ultimately, I believe God created me and he makes no mistakes.  Perhaps this is the reason I can't relate to those who desire the emmeciated look.  I wonder, "What could possibly be so wrong that you would brutalize your body?"