So, I've run into this opportunity at my child's school to become involved in a community theatre group
They donate an obscene amount of money to the Ann Arbor Public Schools and the Rec and Ed foundation. It's a good cause, good people, you only have to pay $35 a school year to participate.
For those of my readers who are not aware, I was active in the theater as a child. I was also active in the theater as a young woman in high school, I was involved in a creative and performing arts program through high school, (save the last semester.)
I have been involved in workshops with the Royal Shakespeare Company, ran a war protest reading of Lysistrata, (which was, by the way an utter failure, but still fun). I have sang since I was 6 where I either performed Blues with my Father, Church Hymns (back when I was 6), I have been and intend to continue to be involved in an Acoustic rock band, "Tommy's Little Sister" (yes that IS me on the Vocals TYVM.)
So, I'm somewhat talented, I have the want to help others... Especially when the others could very well be my own children.
Can someone explain to the class why in the heck I'm not wanting to do this?
Anyone?
Show of hands?
No, me either.
But I don't.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Sept. 11, 2011
I took a long look at my Facebook wall today, expecting tearful recounts, silent reflection. I found some of the above, but saw a lot of same old same old. Just another day now. At the same time, the souls of those who passed, maybe that's all they would have wanted? Just a quiet nod at the beginning of a day. Then a family, presumably yours or mine, climbing up a hill to have a picnic; reveling in life and the living of it.
For 10 years now, we've all been waiting for the world to return to normal. To not forget, per se, but to allow our wounds to heal and to transcend beyond this attack on American soil.
For 10 years now, I've said relatively nothing about my feelings on the matter, waiting for the right time to express, and express in a proper way.
And over the past few days I've been seeing this post on most social networks, post an American flag to prove that you did not forget.
I posted a picture of my daughter. WHY?
The day of the attacks for us, was like any other. My dear daughter almost 2 and I rose out of bed in Belleville Michigan, drove her father Bill to work, then came back home to watch TV until my next class, Pre-Calc. I'm not much of a mathematician but I did enjoy my Pre Calc course. The instructor was a real wonder and had a way of making alphabet soup make sense to even the densest individuals. Like me!
So, as we were watching TV, you would have thought I would have heard something. Lily and I watched PBS in the morning, so we had no idea what was going on.
Later, I popped a cassette into the car's cassette player, so to me, for a long time, September 11, 2001 was just another day.
I dropped Lily off at the FEB (Family Education Building, day care), then proceeded to class.
Then we got to Pre-Calc. Us students gathered, some wondered if there would be class today.
And I asked "why wouldn't there be?"
About 10 students asked in unison if I had been living under a rock. I informed them, "Well, yes I guess I have been."
And they told me, with a 19 year old's enthusiasm, of the attacks.
And I thought to myself of a few years previous, hearing about the bomb in the parking shelter underneath the WTC, and how although there was an explosion, nothing bad happened.
In his enthusiasm, the 19 year old didn't tell me about the deaths. I just assumed it was a grand mistake, just as the other attack was until our instructor entered the room.
She looked just awful. Tears running down her face. She brought the class to order.
She explained, VERY slowly, and while taking a lot of deep breaths, that she and her husband had known a lot of people at the Pentagon, and that she was concerned for their safety.
And although I do not really remember her name anymore, I do remember the pain etched on her face. The Fear, the LOSS.
And suddenly all of it became a little too real.
I felt awful for her. "If you need to compose yourself," I said, "I think everyone here would agree that we aren't going to hold it against you if you end class."
She said "NO. To my friends this was just another day at work, we need to go on as nothing has happened. Mourning can happen later, but for the dead we need to prove that we are still alive." (now this was 10 years ago, so I'm not sure the words were correct but this was the sentiment.)
And she took a deep breath and taught class. But she ended it a half an hour early.
I went to retrieve my daughter, I asked the workers if they had heard. Some had, some hadn't. I asked if I could use their telephone, (I did not have my own cell phone at this point) And I called the Brown's, (my in laws, then) who of course had been glued to their TV set, watching.
I also called Bill. He said yes, he had heard, but had also just assumed I had, too.
I remember the drive home vividly, but I don't really remember where I was driving to.
As I drove down Clark, then up Hogback to leave, I remember seeing police cars in the drive way at the Sheriffs department, blocking off the driveway.
Later, after Bill had returned home, we went to his parents house where we found his sister, Susie and her boyfriend Alex. We shot the shit as we always had. Alex talked about some new geeky thing he had gotten, and we all reveled in the geekiness between shots of the towers falling. Bill's Dad watched again and again, and every time he watched, he got a bit more angry and a bit more sad.
Even Lily, at her 23 months, seemed to understand the gravity of it.
Mr. Brown and I never saw eye to eye on politics, but that day we both felt the same thing, This NEEDS to be retaliated for, but who should be attacked.
I'm not one for revenge, really. Just, was over come with the rage of something happening on the soil of this country.
I remembered as a child watching the Iraq war on the television, and being afraid anytime a scud missile was deployed, and my Father quietly reassuring me from his white arm chair that everything would be all right; that no harm would ever come to me as long as I was on US soil.
"We are so far away, Dee Dee, that they can't touch us here. So dry your tears, and try to go to sleep, honey."
and now the thing that I had based my 20 years on, that as long as I was here, I would be safe... Was no longer true. Everywhere I looked I saw tired and shocked police officers, people scrambling.
And then Alex said something that I think was the most appropriate thing he could have said.
"With all of this going on, no matter how our relationships turn out and no matter what happens, we are tied together by the acts tonight. Even 10 or 15 years from now, we may not remember what we were wearing or what we were doing, but we will remember who we kept the company of."
Then he went back to whatever it was he was actually doing.
The next day, there was no school. It was my "Writing for digital media" class, which by far was my favorite. I thought the instructor was handsome and easy to listen to, and the content of the course was intriguing. (he later became my boss at the newspaper)
The next day was Renaissance faire. I was working as a manager at the Turtle Races, although the grounds were nearly empty, it was such a comfort to see those faces. Angie Hill and her daughters, my brother, Jason Roland and his then wife, Bill, Lyn, Dave... All of my workers at the faire. There was the broad sense of unity. I miss the unity.
And Angie, I think it was anyhow, handed out ribbons, red, white and blue, saying that this was for the Ambassador of Oosa, (USA) and to her recovery.
In the days following, I received a first hand account of the attack from a friend of my Brother's. How awful the whole thing had been. I could feel myself in the stifling blue smoke, feel my face pressed against the windows.
The next year, Bill and I split. Alex and Susie were long gone, and the whole thing became a snapshot in my history.
But my first thought of that day, after I had found out what had happened, was "Is Lily safe? What kind of world did I bring her into?"
A few years later on Sept. 11
"What kind of Mom am I? Why did I leave her behind the next year to her Father?"
And now,
"Yes, the whole ordeal was awful, but a piece of our history I cannot even imagine living without. How it has shaped us?"
How did we get to this current Political environment; the dog and pony show this whole government has turned into a three ring circus. One party says one thing so the other party is obligated to say another completely opposite thing, just to get attention. Dressing up like buffoons. Pointing fingers and saying "He's destroying America, she's destroying America." Guess what folks. It takes two to tango. This constant arguing is destroying what we worked so hard to build. You may not agree, you'll NEVER agree, that's not good for ratings, but can you at least ATTEMPT to compromise for the good of the rest of us?
There is no such thing as intelligent discourse about politics anymore, it's all emotion, hideous, filthy emotion: Like jealousy, like revenge, like greed.
You don't have to agree with me. No one has to. I'm not going to hold a gun to anyone's head... However, I like to think at least some folks agree with me here.
But now I understand just how much I have grown in 10 years, and this day, as it has been since 2001 will be a bookmark; a constant reminder to quietly reflect on how we have grown as a nation, and how I have grown as a person.
For 10 years now, we've all been waiting for the world to return to normal. To not forget, per se, but to allow our wounds to heal and to transcend beyond this attack on American soil.
For 10 years now, I've said relatively nothing about my feelings on the matter, waiting for the right time to express, and express in a proper way.
And over the past few days I've been seeing this post on most social networks, post an American flag to prove that you did not forget.
I posted a picture of my daughter. WHY?
The day of the attacks for us, was like any other. My dear daughter almost 2 and I rose out of bed in Belleville Michigan, drove her father Bill to work, then came back home to watch TV until my next class, Pre-Calc. I'm not much of a mathematician but I did enjoy my Pre Calc course. The instructor was a real wonder and had a way of making alphabet soup make sense to even the densest individuals. Like me!
So, as we were watching TV, you would have thought I would have heard something. Lily and I watched PBS in the morning, so we had no idea what was going on.
Later, I popped a cassette into the car's cassette player, so to me, for a long time, September 11, 2001 was just another day.
I dropped Lily off at the FEB (Family Education Building, day care), then proceeded to class.
Then we got to Pre-Calc. Us students gathered, some wondered if there would be class today.
And I asked "why wouldn't there be?"
About 10 students asked in unison if I had been living under a rock. I informed them, "Well, yes I guess I have been."
And they told me, with a 19 year old's enthusiasm, of the attacks.
And I thought to myself of a few years previous, hearing about the bomb in the parking shelter underneath the WTC, and how although there was an explosion, nothing bad happened.
In his enthusiasm, the 19 year old didn't tell me about the deaths. I just assumed it was a grand mistake, just as the other attack was until our instructor entered the room.
She looked just awful. Tears running down her face. She brought the class to order.
She explained, VERY slowly, and while taking a lot of deep breaths, that she and her husband had known a lot of people at the Pentagon, and that she was concerned for their safety.
And although I do not really remember her name anymore, I do remember the pain etched on her face. The Fear, the LOSS.
And suddenly all of it became a little too real.
I felt awful for her. "If you need to compose yourself," I said, "I think everyone here would agree that we aren't going to hold it against you if you end class."
She said "NO. To my friends this was just another day at work, we need to go on as nothing has happened. Mourning can happen later, but for the dead we need to prove that we are still alive." (now this was 10 years ago, so I'm not sure the words were correct but this was the sentiment.)
And she took a deep breath and taught class. But she ended it a half an hour early.
I went to retrieve my daughter, I asked the workers if they had heard. Some had, some hadn't. I asked if I could use their telephone, (I did not have my own cell phone at this point) And I called the Brown's, (my in laws, then) who of course had been glued to their TV set, watching.
I also called Bill. He said yes, he had heard, but had also just assumed I had, too.
I remember the drive home vividly, but I don't really remember where I was driving to.
As I drove down Clark, then up Hogback to leave, I remember seeing police cars in the drive way at the Sheriffs department, blocking off the driveway.
Later, after Bill had returned home, we went to his parents house where we found his sister, Susie and her boyfriend Alex. We shot the shit as we always had. Alex talked about some new geeky thing he had gotten, and we all reveled in the geekiness between shots of the towers falling. Bill's Dad watched again and again, and every time he watched, he got a bit more angry and a bit more sad.
Even Lily, at her 23 months, seemed to understand the gravity of it.
Mr. Brown and I never saw eye to eye on politics, but that day we both felt the same thing, This NEEDS to be retaliated for, but who should be attacked.
I'm not one for revenge, really. Just, was over come with the rage of something happening on the soil of this country.
I remembered as a child watching the Iraq war on the television, and being afraid anytime a scud missile was deployed, and my Father quietly reassuring me from his white arm chair that everything would be all right; that no harm would ever come to me as long as I was on US soil.
"We are so far away, Dee Dee, that they can't touch us here. So dry your tears, and try to go to sleep, honey."
and now the thing that I had based my 20 years on, that as long as I was here, I would be safe... Was no longer true. Everywhere I looked I saw tired and shocked police officers, people scrambling.
And then Alex said something that I think was the most appropriate thing he could have said.
"With all of this going on, no matter how our relationships turn out and no matter what happens, we are tied together by the acts tonight. Even 10 or 15 years from now, we may not remember what we were wearing or what we were doing, but we will remember who we kept the company of."
Then he went back to whatever it was he was actually doing.
The next day, there was no school. It was my "Writing for digital media" class, which by far was my favorite. I thought the instructor was handsome and easy to listen to, and the content of the course was intriguing. (he later became my boss at the newspaper)
The next day was Renaissance faire. I was working as a manager at the Turtle Races, although the grounds were nearly empty, it was such a comfort to see those faces. Angie Hill and her daughters, my brother, Jason Roland and his then wife, Bill, Lyn, Dave... All of my workers at the faire. There was the broad sense of unity. I miss the unity.
And Angie, I think it was anyhow, handed out ribbons, red, white and blue, saying that this was for the Ambassador of Oosa, (USA) and to her recovery.
In the days following, I received a first hand account of the attack from a friend of my Brother's. How awful the whole thing had been. I could feel myself in the stifling blue smoke, feel my face pressed against the windows.
The next year, Bill and I split. Alex and Susie were long gone, and the whole thing became a snapshot in my history.
But my first thought of that day, after I had found out what had happened, was "Is Lily safe? What kind of world did I bring her into?"
A few years later on Sept. 11
"What kind of Mom am I? Why did I leave her behind the next year to her Father?"
And now,
"Yes, the whole ordeal was awful, but a piece of our history I cannot even imagine living without. How it has shaped us?"
How did we get to this current Political environment; the dog and pony show this whole government has turned into a three ring circus. One party says one thing so the other party is obligated to say another completely opposite thing, just to get attention. Dressing up like buffoons. Pointing fingers and saying "He's destroying America, she's destroying America." Guess what folks. It takes two to tango. This constant arguing is destroying what we worked so hard to build. You may not agree, you'll NEVER agree, that's not good for ratings, but can you at least ATTEMPT to compromise for the good of the rest of us?
There is no such thing as intelligent discourse about politics anymore, it's all emotion, hideous, filthy emotion: Like jealousy, like revenge, like greed.
You don't have to agree with me. No one has to. I'm not going to hold a gun to anyone's head... However, I like to think at least some folks agree with me here.
But now I understand just how much I have grown in 10 years, and this day, as it has been since 2001 will be a bookmark; a constant reminder to quietly reflect on how we have grown as a nation, and how I have grown as a person.
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