All It Takes Is A Little Love

My grandfather had a repertoire of stories from his childhood that were always entertaining. He particularly spoke of growing up with his grandmother who took care of him after his own mother died in childbirth. His tales of life in rural Virginia at the end of the nineteenth century provided a view into both his past and his personality which was always a bit mischievous. 

On one occasion his grandmother was hosting a little party for some of her lady friends. She instructed young Bill, my grandfather, to play outside and stay out of trouble while she entertained. Because he was not the least bit interested in small talk with a bunch of older women, he was happy to be outdoors exploring. That’s when he noticed an old rotting log lying in such a way as to tempt him. He would later insist that he only intended to provide his grandmother with firewood, but what he really enjoyed was the idea of breaking the gigantic log apart.

Without thinking about any unintended consequences he began beating on the rotten wood with a large tree branch that he found lying on the ground nearby. It was fun to watch the chips of wood fly into the air as the weak spots on the log gave way to his force. His success in creating a crack compelled him to keep going with his task. Soon enough the massive trunk blew wide open and freed a nest of bees that had been creating a home for themselves inside. 

The insects swarmed around Bill and began stinging him on every part of his body. Not knowing what to do he ran for a nearby pond shedding his clothing as he raced toward the place that he hoped would provide him with relief from the relentless and angry bees. By the time he reached the water he was buck naked but he didn’t care because once he dove into the water the bees flew away. 

The ladies had convened outside after hearing all of the hollering and commotion. They were curious about what had happened to the boy. When he rose from the water in his birthday suit they all gasped and began making excuses to go home. Meanwhile Bill’s grandmother stood with her hands firmly planted on her hips and an expression on her face that told him that he was in big trouble. She wanted to know why he had done such a stupid thing without even thinking about what may happen. She wanted to know why he had destroyed the peace and joy of her party. 

I have been thinking about my grandfather’s story ever since I heard about Trump’s decision to bomb Iran without conferring with Congress or even considering what may result from his unilateral decision. Somehow I feel that he has created the possibility of horrific consequences resulting from his rashness. Instead of bringing peace to the world as he claims, it feels more like he has endangered all of us in this nation for reasons that need not have happened. Now we are all standing wet and naked wondering what the Iranians will do in response to his ill considered actions. 

It is difficult to imagine that any country in the world would not think that what Trump has done to Iran was a declaration of war. Which nation would not be inclined to fight back after such an incident? It seems that Trump has released a dangerous nest of trouble when he should have thought a bit more before taking it on himself to put us all in danger. Surely he now understands how heightened the possibility of terrorism has become when even his own Department of Homeland Security has declared the danger to be real. 

Right now anyone who is worried has cause. The Department of Homeland Security is on the verge of running out of funding because of the ridiculous immigration raids and quotas that they have funded. Hurricane season is here and there are strong hints that any place being hit may not receive the usual assistance that has helped people to rebuild in the past. A twenty two year old with no experience whatsoever has been put in charge of terrorism while Trump insists that we are on the verge of world peace. He complains that he has never received the Nobel Peace prize in spite of his many efforts to make the world safer, expecting us to believe that we are in much better shape than we were before he bombed a nation that has rarely been known for its live and let live attitude. At the same time he has flaunted the law and demonstrated extreme cruelty to immigrants many of whom were attempting to follow the laws.

I sincerely hope that all will end well but experience tells me that Trump has really messed up this time. I hope that my nightmares will not become real. I’d like to believe that my concerns will all be unfounded but somehow past experience tells me that a small man playing soldier has done something really terrible without thinking, and now he and our nation are standing exposed. 

Two women have left this earth and I find myself grappling with the loss. They were both people who brightened my days with their smiles, their optimism, their intellect, and their courage. Oddly enough I had no personal contact with them in the past five years, but they kept me smiling and feeling good about the world with their uplifting posts on Facebook.

Mary Ann Gorham attended that same high school that I did. She was a year ahead of me and I had little interaction with her until rather recently. I had been good friends with her sister, Frances, who was in my class. Frances and I had both been twirlers during our junior high days and we enjoyed many wonderful times and memories back then. 

We lost track after high school but seemed to pick up right where we had left off at our fiftieth class reunion. Mary Ann had accompanied Frances to the event and we felt an instant kinship with each other. The two of us immediately began to communicate regularly on Facebook and soon realized how much we had in common. We enjoyed many years of trading stories and making plans to get together in person but one thing after another stalled our plans including the Covid epidemic. Nonetheless I felt close to Mary Ann and I really fell apart when I learned of her death. Somehow it felt unfair that someone was taken at such a young age. I had hoped that we had many more years of developing our friendship.

On the day of Mary Ann’s funeral I came down with a rather daunting stomach virus that insured that I would not be able to drive across town to honor her. I wanted to tell her sister, Frances, how much I enjoyed the banter with Mary Ann and how she had often supported me with her comments on my posts. It all made me think of how we all too often talk about getting together but become too busy to make it happen. It is a regret that will haunt me. 

I was barely coping with the death of Mary Ann when I learned that Dr. Kylene Beers had also died. Once again I was stunned. It felt as though someone had punched the air out of me and I tried to explain to my husband through tears why Kylene was so special to me because he had never met her or heard me mention her. 

I first met Kylene Beers at a teachers’ convention. She was presenting a session on working with students who struggle to read. While it might have seemed strange for a mathematics teacher to attend a short seminar on the difficulties that some people have with reading, I knew that many of my students’ trouble with math came from the inability to read and comprehend well. I wanted to know what I might do to assist them in overcoming this kind of roadblock to their progress. 

Kylene was stunning and her suggestions prompted me to view my job as a math teacher differently. She helped me to understand that for some students it is not their knowledge of mathematical algorithms that is the stumbling block but rather their ability to know when and how to apply the rules. Reading often holds learners back so they end up hating math and telling themselves that they can’t do well when numbers are involved. Kylene showed me that there are many ways to teach reluctant learners how to take the building blocks of words apart to reach the understanding that they need to apply the methodologies of math. 

After that initial encounter I followed Kylene as her fame grew. She ultimately earned a PhD at the University of Houston and wrote books that I purchased and read with zeal. She opened her heart to educators everywhere by creating a Facebook page dedicated to enriching our knowledge of how to make reading accessible to everyone. I and hundreds of others followed her almost religiously. She was a gifted teacher and writer who always had a way of approaching even difficult topics with clarity and honesty.

I remember a time when she was quite disturbed that a book about Ruby Bridges, the young girl who integrated an elementary school in Arkansas in the early civil rights era, had been banned. A mother had complained that the story made her daughter feel sad. Kylene ferociously but ever so politely responded to the the mother in a letter that she hoped might reach the person who seemed to misunderstand the purpose of such books. In it she spoke of the courage of Ruby Bridges not just when she was a child but later as she became an adult. Kyene revealed that she and Ruby Bridges had become friends over the years and she proceeded to explain how remarkable Ms. Bridges became in spite of the prejudices that threatened to stymie her. Then Kylene praised the mother who had complained about the book by pointing out that Ruby’s story had made the child sad because she had obviously been taught to be beautifully compassionate. Kylene finished by declaring that reading has the power of helping to develop our best instincts.

Dr. Kylene Beers inspired me with her willingness to always stand up for those who were struggling. Mary Ann Gorham extended her friendship to me with a generous heart. They were both women who made my world better each day. I can’t imagine not hearing from them anymore. So many times they helped me to understand how truly good humans can be. With their deaths I have lost two people who uplifted my heart. Their memories will certainly be a blessing to me.

On April 19, two hundred fifty years ago, the American Revolution officially began when colonists fired on British soldiers at Lexington and Concord. The stories of who actually started the forays vary depending on what side of the disagreement the eye witnesses fell. Despite the uncertainty there seemed to be no turning back as members of the thirteen colonies felt they had enough of the erratic and often unfair behavior of the King of England. 

Not every colonist agreed with the idea of fighting for freedom. Some of my husband’s ancestors fled to Newfoundland for the duration of of the war that would ensue. My folks who were here took part in the battles. Captain Thomas Smith, my grandfather many times removed, represented the colony of Virginia along with his brother who ended up being a Colonel in George Washington’s army. The Rowsey family line also sent willing soldiers into battle. From those two lines would come my great grandfather and grandmother, John William Seth Smith and Cristina Rowsey, parents of my grandmother Minnie Bell. 

The shot heard round the world would end with a fledging nation defeating one of the greatest armies in the world to the awe of onlookers back in Europe. The creation of a democratic republic was a grand experiment that many people did not believe would last. The betting minds felt certain that the government of the people would be little more than a flash in the pan. 

Of course we know that things did not always go smoothly nor was the democracy open to every citizen of the new nation. It would not be until the late nineteen sixties that forced segregation would be a thing of the past and voting rights laws would protect all members of the United States. It had been a long road in that direction moving from only white men with property to Black men able to pay a poll tax to women finally being accepted as legitimate voters to finally outlawing practices that prevented all citizens eighteen years and older from registering their votes.

Of course there are still nasty tactics designed to suppress the votes of many Americans. We are yet to fulfill the ideal promises of our nation which is still in its infancy compared to many countries around the globe. The cracks and imperfections have become particularly visible of late with a president who seems to think that he can undo laws and create new rules with the stroke of a pen. In many ways he has resurrected the specter of a king complete with claims that he was sent by God to save us. 

I am truly worried about the future of our nation now that many of the expected duties of the three branches of government are being coopted by the current chief executive. There is a blurring of the separation of church and state that is concerning as well. In addition an entire political party seems intent on taxing the common man while exempting the richest people in our nation. Thoughts of taxation without representation are filling my mind and making me clearly understand what my ancestors of long ago believed was a cause worth fighting for. 

I have protested with my writing and sometimes even with organized groups. I still seem to have the freedom to do those things but it sometimes feels as though measures are being taken to silence those of us who are still speaking out. The threats and warnings are out there and many Americans have gone silent in response. I don’t blame them because they have families and jobs that they do not want to jeopardize. I am older like Benjamin Franklin was in 1775. I have far less to lose by taking chances. Still I worry that the time may come when compliance will be mandatory and I wonder if there will still be brave souls like the patriots of 1775 who ignore the threats to save our nation from authoritarians. 

There are good decent Americans bravely attempting to preserve our freedoms and our Constitution. Some of them are politicians, some are journalists, some are lawyers, some are ministers, some are everyday men and women who have decided to keep our right to speak and to protest alive even if it becomes dangerous. They are the modern day heroes whose love of our country is so intense that they refuse to allow one man or one group to tread on the liberty and sacrifice of the defenders of our nation from 1775 to the present.

I suppose that freedom is priceless but still demands that we work hard to keep it. Our nation has weathered a second war with England, a Civil War, World War I, World War II, and other battles and always comes together to keep the dream of our founders improving and becoming closer and closer to the ideal. I don’t want to think that we will only be able to keep it for two hundred fifty years. It is far too precious to give up now or ever. 

I live just down the road from Galveston, Texas, a seaside town with a storied history. It’s the port where my maternal grandparents first stepped onto the soil of the United States. It is a place that was at one time one of the most prosperous cities in the country until a killer hurricane destroyed dreams and killed thousands of people. It is also the site where Juneteenth was first celebrated by former slaves in 1866. 

The Civil war officially ended on April 9, 1865 but fighting continued sporadically in a number of places, most notably in Texas where diehards took their time in laying down arms and announcing to the slaves that they had been freed by the Emancipation Proclamation on June 1, 1863. It was not until June 19, 1865 that General Gordon landed in Galveston and announced that the war was over and the slaves were freed. One year later on June 19, 1866 Black Texans began a tradition of celebrating their freedom and dubbed the day “Juneteenth” which was a combination of June and nineteenth. 

I have grown up hearing about Juneteenth and the yearly festivities surrounding that date. Galveston and nearby Houston have always featured special events and family celebrations on the nineteenth day of June. Some called it other names like Freedom Day, Jubilee Day, or Emancipation Day. Festivities have included picnics, rodeos, parades, street parties and even voter registration efforts. It is also a day of education and a rendering of the history of Black Americans from the days of slavery to the present. 

The summer menu for Juneteenth parties include strawberry cake, barbecue, watermelon and other red foods to symbolize the strength and courage of the former slaves and those who worked for the freedoms of Black Americans across the nation. The tradition even includs a red and blue Juneteenth flag with a single white star in the center. 

On June 21, 2021, President Joe Biden signed a bill passed by Congress to officially designate June 19, Juneteenth Day, as a national holiday. Since then more and more Americans have learned the story of the lengthy amount of time that it took for all slaves to know that they were free. On that date in 1865, slavery ended even for those who had not yet been told of their liberation. 

This year as in every year the citizens of Galveston planned many special events for Juneteenth including the presentation of a special symphony performance that included a choir of Black singers from the area. All across the country Black Americans rejoiced and honored the generations of their ancestors who were enslaved for two hundred forty six years. They also remembered those who were freed but still suffering under Jim Crow laws that kept them separated from white society for another one hundred years. Nonetheless many Americans have little or no idea why we should celebrate such a day. Even our current president seems inclined to suggest that it is a waste of time to take off from work for something that seems silly to him.

Today there are efforts to erase the history of Blacks in the United States and to insist that there is no longer a need to speak of the continuing acts of racism that they endure. Our president has insisted that DEI programs be eliminated and has even insinuated on the day of Juneteenth that there are too many national holidays. He boasted that people should go to work, not take advantage by staying at home on days like Martin Luther King Day. He has also registered his discomfort with Black History Month along with other celebrations of minorities. 

Sadly we still have people who make racist jokes about Black people eating watermelon and sipping on red soda water without bothering to understand that these are symbolic foods because the color red stands for the courage of Black Americans whose freedoms were nonexistent or cruelly curtailed for over three hundred fifty years. Juneteenth itself reminds us of the reluctance of slave owners to free and then respect the people who had toiled for generations in the economic building of our nation.

I would like to see all Americans joining in with the lovely celebrations of Juneteenth in future years. We all need to better understand why this holiday is so incredibly important. We owe understanding and gratitude to our fellow Black citizens. It is fitting and wonderful that we can now all share the joy and remembrance of Juneteenth with an official holiday for all.

This year former President Joe Biden went to Galveston to celebrate Juneteenth with the people there. I would like to think that all of our presidents, past, present and in the future will honor all Black Americans forevermore. Juneteenth is incredibly significant and beautiful. Taking time to understand its importance and its history should be a part of all historical curricula for our children. Facing the reality of racism makes us better. Ignoring or hiding what happened to people whose history reaches back longer that most American citizens only grows irrational hate. Juneteenth just may be the most important holiday of them all.  

I grew from a child to an adult during an exciting time. The NASA space program was moving rapidly toward taking humans to the moon. President Johnson pushed through Civil Rights legislation that would upend the era of Jim Crow segregation. The women’s liberation movement was promising young women like me that I might be anything that that I wanted to be. Scientific research and discoveries were changing the world at a pace never before seen. We looked forward, not backward as we built safeguards like Medicare and Medicaid. Somehow the old rules of white male dominance seemed to be a thing of the past but if I had been wise I might have realized that not everyone was as excited about the changes as I was.

There have always been humans who envisioned a spherical world and those who insisted that the earth was flat. Even when we did successfully reach the moon and have photographs of our planet from space there would be people who thought that the whole thing was a hoax created in a Hollywood studio. Somehow there always seem to be skeptics who insist that pioneers in medicine and science belong in jail rather than in charge of our medical facilities and universities. They cannot envision the hard work and scientific methods that have pulled humans forward from the Dark Ages over time. 

Right now our government is being run by individuals more well versed in propaganda than knowledge, They question many of the advances that have led to longer healthier lives for humankind. Cancers that would have indicated a death sentence only a few years ago are now being treated successfully. Since World War II the United States has been at the forefront of scientific advancement and most of the work takes place in our world renowned universities. Sadly, the present administration is threatening much of the work that has been the mark of progress by removing funding at institutions with political ideas different from his own. 

I am very much a booster of progress forward. I am totally willing to pay more taxes to keep our discoveries happening. I remember children afflicted by polio. I saw my grandmother die of colon cancer in the most painful way. There was even a time when medications came without tamper proof packaging that led to a nationwide scare as Tylenol capsules were tainted with cyanide. 

So much that we now take for granted only came about because our government was willing to invest in laws, time, and funding for important programs that moved us into the future. Of late we have become more and more attuned to the idea of reducing the taxes of even the wealthiest among us rather than attempting to pay for stronger programs that we already know are providing better lives for most Americans. Somehow the fable of the tough individual who does not need the help of anyone else is very much alive and well even as it should be obvious that such a way of thinking might work for a few but rarely works for all. 

It saddens me to know that NASA’s budget has been cut to the lowest point since it came to be. All too often we think of space travel as a luxury that we might do without. We forget how much we have learned about our planet and others because of NASA. We don’t think about the many inventions that we use daily in our homes that came from the necessity of creating things that would work well in outer space. We have learned more about our geography and weather because of NASA. We now use satellites for worldwide communication. The list goes on and on, reminding me of the old adage that sometimes we are pennywise and pound foolish whenever we move to take away funding for one of the most important programs in our nation.

I find myself thinking of my favorite science teachers like Mrs. Colby and Father Bernard who opened my eyes to the possibilities of the world that scientific research has improved. I remember the excitement that they created in me by teaching me about the incredible inventiveness of humans and the power of the scientific method. I find myself wondering what brilliance will be overlooked if we continue to dismantle the genius of the past seventy five years. 

I worry about what will happen when we lose our best researchers to other nations because we destroy the programs that pay them to do their magic. I am anxious that in our quest to cut this and cut that we will create a society that seems not to care whether or not we can all receive a decent measure of care. How many cures will not be discovered? How many people will die because they do not have the means to pay for even minimal health services? Will people go hungry while the richest people in the world count their ever increasing piles of gold? Why have we decided that this is how we wish our nation to be? Why have we abandoned the progress that has defined our nation as one of the greatest places on earth?  Why are we moving backward rather than into the future? I simply do not understand.