La Única Raza: Humanidad

with I-dare-you stance:
If Congress has a problem?
Then just pass a bill

finally some guts
i’ve been waiting six years to
meet my President

to me, they’re my kids
being ripped from mama’s arms
that’s why i hear him

please just pass a bill
bipartisan human love
to connect us all

Chemical Wordfare

for liberty’s sake
chemicals dropped from the sky
burn the communists

our government saves
the young boys it sent to war
now dying old men

but in Viet Nam?
cancer, deformities, death
are all we offer

Monday’s lesson stings
the words of a war veteran
burn like Agent Orange

The Price of Freedom

two free holidays
first one ushers in a storm
mountains disappear

skyline from here
is always magnificent
minus the whining

how influential
a video-head friend is
shuffled in with clouds

moms must compromise
perk warmth into snowy scene
where surprise awaits

no seats near the girls
overheard conversation
prettier than snow

a Vietnam vet
three decades of war photos
now he snaps for peace

how much do you charge
to bring your eye-witness view
to my refugees?

you see, there’s this book…
as all great requests begin
Inside Out and Back…

Again, he returns
to where he lost his manhood
and became a man

I don’t charge a thing:
without our youth, our schooling
the world won’t change

we make lesson plans
till the girls will wait no more
Happy Veterans’ Day

first free holiday
though nothing is ever free
let snow send us peace

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Pages of My Book

Miss, why should i read?
Movies are so much better.
You see everything.

But what you can’t see
is the imagination
that invents the world.

Without reading books
who’d have written your movies,
given light to life?

fast-paced agreement
from Arabic-spewing mom–
he sighs, won’t give in

not five minutes pass
toothless, frumpy, loving mom
begs me to help her

why does her girl fail?
is it because of the shots
she saw as a child?

or her tent life,
her journey across the sea?
but what can we do

but cry out to God
and ask him to help us live?

then i remember

yes–a book i read
Wait–were you in Kakuma?
Yes–for nineteen years

tears swallow my throat
harrowing Lost Boy story
chronic refugee

sitting before me
(brutal book’s truth seeping in)
hope swallows her whole

i wish i could share
the beauty behind pages
that connect us all

if i could show him
the open-eyed life of words
oh, how he could fly!

ironic night ends
with her heart-wrenching handshake
pages of my book

Bought… and Paid For

with thousands of words
one hundred twenty letters
high schoolers shocked me

today? long boarding
last year? three mile water walk
in refugee camp

fathers left for dead
or years without their mothers
fear crossing borders

Somali warlords
Thai school beatings, civil war
their innocence lost

dreams to bring back peace
to a country they escaped
(and to pass my class)

whirlwind of worlds
sit in six columns, five rows
can i reach them all?

free education
earned with a blood-torn tear trail
worth every penny

El Día de Paga

my cup is now full
once more i enjoy palm trees
their path leads to peace

Failing

Here I am again. Nit picking away. Is this a sign of the times, a symbol of my year in Spain, or just another hassle like everything else?

I still haven’t been paid of course. It’s been three months. Not to mention the six months of hell and paperwork and thousands of dollars spent prior to that.

I just need to vent tonight. Bruce and I have spent ten hours today combing through all three girls’ hair, and my own, and finding more lice and nits than you could ever imagine. Add that to the laundry that we’re barely catching up on due to winter weather conditions, no dryer, and a north facing apartment. In fact, we can’t even run our washer and another appliance at the same time without the power going out. Truth is, we cannot run ANY two appliances without the power going out. Who came up with this back-asswards system, where the electric bill costs 150€ a month yet doesn’t consistently PROVIDE ELECTRICITY? I know I’m not the only one with this problem. I’ve heard others discuss similar problems, and on our travels we also ran into electrical snafus.

Add that to the serious lack of WiFi on the Iberian Peninsula, and I’m about done. The Internet rarely works well anywhere. We pay an exorbitant amount of money for ADSL and a phone with a data plan, and it’s designed for someone who doesn’t seem to actually USE it. Bruce tried to PAY for more megabytes today, and the web site locked him out!

The schools… I’ve complained a bit, but let me add on. My middle child has a gift. Not all of us are born with it, but out of my entire household, she is the one who truly has the gift of language. She has picked up more Castellano than the rest of us combined. Yet, the day before Christmas break, she came home with a report card with a failing grade in science, the equivalent to a D in Lengua Castellano, and a D in art (have I mentioned that she’s an artist and actually plans to make a career out of this?)? Her report card came with a note stating that she was pulled out for support for science and lengua. Upon further review (her interpretation), she is pulled out of class for those subjects, then put back in the classes (that she has then missed!) to take the exams, which are of course all rote memorization of facts. Not only that, but I didn’t receive any communication from the school, prior to the report card at the end of the term, either about the support classes or her FAILING.

I could pinpoint many reasons why this country is failing. But I think I’ll stick with lack of lice checks/healthcare, high bills that cover nothing, and schools that overlook gifts for rote memorization of facts, leading to a country filled with people who cannot provide basic services such as electricity, WiFi, or a paycheck.

Seven Centuries

hilltop Alhambra
generations of dreams built
Islam, Catholic rule

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My Perspective of Thanksgiving, 2012

For the month of November, I have been watching as many of my Facebook friends have posted daily things in their life that they are grateful for (their family, their memories, their ability to communicate with people from all over the world), all leading up to my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. Why is this my favorite holiday? The most obvious reasons, of course: I love homemade meals, baked goods, and the idea of a celebration being based on gratitude. But most importantly, despite the dark ghost of Black Friday that hovers over this holiday like an evil villain of consumerism, I love the fact that Thanksgiving, in my opinion, is the only holiday in America that is NOT influenced by capitalism. Unlike Halloween (I learned this year, upon making a Halloween PowerPoint for my students in Spain, that the average American spends $72.50 on Halloween items, totaling $5 billion!), Fourth of July, or just about any other holiday where special decorations, clothing, or fireworks flood the stores, Thanksgiving is happily neglected by consumerism due to the impending need for stores to stock up on Christmas hopes (yes, if you thought Halloween was bad, we spend $704, or $50 billion, on Christmas!!!).

But I digress. I, like most of my friends, do see the true importance of Thanksgiving, the root of the word. Regardless of the shady, inaccurate history of this first American holiday, the ability to express the gratitude that we often forget in our day-to-day lives is not lost on me as Thanksgiving approaches.

This year, living abroad, I am more grateful than ever for what I have in my life. Coming to Spain meant sacrificing more than I ever imagined when, one year ago at about this time, I made the decision for us to take this journey. Giving up our home, the most perfect job I’d ever (and probably will ever) have, having to say goodbye to friends who we may not see much of ever again (as our return to the US will depend on where I find work), and being away from our family has been much more difficult than I could have fathomed as I dreamed of learning Spanish, traveling through Europe, and finally fulfilling a lifelong dream.

I woke early this morning, well before my alarm, before the busy street that runs along our apartment filled with the sounds of weekday traffic. I came into the hallway and started to work on the computer while I ate my breakfast, and soon I heard my two youngest daughters rise and quietly begin playing an imaginary game with the 6€ set of cars they bought with their Ratoncito Pérez (the Spanish version of the Tooth Fairy) money at the Chinese store. The sound of their voices creating characters, witnessing love and abandonment, Riona’s small chirps of laughter and Mythili’s authoritative recommendations about car placement and car-jargon dialogue, filled me with warmth.

Coming to Spain, for my girls, meant giving up nearly every toy they owned, nearly all of their books, and making do with what we could fit into their suitcases or afford to purchase upon arrival, which hasn’t been much. Just like I have learned a new perspective about everything related to culture, education, and language, they have learned a new perspective about how to play.

So this Thanksgiving, which is just a regular working day for me where I present my Thanksgiving PowerPoint to Spanish students who know little about the holiday, where I will spend my evening pedaling across town from house to house earning every euro I will need to buy food to put on our table, I am grateful for perspective. The perspective that would be the same had I stayed home, and which has changed exponentially with this experience. The perspective that allows me to be ever so grateful for what my country provides to its citizens while at the same time taking pleasure in the simplicity and family orientation of the Spanish culture. The perspective that gratitude, whether read in faraway posts or spread through heartstrings on a quiet Cartagenian morning, can follow me wherever I go, can be a part of who I am, and can make giving thanks on this day that much more meaningful.

Official Spain Resident

canceled opening
rediscovering downtown
magic Roman port

paperwork finished
official Spain resident
now a paycheck please

¿quieres jugar?
words on wings float through playground
somehow lost on girls

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