Author Archive
I just finished writing a review for Ijeoma Oluo’s “So You Want to Talk About Race.” Here it is.
Having read a plethora of books as a member of our “BLM Ally” group I didn’t expect another one could add much. But I was wrong. It was probably the chapters organization that made the difference, but I left it with my heart hurting and my mind brimming. And there were the specific lists – almost “to-do” — that helped as we search for actions we can take while we are confined by COVID-19 restrictions. No matter what reading you have already worked through you’ll find help presented here in an attractive writing style.
So what does that have to do with dinosaurs? Me — and my career.
In the process of writing — and editing a zillion times — My Father’s House, I have come to appreciate that I did lead a privileged life. I confess, I didn’t know it. I was too busy living it. I do remember being upset in High School when I read about Senator Bilbo, though, described in Wikipedia as “a filibusterer whose name was synonymous with white supremacy.” I wish I had saved the essay I wrote.
But that doesn’t make me a dinosaur. It’s my career that did that. I spent years teaching developmental and personality psychology. Now I’d have to rewrite the syllabus, realizing that it was all about white, probably Northern European folks. And the psychology of women? Not only did it not even include women of the top 1%, it also wasn’t about women of any color other than pale white.
Okay, that’s all you get. I’ll save the rest for later. But I hope you get the gist.
No, I don’t feel guilty. Just more aware and motivated.
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My niece and I were remembering my father’s house last evening when she recalled a saying that hung on the wall in the foyer. I don’t remember it on the wall, but I do remember the saying — so characteristic of my mother and so appropriate for these times.
There’s so much bad in the best of us
And so much good in the worst of us
That it ill behooves any of us
To talk about the rest of us.
The thought for the day
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How exciting is that! First of all, what a blessing to have lived in the same house from the time I was born until I left for college, graduate school, and early career. Only marriage made the break official. And now, having published “My Father’s House,” I’ve been in contact with the current owners. The photos they’ve provided show me the place is even more beautiful in its modern version. I’m thrilled.
Maybe you’d like to take another look at it on the cover of the book
.
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If you have finished reading “My Father’s House” and didn’t hate it, would you be willing to give me some feedback? Or even post it on amazon.com? I’d love to know what you think. Thanks, Mona
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This morning I woke up in the same bed I’ve enjoyed for many years, under covers of just the right weight and temperature. I expect to return to the same comfortable bed tonight. I did the lying down exercises I had been taught back in 2015 after my accident — physical therapy lessons, like all other treatments after the crash, covered by insurance. I lolled in bed for a while playing some games on my cell phone and checking emails, knowing I didn’t have to worry about the battery running low, because I’d be plugging it in as soon as I rolled out of bed, into an outlet that I was sure would provide the juice to recharge.
Once I was up I did more of my exercises accompanied by the local TV station emanating from an old but perfectly fine set nestled in my bedroom cabinet where other shelves and drawers house my supply of clothes from which I would chose todays outfit. (comfortable but not fancy – still pretty much confined to my sunny senior apartment, protected not only from the weather, but – more important – from the virus.)
Eventually I turned on my shower, confident that nice warm water would emerge from the shower head, allowing me to enjoy soap that I have in sufficient supply, aided by a washcloth and later a drying towel which I can keep clean in the washing machine in the laundry room.
And then breakfast, an adequate supply of nuts and fruit and eggs kept fresh in the refrigerator next to the stove on which I was confident I could cook my egg because the burners would turn on as soon as I dialed the appropriate knob.
Finally to my computer which usually responds to my command, like the other appliances that have enjoyed the adequate supply of electrical power.
Pretty standard stuff, unless you do – as I do every morning – think of the people who don’t have these things. No guaranteed source of power, maybe because no guaranteed place to sleep and eat, or maybe because where they live power is sporadic. Maybe no assured fresh food or warm water – even clean, pure cold water – ready on call. No insurance available to keep healthy teeth and bodies. So many people who don’t have these things I take for granted every day. Yes, I am filled with gratitude – and also pain for all those who suffer.
The other side of gratitude is awareness. Without both, life would be pretty empty, I think.
Just my ruminations on living another normal day – normal for us fortunate ones.
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I wish this photo had been available to me when I inserted the Torsas church into my book.
Thanks to James Carros, a Bristol, Connecticut person whose family, like mine, hails from Torsas. It’s a much better photo of the church than the one I found for
e.”
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Do I have beautiful friends, or what? Amy Huie-Li let me know she bought “My Father’s House.”
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Fear, ranting, anger, shooting, and false promises won’t do it. Facts are facts. Maybe those things feel good to some folks, but if it’s order you’re after, try something that will work. Respect, creative and encouraging education, equality of opportunity, removal of unjustly restrictive laws and regulations will produce the results you’re after.
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After all the lead-up and outtakes and delays, it is finally here. Please take a look at it and sample the copy of
.
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I’ve been at it since well before 2015, with the help of some of you. And now the proof is here. In fact, I just finished reading it one last time (I hope) for corrections to be made before it goes to print. Just for evidence, here are a couple of photos of receiving it during the pandemic, and a quick cheat of a photo. without the mask.
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