Posted on August 14, 2011 by Mary Clare
The Streets of London and a Bridge in Portland, OR
There are weeks when I think, “I have no idea what to write in this week’s blog.” Really. Lots of them. Then, without fail, events turn. They may be close in like with bus rides, or widespread like weather, or painful like the death of a dear one. They can also seem to have nothing to do with one another, and then, out of the nowhere of random neuron firings, I see… Read More
Posted on August 7, 2011 by Mary Clare
Climate — Listening to know for sure
I have a friend in South Dakota who lives in a town that flooded last month. It was near completely under water. I have another friend who lives in Akiak, Alaska who told me about the tundra taking on a smell, thawing for the first time in his life or in the lives of his ancestors who have lived there for many thousand years. Then there was the photo my dad managed to… Read More
Posted on July 23, 2011 by Mary Clare
Mr. Prude – II
“I heard from the Idol people. I’m goin’ to LA in October!” Mr. Prude was at the bus stop Tuesday morning. “I went right to the Western Union office and sent my mom a telegraph. Next thing I know my phone was ringing and she was saying, ‘I knew you could do it!’” So this is how the story of Mr. Prude was unfolding for me. Here was a man I took… Read More
Posted on July 16, 2011 by Mary Clare
Mr. Prude – I
Ever since my garage door crunched itself into an intractable accordion, trapping my car inside, I’ve been riding the bus. I like it. It takes more time, but it’s easy – and its richer. One of my companions at the bus stop most Tuesdays and Thursdays is Mr. Joey Prude. The first time we spoke was on a Thursday. That day, like every other day I’d seen Mr. Prude he sat under… Read More
Posted on July 3, 2011 by Mary Clare
Interdependence
Today is only a day. It is Saturday, the 4th of July weekend, and like every other day it has filled with moments linking up into hours, holding people and motion – holding change. This is how it went. Sun rays angled across the morning sky. I woke with two friends on my mind – two friends who are too close to death. Tom, a remarkable and kind educational leader, is here… Read More
Posted on June 26, 2011 by Mary Clare
Common Courtesy
It’s sunny in Portland OR and already in the 60’s at 12:24 p.m. on Saturday. People are out everywhere and I’m walking west, nearing the center of the Steel Bridge, one of the ten bridges spanning the Willamette River and operated by the Port of Portland. The water level is very high – highest since the flood of 1996. As I walk onto the Steel Bridge, I’m guessing the bridge operators are… Read More
Posted on June 17, 2011 by Mary Clare
Grandmothers on Fathers’ Day
Two American Indian men stand together. The Elder is Wyandotte and Choctaw of the Mississippi Valley; the younger is Walla Walla of the Columbia River. They are of two generations and they are friends. The men chat with one another during a break in a graduate class of mostly non-Indian students. The students are preparing to be teachers and counselors and taking this course on contemporary Native American life. The older man… Read More
Posted on June 10, 2011 by Mary Clare
Oppositions
Early this morning, I read email from “a cultural insider of the hacker community.” He’s a student in a class I’m teaching this term and was writing to clarify the term troll as it applies to internet hackers. A NYT article I’d assigned had used that word in a story of a man who drew people with epilepsy to an internet site that, unknown to the web surfers, presented a sensory blast… Read More
Posted on May 28, 2011 by Mary Clare
Soldiers Step to the Front
A young woman in camo was in front of me in the TSA line at the airport. It was a long line. I asked if she was headed home. “Furlough,” she said. “Afghanistan.” We talked families and weather. She said she’s in her second tour of duty. Back to back. “The reason I re-enlisted,” she went on, “well, it wasn’t because there’s any glory in it or anything. It’s pretty much hell. … Read More
Posted on May 6, 2011 by Mary Clare
Bin Laden’s Death & What We Really Want
I heard no fireworks. In the center of the rural Midwest, I was aware of no celebrations – raucous or otherwise – in bars, in living rooms, in church fellowship halls. I was an outsider. Just visiting. I may not have been sensitive to the signs. Midwesterners are also known to be a rather reserved bunch. But, this winter I’ve had occasion to observe both Green Bay Packers fans and energized mass… Read More