Category Archives: social justice

Northern Exposure: Same as It Ever Was

I was a big fan of Northern Exposure (1990-1995). My all-time favorite episode centers on main character half-Native Alaskan Ed and his insecurity — which is embodied in a little green man representing Low Self-Esteem, who lives with different types of other personal demons in a makeshift camp. He shows up unexpectedly to sabotage Ed when he tries to ask a girl out or help a patient in his apprentice shaman practice. In another episode, Ed goes back to the camp to fight his patient’s demon, External Validation. Of course, that demon lives in a fancy trailer, has an expensive car, and is dressed like a GQ model. I always the loved the idea of reducing your insecurities, which sometimes seem like big intractable monsters, to an annoying person you can laugh at and who lives with a lot of other dysfunctional, annoying people in a camp. You wouldn’t let that person have power over you, would you?

When I realized the show aired nearly 30 years ago, (WTF?), I thought I should try to rewatch the episode to make sure I remembered it correctly. I mean that could never happen, right?

If you are a fan, I’m sorry to say no one is streaming it right now. From what I could find out, it’s a music rights thing, which seems to hold back a lot of good shows. Don’t get me started. A few years back I wanted to rewatch the Ken Burns documentary, “Eyes on the Prize,” on the Civil Rights movement, but it wasn’t available … because of the music rights. Even now, it’s not widely available. Dear music industry, they paid you to use the music before, it’s not like they stole it. Just figure it out!

Back to the annoyance at hand — Northern Exposure. A revival is being discussed, but I don’t need to see them 30 years later. Although maybe that will get the ball rolling on streaming the original. I did find my favorite episode online on a somewhat sketchily named website called “The Internet Archive.” I started getting a lot of weird spam afterward, but I’m sure that’s a coincidence or just the Russians poking around. The really important thing was that not only was the episode as I remembered, it was even better — great writing, interesting and quirky characters, and tackling themes that are still relevant, which is kinda cool and kinda depressing. This shit is still not fixed, people.

The premise is that a new doctor Joel Fleischman from NYC needs to work for 3 years in a rural area to forgive his medical school loans. He gets assigned to the tiny Alaskan town of Cicely. But this show became so much more than its “fish out of water” premise. As soon as I discovered the episodes online, they were taken down. However, this is one of those rare times being old school is useful. I still own a DVD player and have a library card. Three cheers for libraries! I borrowed 5 seasons from them, and since they were missing season 6, I bought it, and donated it after I watched it. It was the least I could do.

I had too much fun watching to take a lot of notes on all the great moments, so here are a few highlights that reminded me fiction can be an excellent place to work out some of these tough topics.

Chris and Bernard Stevens

The episodes featuring white philosopher-DJ Chris and his Black half-brother Bernard (pictured above) are really good. They meet by accident and are so alike in so many ways, which mystifies them because they grew up in two different families, in two separate states. They share a birthday and only saw their dad every other year on their birthday. Turns out their dad was a traveling salesman who had 2 different families. In a stereotype buster, Chris’s family is completely dysfunctional and he spent time in jail for theft, while Bernard’s family was functional middle class, and he is an accountant.

The Bernard and Chris episodes tackle a number of aspects of racism, but my favorite was when Chris lost his voice, sort of a career killer for a DJ. Maurice owns the station, is the town’s founder, local blowhard, bigot, and is always scheming how to get his town on the map. Before he even knows if Chris’s voice will return, he asks Bernard if he would consider replacing his brother — they have a similar speaking style and philosophical musings. Bernard calmly tells Maurice he is a racist and a bigot, and enumerates many examples of Maurice’s dismissive and insulting behavior. He also calls Maurice out for not even waiting to see if Chris will get better. Bernard pauses and lets Maurice sweat a bit and shift uncomfortably. Then Bernard says, “But yeah, I’ll consider your offer.” Chris gets better.

Maggie O’Connell and Jane Harris

In another episode, Maggie the bush pilot has an argument with the new teacher, Jane (pictured above), a former military aerial tanker pilot, who says women shouldn’t fly in combat. Maggie, an unapologetic feminist is incensed that another woman — especially a fellow pilot — could say women don’t have the emotional fortitude to fly combat. They have several rounds of very heated discussions, with neither giving an inch. Finally, Maggie realizes that just because they are both women doesn’t mean they will agree on everything. She decides to apologize, and they agree to disagree. What a concept. Could we have more of that please? You know, anytime one of the 51% of white women who voted for Trump want to apologize, I’ll do my best to accept it.

Adam, Town Hermit

Adam (pictured above), a recurring character, is a barefoot paranoid curmudgeon hermit, who is also a classically trained chef, and may or may not be a pathological liar. Because his character is so on the social fringe, he gets to make a lot of social commentary. A stand out episode that caught my attentions talks about entitlement. He points out that the constitution does not say we’re entitled to be happy; we’re only guaranteed the pursuit of happiness. Which, of course, in our country most often applies to the white people, who are also often the most confused about this, thinking they are actually entitled to happiness. Go unpack that, and I’ll meet you back here in a couple of months.

Maurice Minnifield

And then there was this scene, which sucker-punched me. Chris is afraid of needles, but Maurice (pictured above) ignores it and forces him to give blood during the annual drive because he bet $1,000 that Cicely would collect more blood than the rival, neighboring town. He’d lost the bet the previous year and was humiliated at the annual Tundra Sons Lunch (Think Alaskan male version of the Daughters of the American Revolution). Maurice, a driven ex-astronaut, is the pinnacle of a successful businessman, and he sputters with all of the outrage of a privileged white man obsessed with winning, “If they [the rival town] pledge 500 pints, we’ll do 501. Then we’ll see who’s smiling at the Tundra’s Son Lunch!”

To which Chris responds, deadpan: “And we wonder what makes America so great, huh?”

Yeah. That.

It’s Quite Vivid

Top 5 for 2018, Cuz We’re All in Hurry

It’s a Classic

4 Replies

I’d walked by the small sign on a tiny side street in Boston’s Beacon Hill many times on my way home, and always wondered what was behind the door at 37A. Most of Beacon Hill is made up of tiny side streets that barely accommodate cars, so I often feel like I’m travelling back in time and can hear a faint clip clop of horse shoes on cobblestone. The name fed into the time travel: Harvard Musical Association. I rarely saw anyone going in or out, and I wondered if Harvard, which was way across the river, had misplaced a piece of itself.

But that’s what I love about Boston. You could walk on side streets all over town and stumble on these tucked away associations and societies — some still active because of a blue blood trust, some long gone with only a plaque to mark the spot, but all of them tracing their roots back to clip clop on cobblestone.

By chance I got invited to a fundraiser of a friend’s music organization for kids called musiConnects to be held at — you guessed it, the Harvard Music Association. Two-fer! This liberal snowflake would get to support music for kids and find out what’s behind mystery door #57A. My friend asked to pass the invitation to anyone who liked classical music. I was short on time, so didn’t have a chance to drum up anyone to bring. I also wasn’t sure who of my friends liked classical music. I like it myself, once I got over my father’s efforts to push it on us as kids, and I even took some adult ed classes to learn more. It always seemed me to be a type of music that to truly appreciate it requires some knowledge of the interplay of the notes, the vocabulary, the context in which the composers worked. Unlike, say, a kickass Jimi Hendrix guitar riff. It didn’t help that I learned the hard way, you don’t just buy Schubert’s Symphony #4 for an afficionado. They want a recording by this specific symphony, with that guest conductor who was there in 2005, on the occasion of the composer’s 350th birthday.

Jimi playing pretty much anywhere is good stuff.

At least listening to kids playing classical music, I had a better chance of accessing it. I know, I know, symphonies want a broader audience, and I get it, but some of us are still intimidated by the ornate hall and the impeccably dressed musicians. And memories from that one summer concert at the Hatch Shell when a storm blew up suddenly. It delayed the performance for a short time, but also rained, hailed briefly, and then created a spectacular rainbow, which I and my small son enjoyed thoroughly. First we laughed at the crazy weather, then ooed and ahed at the rainbow, all the while getting the stink eye from the older patrons, who seemed to take issue with our glee at mother nature’s interruption.

I had no idea what to expect, but from the moment I entered at 57A, it was pure magic. The door led to a typical winding 1800’s staircase that led to a gorgeous main room. I love how so much space is hidden in these old brownstones. The streets outdoors are actually more cramped than the indoor spaces.

The walls were lined with paintings, of course, and bookcases of musical scores. The association has a storied history, cuz, you know, Boston, complete with a library, free practice rooms for musicians, and having a hand in creating the Boston Symphony Orchestra. As one does. You can read it all on their website. But that was just the appetizer.

The real treat began when muciConnects resident musicians played 5 chamber pieces, all composed by women, in sets of string quartets, one which included the kids, and another featured a drummer of the tabla, a drum used in North Indian classical music. These professional musicians teach hundreds of Boston kids to read and play chamber music (which is typically played in small groups of 3-6 people). In the process the kids gain confidence and learn collaborative thinking.

I’m not sure what I expected, but the intimate setting and the personal chat the musicians gave about the piece and their experience with it totally flipped everything for me. This wan’t an academic talk, or giving information you could find on Wikipedia. They were speaking of it as a live thing that mattered to them. One musician introduced a piece by Fanny Mendelssohn, sister of the more famous Felix Mendelssohn (but only because he was dude). She said it was a difficult piece and during practice the group struggled with the sound, so they decided to sing the notes instead and that helped them hear it in a different way. If she hadn’t mentioned the difficultly, I might not have appreciated the last movement, which indeed sounded amazing and looked … difficult. The four bows were flying back and forth, up and down, making the notes fell over each other and into each other into a beautiful finale. When they finished the last note they all looked at each other briefly and their eyes and smiles said, “Yes! Nailed it!” And how can you not get excited when the musician says, “This a really fun, energetic piece, I hope you enjoy it as much as we do.” The joy on their faces when they played was as uplifting as the music.

Then the 3 students came up and played with their teacher/musician. The music was simple, but they did so well. They were working hard to watch their teacher and each other, smiling the whole time. The relief (no mistakes!) when it was over was just as sweet.

So what’s behind door #57A? An evening I won’t soon forget. Thanks to the musiConnect kids and their teachers for showing me that classical music actually is accessible, even to a Jimi Henrix fan like me.

Do It for the Elders

3 Replies

Unless you live under a rock/bubble bigger than mine, which is highly unlikely as it’s one of my minor superpowers, you have heard the request to vote from every crack and crevice of our system. And you’ve most likely heard the very good reasons: make your voice heard, participate in our democracy, save our country from ruin (even though people differ on the definition or ruin, we seem to be able to agree we’re all working toward that goal).

And that is all fine, but in case those reasons don’t do it for you, here’s another: Do it for the elders who single-handedly run our polling systems. At least here in Massachusetts.

I have lived in and voted in 3 different areas in and around Boston: in a city with a mix of college kids, townies, and those from elsewhere who liked it enough to stay; a working class city; and now a bastion of blue snowflakes. What do they have in common? Every poll place is run by people over the age of 70, maybe even 75.

While we’re bellyaching about having to run in there before, after, or during work, or between jobs, or picking up/dropping off kids, or between care giving errands, these badass guardians of our democracy are there from 7 am to 8 pm on election day, and with early voting, on many other days, as well.

So if you are at least trying to pretend you’re human, you should go out of respect of these elders, many of them grandmas and grandpas. Are you going to diss grandma? Are you that lame?

And if you don’t care about that, are you going to be shown up by a little old man or lady? They can get up early and sit there asking people the same questions for hours, and you can’t manage to take 10 minutes to pop in and vote?

C’mon, don’t be an asshat, just vote! You can always be an asshat later.

And of course all you lovelies who have voted or will, thank you. You’re utterly fantastic, and the badasses approve.

Photo credit: OMF

Here’s What We’re Going to Do

2 Replies

My grandmother, who we called Memere (we’re 1/2 French Canadian), would say, after listening to whatever childish request we’d cooked up or if it were a rainy day and we were moping around, “Here’s what we’re going to do.” And some amazing activity would ensue: cooking up cripes (that was our version of crepes), or making a dress for an off-brand Barbie, or figuring out what fun thing to do with a piece of a float that had washed up on the shore of her tiny lake cottage.

She has moved on, but her words came back to me as I have been thinking about the three ballot questions we have in Massachusetts. If you live here, I’m sure you’ve read up, or have been reading the flyers that are inundating your mailbox, or you’re getting phone calls from engaged young enthusiastic people. But you’re still not sure?

Here’s what you’re going to do. And because my Memere’s involved, at least in memory, you know you can trust this:

Ballot Question 1, NO: Do you approve of a law that would limit how many patients could be assigned to each registered nurse in Massachusetts hospitals and certain other health care facilities. The maximum number of patients per registered nurse would vary by type of unit and level of care. No on 1.

I work at a hospital that is consistently ranked in the top 3 in the nation–OK once we went down to #4, but they changed the criteria that year–and we say no. The nurses at my hospital have complete control over how many nurses they need to take care of patients who are always changing and have changing needs. One size does not fit all. Here’s is the chief nurse speaking plainly about it to one of our docs. It’s not a slick advertisement, just an iPhone video of reality. Our chief nurse says no on 1

2. Ballot Question 2, YES: Do you approve of this proposed law that would create a citizens commission to consider and recommend potential amendments to the United States Constitution to establish that corporations do not have the same Constitutional rights as human beings and that campaign contributions and expenditures may be regulated. Yes on 2.

We’re Massachusetts, and we have lots of smart eggheads who can help clarify this. I know being smart is totally out of fashion right now. But we can’t help ourselves. Let’s show the rest of the county how it’s done, shall we? They hate us anyway, so what do we have to lose?

3. Ballot Question 3. YES: This one is do you essentially re-approve of a law that has been in existence since 2016? This law already adds gender identity to the list of prohibited grounds for discrimination in places of public accommodation, resort, or amusement. Such grounds also include race, color, religious creed, national origin, sex, disability, and ancestry. A “place of public accommodation, resort or amusement” is defined in existing law as any place that is open to and accepts or solicits the patronage of the general public, such as hotels, stores, restaurants, theaters, sports facilities, and hospitals. “Gender identity” is defined as a person’s sincerely held gender-related identity, appearance, or behavior, whether or not it is different from that traditionally associated with the person’s physiology or assigned sex at birth. Yes on 3.

WTF? Look, whatever feelings you have about people who may be different from you. THIS LAW ALREADY EXISTS. No children, pets, or people’s silly pride had been harmed by this law.

WHY ARE WE STILL TALKING ABOUT THIS? You live in Massachusetts–we’re a bunch of blue snowflakes, deal with it. If you have a problem, there are lots of other states you can be happy in. Buh-bye.

Happy voting people, and please don’t disappoint my Memere!

Image credit: National Monitor

And….Cut! Take 2

1 Reply

I made a commitment to get more involved in racial injustice, and I realized I needed to educate myself. Ain’t nobody need a white woman to show up with her guilt and then have to help her figure out her racial junk. That’s on me to learn about my own biases and what I do consciously or unconsciously that keeps systemic racism alive. Many years ago, I took a more straight forward route and read a number of books about the civil rights movement. I never learned that in school — we were lucky to make it to WWII, which we sped through in the final weeks of the school year. Germans invade Europe! We Americans swoop into rescue them! England kinda helps! Russians bad! We beat Hitler, yay, we’re out for the summer!

But getting back to an actual education, the civil rights movement was good for me to understand, but this time I wanted to learn more about what’s going on now in the lives and struggles of people of color. How can I be helpful now? So I have been trying to educate myself, admittedly a little randomly, with the idea that the things I need to learn will find their way to me.

That sounds soooo white hippy dippy doesn’t it? See how much work I have to do? As I learned from one of the books I read, the Black folks are giving me “shade” and “side eye.”

I have written 5 or 6 posts on the topic, and the last few kind of bothered me, and not in the good way like, “Wow, I feel defensive, I must be poking myself in the right places!” (Ain’t No Mountain High Enough and “Get Out”: A Spoonful of Sugar.)

They definitely feel too preachy, as in, “white people, let me tell you a thing or two.” My bad writing spidey sense was tingling, but I couldn’t make out why. So please forgive me for pushing the publish button anyway. The show must go on! Or at least the Monday morning post. I grant you it’s obnoxious, but far worse, it’s bad writing, which I will not tolerate…I’m fired! Wait, no, I’ll just try to do better.

I wasn’t able to put my finger on the problem until I started talking about it with my friends Becky and Susan, whose questions help clarify the issue. They are gay and have witnessed how I have been an ally for gay folks for many years now. What’s different about trying to be a Black ally?

And that is a good question. It feels different, more complicated. I told them when I first started showing up at the Gay Pride Parade and listening to my friends coming out stories, I was welcomed and appreciated for my efforts. Also, the movement was so new (compared to, say, Black history), that it didn’t take long to catch up. Hiding, hiding, hiding, Stonewall! We’re here, we’re queer, get used to it! I didn’t even have to learn about the AIDS. I witnessed it. How convenient is that? Also, there is a lot of dancing and fabulousness, and turning pain into joy. That also happens to be my main coping mechanism.

Being an ally to gay folks seemed to be a bit like going to France. Although the gay people I know are way nicer than the French. France, if you try to speak a little French, they will put you ahead of the obnoxious American tourist who makes no effort to communicate, except to speak English louder, as if that will help. Gay folks were like, hey, you listen, you want to learn, come on in!

My uncomfortable realization is that I like being praised for my efforts. I want to get the gold star, the A+ for participation. And I got that from gay people who are happy to have me and want to tell me their stores.

On the other hand, Black people seem very tired of explaining themselves, and who the heck can blame them? I’m not sure how to show my interest without, well, being white about it. Black people have turned their pain into joy too, and I like gospel music, but the church part kinda gives me the willies. Although, I have discovered we have in common our dislike/distrust of the Catholic Church, so, you know, that’s a start.

For other types of music, I don’t think you can be white and show up at a Kiss-n-Grind, which is all about dancing to soul, house, and other kinds of music and hanging out — I learned about it from the HBO show Insecure. (It’s a really good show, and I’ll write more about it, but go watch it!) Well, OK, I just Googled the real thing and there are pictures of a few white people in the crowd. But I can’t go because I’m probably too old, not cool enough, and it seems like it’s just an LA thing. And I get pretty East Coast provincial about LA, but maybe I can work on that.

More talk with Becky and Susan helped me see that this is my journey of discovery, the good, the bad, the awkward, and the difficult. I have no right to say how other white or Black people are feeling or should feel, but I can write truthfully about all the missteps and embarrassing things I’m doing while I’m finding my way. That also just so happens to make better blog material, so it’s win-win.

Bear with me as I am halfway through several books that crossed my somewhat confused path, (I’m Judging You by Luvvie Ajayi, Remaking Black Power: How Black Women Transformed an Era by Ashley Farmer). Books waiting to be read like The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl by Issa Rae (actress, writer, and producer of the aforementioned “Insecure”). There are a couple of movies on order, such as “Sorry to Bother You” and Spike Lee’s “BlacKkKlansman.” Actually, Spike Lee grabbed me in the 80s with “She’s Gotta Have It,” and I need to keep pace with him, which I should get extra points for — he’s prolific!

Ah. OK. I’m doing not for the A+, but to be a better person. Right. But you know, if any Black folks out there want to think I’m hip for loving “Insecure” and following Luvvie Ajayi, that’s cool, even if I’m more like Frieda, the awkward, overly earnest white chick in the show, I ain’t no hollaback girl. Or maybe I am. Can you wait a minute while I go look that up?

	sdeden on Traditions Have to Start …
	thecreativeparttimer on Traditions Have to Start …
	Traditions Have to S… on Beocat Could Eat Beowulf for B…
	Top 5 for 2018, Cuz… on Beocat Ate Beowulf for Breakfa…
	Top 5 for 2018, Cuz… on Beocat Ate Beowulf for Breakfa…

Spread the Sandy Love

Like this:

Spread the Sandy Love

Like this:

Spread the Sandy Love

Like this:

Spread the Sandy Love

Like this:

Spread the Sandy Love

Like this:

Spread the Sandy Love

Like this:

Spread the Sandy Love

Like this: