Cold Spaghetti

I recently read Three Cups of Tea, the story of Greg Mortenson and his years of working in remote Pakistan and Afghanistan, building schools for some of the most impoverished children in the world.  As a professional in the field of health and development, I was struck by the innocence with which Mr. Mortenson approached the monumental challenges inherent in this field with little support and no training; naively equipped with only respect and kindness in his heart.  Part of the importance of the book is that it clearly demonstrates how the impoverished are easy targets for extremists, who offer free education, housing, and meals to people faced with no other life-sustaining options.  In the area of the world forgotten by American aid and blanketed with US bombs, Greg Mortenson helps communities build schools and provides possibly the only light of American kindness seen by these people.  The book passionately describes the beauty of the land, the people, and the compassion within of each community.  It gives example after example of how, no matter the differences in our cultures or religions, we all want the same opportunities and happiness for our loved ones.

In that spirit, I encourage anyone who wants to honor the anniversary of 9-11 to visit the Central Asia Institute’s website, read about how their programs fight terrorism in it’s root causes, and make a tax deductible donation to this wonderful nonprofit.

UPDATE: This post was named a JUST POST for September 2008.  (Thank you, Alejna!)

By the fourth semester of teaching the same college-level Women’s Health course, there were few surprises. But then, in that last term, during the session on reproductive health, our faculty lecturer asked the crowd a question she’d asked every class: “what is the most common form of birth control?”

Usually there would be murmurs of ‘condoms’ ‘IUDs’ and ‘birth control pills’ from the crowd. In three terms, we’d never heard anyone give the correct answer (sterilization). But that last semester, we were all shocked when the crowd of 300 students filled the lecture hall with a single answer: “ABSTINENCE!”

Holy crap. The other GSIs, the lecturer, and I all exchanged surprised and frightened looks. We realized in that moment that the generation deprived of sex education was hitting college-age and the impact of just what that meant had a chilling potential. (Coincidentally, this was also the term when one of my freshman students came to office hours after the anatomy and physiology lecture and shyly asked, “So, women have, like, three holes, right?”)

Maybe those experiences were my hint that American people are really, incredibly, and undeniably in the dark. That our nearly 30 years of conservative governance chipping away at the building blocks for solid, healthy lives and quality education have grown a populace too under-educated, too tired, and too sick to make good choices. This is my only answer for why anyone in their right mind could think Sarah Palin is a good choice for Vice President of our country.

I do not want to give the Governor a hard time because I honestly feel badly for her.  She was thrust out of her small town responsibilities and into an arena she is no where near being experienced, educated, or informed enough to handle.  She is not there because of any political credentials or successes.  The McCain campaign, by choosing her, exposed their own prejudices and misogyny inherent in the radical right agenda; they did not look within their party to the successful, experienced women who are known to be among the more moderate on their side of isle (Olympia Snowe? Kay Bailey Hutchinson?)  Instead, they are giving us what we voted in 8 years ago… an unknown, religious fundamentalist, junior legislator with little experience and completely unprepared for the office of President.   They chose a woman directly to speak to Clinton supporters, yet with none of the qualities Hilary brought to her candidacy. (And speaking of Clinton, whoa, Palin seriously owes her some major props for more than a year of tough campaigning and door opening, without which the Palin nomination would never have been possible.)

All I can think of when I see Palin and hear the school-boy love gushing by those conservative dough–boys is how the McCain camp picked the only kind of woman they can support: one that they can fantasize about. Whether it is the sexy-librarian, the hot-for-teacher, or the superior officer fetish (you remember that one, Jack Nicholson relays it in ‘A Few Good Men’ – line about half way through the clip), Palin brings that sex appeal to the race.  Guys and girls alike have no problem dismissing the ugly girl. But when a pretty girl comes along and asks for something, guys have a hard time not obeying her every word. And girls, well, we can sometimes have a hard time not following that same siren call; we were indoctrinated through years of watching 90210.

Steinem called her “Phyllis Schlafly, only younger”.  I think she’s worse.  She fills the conservative analysts’ favorite seat, the one that was Paglia’s and then Coulter’s, that of the anti-feminist feminist.  With Palin, McCain’s camp can twist feminism as a buzz word, invoking all sorts of archetypal favorites: The Mother, The Tough Cookie, The Small-town Hero, and make theirs a campaign about butterflies and rainbows and sit-by-the-fire family stories.  Anything to avoid attention on what the campaign should be about: issues.

Please, my fellow country men and women, please please please help me believe that we, as a nation, are smarter than this.  That we will not put another fundamentalist into office.  That the next executive branch will not include a creationist who denies global warming and encourages the burning of more fossil fuels.  I need to believe that we are better than this, that we can elect leaders who stand out and represent the best of what this great nation has to give.

UPDATE: This post was named a JUST POST for September 2008.  (Thank you, Alejna!)

She was one of the only freshman in my class; confident, questioning, and thoughtful.  Her ability to absorb relatively complex ideas about gender, race, and class and fit them into her own experiences was impressive.  Particularly because, although she had graduated at the top of her high school class, her writing ability was no higher than a middle school level.  Her thoughtful reading of course materials, persistence in attending office hours for extra help, and astute questioning of everything around her gave her an air of innocence and intelligence; making it clear that any shortcomings in her writing was not because she hadn’t learned it, but because it had never been taught.

Of the many anecdotes I gathered from her, this one is the one that has stuck with me for years.  She described playing in the band in her Detroit High School, something she loved.  She never really noticed that the instruments were dull and dented, or felt it was strange that students had to take turns bringing instruments home for practice.  The fact that they wore matching clothes rather than actual uniforms didn’t really occur to her.  What she loved was the camaraderie of the group and the chance to be proud of what they played together.  She was thrilled when they were offered the chance to compete at a State-wide competition.

Then they arrived at the competition.  She saw the new instruments, fancy uniforms, and huge numbers of students from schools not too far from her own.  When she saw the tremendous differences between her school, of which she was so proud, and the other schools, she realized, ‘we weren’t suppose to be there.’  She understood that the unspoken message to her and her classmates was that this competition was not for them; they were not as a prepared, not as polished, and ultimately, not going to be a serious participant.  I remember her talking through that memory, struggling with the complex feelings of pride for the opportunity, confusion at the differences that were so apparent, and frustration over what to do or how to feel about it.

Without taking away from the acheivements of any athlete, I find it hard to watch the Olympics and not have her story foremost in my mind.

UPDATE: This post was named a JUST POST for August 2008.  (Thank you!)