clarity

there is uncertainty: what to  say 
even in the dignity of the world 
preserved  in light, the  lick of 
                                      sunlight 
                                     on water
the words that open in  my mouth
                                    are blooming
                                     like flowers
their faces in the breeze, are being
blown back, syllables breaking off
this day is familiar as all days are
                                      a theology 
                                     of forever
I am my wound, I am my healing

                                       right here

                                    and now

lifting into the day, learning to open 

looped as continuous as the seas 
the curl of one wave, the shoulder
                                     of the next  

                                  unknown
_________________________

Pic: Burchard Wetlands with RS. My first time here.

MSU solidarity encampment

More than 60 campuses across the U.S. have now set up encampments to call attention to the ever-rising death toll of the Palestinian people and to demand that our government cease aiding the Israeli government.  These protests have been compared to student Vietnam protests; to my friend CMS who was at Columbia in the 1980s, they are reminiscent of the anti-apartheid protests against South Africa. 

McSweeney's has a laugh-cry post about student protests that is so on the nose. "The University administration respects all student protests, just not this one. Students have fought for many important causes over the years, and their right to protest is sacrosanct. In this case, however, we must arrest and slander them. We will not look back and regret this decision. Although we were wrong about not admitting women, abolitioning racial quotas, US involvement in Vietnam, and divesting from apartheid South Africa, we are confident that this time is different."

This week, I've watched with horror as students have gotten tased, teargassed, and shot with rubber bullets, police show up in militarized outfits, and snipers have been stationed on the roof (at OU and IU). I am proud of the faculty who have shown up to support their students across various campuses, forming human chains, and trying to protect their students. 

This is the right thing to do. It's a glimpse of what the student-teacher relationship needs to be in times of crisis. If teaching means nurturing minds, it also extends to defending students from oppression. Faculty have since gotten violently arrested, and the video of the Emory professor being thrown to the ground with two burly police officers kneeling on her back is distressing in a way that is visceral. But it's still the right thing to do. 

I'm relieved that the local encampment at MSU that was set up today is relatively calmer. Police showed up to ask that the tents be removed, but left without incident. Morale seemed to be high and the protestors did not back down. It feels like so much has been lost, that we've lost our sense of fear too.

Pic: Encampment at MSU--about 20 tents and a few hundred people. For the safety of all, I'm sharing only a hazy photo pulled from the video the organizers shared.

my beautiful baby

 It has been a year. Some days it feels like yesterday, some days it feels like a distant dream of love.  

 

There have been tears every day, every day I've journaled has been tagged "ScoutDay." But I'm not racked by sobs as much as I was in the beginning, I don't wail and keen out loud in a way that terrifies the people I'm with. I'm more "civilized" in my grief. And in some odd way, I feel more love. 

Scout was a very special love. Something I haven't mentioned here before is how he was a champion for people. The only times Scout barked at people was if they were being too loud. Big A and Nu tend to yell when they get upset, and Scout would have none of it. As Big A said, when Scout barked at you, it was a reminder to tone things down.

I love you, my darling, my beautiful baby. I wouldn't change anything about our life together except wish it had been longer. 

puppy condo rules

Although I don't spend much time in there, our puppy "condo" is one of my favorite spaces. Max and Huckie dislike being in there by themselves (and Scout would complain SO MUCH), but it's nice for them to have a room in case a guest is uncomfortable around dogs, or they're wet, or got into something stinky. 

I like the puppy-centric art and the family pictures and all that--but my favorite part is the old mat that says "Wipe Your Paws." And I like that it faces outwards as if reminding those of us visiting to be respectful of the puppies' high standards for cleanliness. 

Pic: Max and Huckie pouting in their condo.

etude

1                                               2                                   3

                                        rain runs                            birdsong pushes               all that falls 

                                        like a chant                        music                                here and now

                                        in my head                         out of trees                        is dusk

                                                *                                        *                                       *

                                        making it through           the journey                       in our time:

                                        generations                      will remember                   singers die

                                        from knowing                  we outlive grief                 songs live 

________________________________________________________ 

Pic: Daffodil Hill with L last week. We thought we'd get rained out, but we made it. Daffodil Hill last year, also with L.  And the year before that (also with L). 

the other one

I keep feeling like I'm missing something. Part of it is the usual anxiety of final grading and checking my sums a million times as I'm bad at numbers. 

But it's also a season of sadness and grief. I don't know how we've made it a whole year without Scout, whose anniversary is on Wednesday... 

The cherry tree blossomed and reminds me of organizing the family to take a picture every year. Last year's picture makes me sob. 

Last fall, a storm took out the pink cherry blossom tree, so it's like a note from the universe that things will never ever be the same again.

 Pic: White cherry blossoms against the sky. I miss our pink cherry blossom tree and the mix of pink and white across the sky.

busy for a Saturday

Huck and Max were a bit lonely today. 

Nu was hosting six people for a sleepover and was way too busy for the littlest sibs. Amusingly brusque, as a matter of fact. It was a little glimpse of Nu as a host or perhaps a parent.

At was in Chicago for the Labor Notes panels. From the pic shared on family chat, I thought At was wearing a retro pantsuit--no, she was rocking a retro skirt-suit.

Big A was off to his 36-miler Barry Roubaix after a muffin-centric breakfast of champions.

And I was off to commencement--probably the happiest day in the academic calendar. I always clap for each of our ≈400 graduates, whether I know them or not. And then after the ceremony, we form a gauntlet for the graduates and it's just such a thrill and such a treat to see so many familiar faces from over the last four (or five) years and celebrate their big step up... and get goodbye hugs from some of them.   

Pic: In my robes for commencement. It always feels like I'm cosplaying as a medieval English cleric. Nicole had suggested angling up for full-length selfies. I guess this is an improvement from my previous selfie attempts as you can kind of see my plaid pants, but I need longer arms.