tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21162556973190098142024-02-20T07:01:35.802-08:00Because Vielka Said SoViva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-37186930130644776782014-01-22T22:04:00.000-08:002014-01-22T22:08:29.752-08:00For You and You and You...A student angered me a little today. He felt that I was not teaching enough of the white male experience. Although he seemed to acknowledge learning a lot about White people in the text and just about everywhere, he felt that my lectures should also be devoted to uncovering that curriculum oversight. People talk about teachers being parents and mentors but I have to say the emotional restraint I demonstrated in that moment can only be compared to something I would do if I were born on Krypton. If ever there were a time to add superhero to the list of what teachers really are...That P90X must really be working.<br />
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I've mentioned my tendency to obsess so in an effort to get some sleep tonight, I wrote out what I intend to say to the kid tomorrow. I thought I'd share.<br />
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"The importance of teaching an inclusive curriculum is two-fold: people of color can't continue to either not see themselves at all or only as victims and White people need to understand that the greatness that is the United States did not come without the blood, sweat, and tears of African-descended peoples, Native peoples, Raza, Asians, non-Christians, women, non-heterosexual peoples, poor people, and colonized people. And if I can take it one step further, the persecution and existence of said people would not exist had it not been for the capitalist, imperialist ventures that occupy "whiteness." <br />
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"It's uncomfortable to be put in a position where your paradigm has shifted, where you are momentarily not the altruistic protagonist. And that's right. That's the point. So my goal isn't that you remember specific names and dates and places when you leave here. I want you to remember why you felt uncomfortable. My hope is that one day when you are confronted with something that removes you from that place where you are the hero of the story, that you think critically about how you arrived in your situation, how that person arrived at theirs. And I'm only asking for those few seconds of thought. That would be success for me."<br />
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I've been somewhat cataloging the reactions from the more conservative elements in the room.<br />
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When I called the Bracero program yet another example of the US' "immigration of convenience," he almost tossed his desk at me.<br />
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When I talked about the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, I got a reluctant nod and a mumbled "that was pretty bad."<br />
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Atomic bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki? A very enthusiastic hand raise with five minutes on how it "wasn't as bad as they would have us believe." Whenever I ask who "they" is, it somehow ends up being Obama so I just stopped asking.<br />
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Seeing as how I am not a viewer of Fox News, I am particularly unfamiliar with this perspective on history and events and I must say while fascinating to watch, it scares the mess out of me.<br />
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Kids in another class would often joke with me about my seemingly rigid rules for Omar. In their defense, I did say he didn't need to go trick-or-treating because that was just begging people for stuff and he can get his own candy when he's old enough to get a job to pay for it. But I did end up taking him trick-or-treating. <br />
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The one thing I wouldn't budge on was Disney princess movies. I explained to the kids that it didn't have anything to do with heterosexual romances and why as a culture we insist on hetero-sexualizing children from birth, although that was part of it. I said that it is because as a male, I can see that he is learning a gender identity that includes women waiting on him constantly. If Omar wants some juice in my house, he gets it himself. If he needs me to do something for him, he asks and says "please." If he starts screaming and yelling, he doesn't get it. I make one dinner; if he doesn't like it, guess who isn't eating? While it seems harsh, the alternative seems worse--thinking that someone is waiting around for the kiss, just to pledge their devotion to someone they've known for all of three seconds, just seems to be the wrong way to raise children to have healthy friendships, colleagues, relationships, and commitments. <br />
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And that seems to be the same interrogation of privilege that I am trying to teach students. Crossing my fingers on that one.<br />
Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-89322238296534499802014-01-04T20:50:00.002-08:002014-01-04T20:50:48.603-08:00The WorrierWhen my son's teacher said "we need to talk," I might have obsessed over it for a few days. It was probably a week and a half. I asked my colleagues and friends and shot out ideas about what could be the issue. I mulled over my parenting missteps over the last month, weeks, days, and hours. I came up with a pretty long list from too much television, to not washing his hands all the way that one time, to microwaving his dinner rather than making something hot off the stove. After days of this, when I went to drop him off at school and asked his teacher how I should set up an appointment, she said "I've been meaning to apologize for my lack of tact. I know you're a worrier." Dang, that obvious?<br />
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I realized that a good majority of my neuroses has more to do with what I'm frightened of rather than some quirky little tick that I have. All the cleaning? I'm worried about disease...and smells, definitely bad smells. The organic-panic? Disease again. I can stick in a word or two on nutrition but it's really about disease. Vegan? Disease. Hating close-talkers? Disease. Over-exercising? Disease. Disease. Disease. My obsession with reading? Probably not disease-related, but I can think of something soon enough.<br />
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Back to my son's school, we somehow got on the topic of my teeth. Strangers, co-workers, friends, and family--somehow the topic of my teeth comes up I'd say about once per week. I get it: they are very white and straight, especially considering I haven't had anything done to them except for when I brushed them so much I literally brushed away the gums and had to have some grafting done. But never a cavity nor braces. I have enjoyed comments from dentists: "I never make any money off you" or "I could torture you by pretending to scrape but there really isn't anything to scrape." Someone once asked me how long my teeth-brushing ritual is each night. I said that I once got up during a commercial break to brush, floss, etc. and came back and it was still on the commercial break, or so I thought. I later figured out it was the next commercial break. Point is, they are a conversation-starter just as they were this particular day at preschool. So my son's teacher said something, and I said, "it's actually a problem for me since I've spent most of my life brushing my teeth...probably." She laughed which was a good thing since that meant she thought I was exaggerating (as if!) and then got this really thoughtful look on her face and said "well, that explains it." She went on to explain that my son really likes things in a particular way and gets really focused on getting things just right and gets super bent out of shape when things don't go his way. I said "if OCD isn't hereditary, then it is certainly contagious (disease!)" and I decided at that moment that vis-a-vi Oprah, I would "let it go and let it flow." So with this being resolution-season, here are the <b>Top Ten Things I Am Not Tripping Over in 2014</b>:<br />
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10) What you're doing and by "you" I mean the Kardashians. Fortunately I assume there won't be any more proposals that interrupt commuting so we might be all good anyway.<br />
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9) What you're doing and by "you" I mean selfie-takers (Kardashians included here too). I'm not sure of the depth of self-esteem-searching found when someone does a rep or two at the gym or puts on a bathing suit when she isn't at a beach or pool then snaps a picture and posts it for the world to see then waits for the obligatory "you look great" comments to roll in just to reply back with some sort of "oh stop" BUT I don't want to be a part of it!<br />
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8) My dress size. I am really starting to be convinced that those sizes are manipulated just to send women to Weight Watchers meetings in droves so I'm good with that too.<br />
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7) Obama-haters. I can't keep up with where we are in the he's too Black/not Black enough dialog anyway. My thought is that he is a politician and a president which really means his main objective is to appease meaning he can't be the Socialist/Atheist/Border-opening/No-war having/Free-university-education-giving leader I want him to be anyway but yo, he's the FIRST BLACK PRESIDENT of this country and only one person in all of history can say that and he's smooth too...He's definitely alright in my book.<br />
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6) Organic, non-seasonal, non-local produce. I've spent a good amount of time at Whole Foods staring at the organic Peruvian bananas in December. I start thinking, those suckers are pretty pricey. Did we jack up the price like we did quinoa so Peruvians can't get a decent banana? In Nicaragua, it's pretty much beans, bananas, and rice so I know Latinos would be hurting without our bananas and their plaintain cousins. Then I start thinking, how did they get here? Were they picked too early so they would be yellow by the time they got here? Shouldn't "organic" also include how it got here? I mean, it's one thing to go without the pesticides when it's in the ground but I'm kinda thinking I want those chemicals back if the fruit is making some wild 5,000 mile sea, air, and land trip to get to me. See that? It's too much so I'll just keep it local and quit staring at the bananas.<br />
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5) Omar's Spanish pronunciation. He's a toddler so he has that lisp which means when he speaks Spanish, he sounds Cuban. I got yelled at a lot for funky pronunciations (I can't even say when I was just a kid because I still get yelled at) and it's made me super self-conscious about speaking Spanish especially around native speakers so I just avoid it or try to say things that don't have the letter "r" in it (pretty much impossible). Needless to say, I get out of practice and I'm really hoping my son speaks better Spanish than me so for now, "uno, doth, breast" will have to do.<br />
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4) Painting my nails. I've spent a lot of time and money on my nails and it's not like it's an investment so I'm pretty much done with that.<br />
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3) My Suze Orman plan. Not because it isn't the best but because I have it down so well, I can pretty much follow the steps by rote. It's kinda cheating but at least I'm not reviewing the book over and over again.<br />
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2) What you're doing and by "doing" I mean tagging me in pictures where I am sweaty or prior to my introduction to tweezers. Just ask: if this were a picture of me, would I want it all over the internet? Save me the obsessive staring!<br />
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1) The past. I read once that we seem to hold on to the period in our lives where we think we did our best. For me, that's the 90s. Most of the music in my iPhone is from that decade. When I go for runs, I think about how in the 90s, I used to be able to run ten miles, take a shower, then hang out all night. I think about all the great people I met in the 90s and all the fun we used to have. In my reminiscing, I forget how those valuable friendships are in the present and how I can travel most anywhere in the world and hang out with someone I met in the 90s and pick up like we never lost any time. I lose track of the great artistic things happening now, that I can do now, because of what sparked my interest in the 90s. But more importantly , when I'm thinking about my high school and college graduations, I forget that I have my son's high school and college graduations to look forward to, my own doctoral graduation to look forward to, and sparking an interest in athletics and arts, travel and languages for my son, creating a better version of the caring and curious person I once was and hope to still be. <br />
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So that's my new obsession and my focus for 2014.<br />
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Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-2526521542192188402012-06-26T16:37:00.000-07:002012-06-26T16:37:15.663-07:00The Atlantic, FinalI've finally put together a cohesive thought so here goes. I'm going to think about two words in the title, "Why Women Still Can't Have It All": <i>have</i> and <i>all</i>.<br />
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1) Having things. I could go on a rant about capitalism. But as I sit here typing on a ridiculously expensive laptop with all the ridiculously expensive accessories, I'm going to just leave capitalism, as a whole, alone for the moment. I want to think more about it in terms of possessions and why our success in capitalism is based on how much we have. For most of you who know me, you know that I love music from the 90s and if it is anything current, it still sounds like it is from the 90s. There is a Pearl Jam song that if I ever get married, I would love to hear at my wedding, even though it isn't the most romantic, it is certainly very apt. The phrase in "Just Breathe" goes "I'm a lucky man, to count on both hands the ones I love." It popped in my head when I was thinking about "having it all" since I don't want to measure my success by how much I have, but rather how much I've loved, seen, laughed, inspired, mentored, etc. I told my son today that I was exercising because I wanted to make sure I could be around him for as long as possible. So while it meant that we couldn't play for an hour at that moment, we would be able to play for years later. And that's my "have."<br />
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2) All of it. When I was pregnant, I immediately thought of my friend's mother, an indigenous woman who has helped other women in their pregnancies. We didn't do typical doula things. Rather, we talked for hours at her home while picking vegetables in her large garden. She and her family have been composting and gardening for decades. I always left with enough vegetables for a week, or until my next visit. When my son was born, I needed some help with care and I thought of her and her other daughter who was beginning her third year of college. When I asked her daughter what she would like to paid for the summer, she came up with an extremely low amount. I said that I would never feel comfortable paying her that. She responded that she only worked in the summer for money she would need during the first semester of school. She said that she didn't need rent, food, or money for clothes and that this would just be money for an occasional movie or hanging out with friends. I said that I still felt bad about the amount. So she offered that she would keep my phone number, in case she needed a care package or advice about school and that would be more than enough. It reminded me of what her mother used to do when I was pregnant, with the vegetables and advice. It made me think differently about when it does come to "having" things, all is enough. <br />
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My dad used to take me, my brother, and my cousins on bike rides around the Bay on the weekends or to the zoo or one of the many things the Bay has to offer. We lived in a modest house and didn't a ton of things. We had an answering machine that my uncle made and my parents owned cars for decades. My brother and I joked about the one pair of shoes we got per school year until we started becoming avid runners; then it was two pairs. My parents never missed a parent/teacher night and my mother was notorious for showing up at school unannounced just to see what we were doing. She knew my teachers by their first names and they often chatted regularly in Spanish about life back home. They raised money for the school and showed up to all of our competitions and events. My dad once asked me if I would like to have the things that my friends had: the large house, nice cars, and designer clothes. At the time, that was "all." Before I could answer, he said that the large house would mean no furniture and parents who were dog tired and couldn't show up to things. He said that was one of the biggest things that disappointed him about this country--people came here, risking everything, just to work themselves to death to give their kids things they didn't need and probably didn't want. He said that while he would have preferred to raise us in Central America, we were here but that didn't mean we would be raised with American values, such as greed. <br />
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I think about an interview with Zach de la Rocha when he asked about being a vegetarian. He said "there is more than enough food out there to eat that I don't have to be a part of the death cycle of an animal." I was drawn to that statement in part because that was similar to my reasoning behind being a vegan for so many years and also because one can see how wanting, and desiring to have everything, has made people sick and unhappy. There is plenty of everything out there for all of us to have what we want, including the time to have what we need in our relationships, family, and friends. <br />
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I used to go to Nicaragua every year. I really looked forward to that trip. In part, it was a vacation. But it was also an opportunity to spend time with grandfather who has since passed. Prior to my visit, I would peruse my J.Crew catalog for the latest lounge, vacation wear and buy the newest sandals, bathing suits, and dresses to take with me. But in the two weeks of my trip, between hours on the beach, chatting with my grandfather, visiting my grandmother's grave, trying to guess the recipes of my favorite dishes, drinking local beer at the small bars, and visiting the elementary school, I didn't wear even half of the clothes. I actually left most of them behind. I thought I went on the trip having it all, but found that I gained it all while I was there.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-35457573364022415902012-06-25T10:35:00.004-07:002012-06-25T10:35:44.099-07:00The Atlantic, Part DeuxI now reconsider my previous position on the Atlantic article. I'm not mad at you, <a href="http://www.salon.com/2012/06/21/can_modern_women_have_it_all/singleton//">feminism</a>!Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-9787211794261249522012-06-22T23:37:00.000-07:002012-06-26T16:39:02.992-07:00The AtlanticI've been mulling over this <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/07/why-women-still-can-8217-t-have-it-all/9020/">article</a> from <i>The Atlantic</i>. And it seems as though I'm not the only one. I wanted to start this post making reference to the article since it might explain my absence from my blog for so long. The article strikes a cord with me because I feel like the last year, at minimum, has been about me trying to find that work/life balance, something that seems about as elusive as anything can be. I bought the actual magazine--I know that sounds odd on its own--while grocery shopping at Whole Foods, with my toddler asleep in the cart, having just come from a meeting about my leadership potential, a meeting to which I had to bring my son, who dutifully watched PBS on our iPad as if he knew mama was talking about our future right now so I need to be quiet. <br />
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Although I'd seen many Facebook posts about the article, no time seemed more appropriate to take the plunge and read what someone else was saying about what I was trying to figure out. One of the people who posted the link to the article is a former colleague from graduate school. She is about to begin a tenure-track position at a university. I gave up that possibility, in part due to my awareness that academia was not for me and the other part due to my committee feeling my pregnancy was too much of a distraction. I'll probably be bitter about that forever. I found it ironic though that the person who posted the link, and made a comment that this was something she was really thinking about now that she was beginning a pretty intense part of her career, is the same person who told me to stop complaining about my swollen feet and waddling during my second trimester because I wasn't "that pregnant" and later said that my family was evidence of my "lack of commitment" to my studies. Oh how the tides have turned. Interesting how that always seems to happen. <br />
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So I read "Why Women Still Can't Have It All" while my son was napping and did a quick inventory of who am I and where I'm trying to go. I'm attached to my iPad, as of late. The iBooks app is most used and has everything from the <i>50 Shades</i> trilogy to the most recent Toni Morrison novel and tons of books on management and leadership including <i>Moneyball</i> and <i>Steve Jobs</i> (I say it's a leadership book). The iTunes app has Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know" on repeat (you won't catch me saying I'm not bitter about my relationship break-up). And my P90X app is used everyday, thank you very much. But I started to think about what I would really like to be doing in my spare minutes to myself other than wondering what Christian Grey and Ana Steele are doing at the moment. I immediately thought of my comic and nothing else. I did some quick research and downloaded some apps including a writing app (I've often wondered why I like books with such crappy writing and considered how I could do a much better job in my comic). Other than educating young people in a traditional setting, using comedy as a learning tool is my other passion. And I got started writing my comic. <br />
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I then thought about something else from the article, specifically work hours, and how I can still have my passions and raise a son who doesn't go out and rob someone ten years from now. I'm smart enough to figure that out but I'll say, I don't have an answer right now. So when Lil O woke up and ate dinner, I decided we needed to work on his bball skills. He is going to be 3 soon and that isn't too early to start working on his defense and ball-handling. I said "Bubba, you're between me and the hoop (laundry basket) and I'm telling you that I'll fake left and come around you to the right. But if you're watching me, you'll know that I'm going to do that." He giggled but stared at my face. "Alright, I'm going to the left...uh-oh, now right" I said as he started running around me in circles. I then did my best slow motion lay-up into the laundry basket while saying "you left the hoop open" and he fell out laughing only interrupted by "you did it!!" And I thought, I definitely need to figure this out because I won't go another day without hearing that giggle.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-43301044692265561862011-01-19T23:37:00.000-08:002011-01-20T00:05:50.954-08:00The Social NetworkPeople often times ask me why I've been in school so long. When I talk about how I just like to learn, they never believe me. But I have to say, it's almost midnight and this is what I've been doing for the last four hours since the baby went to sleep:<br /><br />1. Finished watching "The Social Network."<br />2. Thought about the accuracy in film and how I didn't have the benefit of one of my favorite History Channel programs that dismantles the myths in movies.<br />3. Went on Wikipedia to do something not called research.<br />4. Spent a good amount of time on there, clicking around and reading this and that. I'm still not sure what final clubs are at Harvard, by the way. And why do they have to do all that secret ish? And on another note, I spent helllllllla days researching those Harvard secret societies once. But anyway...<br />5. Thought the best way to "research" would be to do so I farted around Facebook for a while. <br /><br />I saw an invitation for a viewing that I should attend this weekend; something else about a car accident that killed some wonderful people whom I never had the pleasure of meeting; something else about native lands being stolen...again. I saw in my list of friends a number of people who have passed recently and obviously could not take down their pages. I saw some "friends" who I haven't spoken to in so long and I frankly don't want to...And I thought, this thing is depressing! What's so good about opening the world to whatever communication deal Zuckerburg keeps saying. That mess is wack.<br /><br />And then I got to thinking about how the internet has actually changed the way we communicate, what we communicate and why we communicate. Some of it is surface--our answers are quick and void of feeling. My dad, for example, would never let us as kids say "I don't know" because he felt that we weren't taking the time to know. I don't even want to tell him about the time-efficiency in IDK. And some of it goes deeper--In high school, I used to practice telling jokes. It's a true science in reading people and understanding why we laugh: did they say "that's funny" or did they actually laugh? Now, I don't even make guesses because I won't know anyone's reaction in the blogworld! To something else entirely--how and why would I perpetuate the sort of falseness of my facebook friends in real life? Would I really attend a viewing for someone I haven't seen in fifteen years if I didn't see the outpouring of support on his Facebook wall? Would I be this discouraged about my supposed lack of academic success as I transition between programs if I didn't see the progress of my colleagues in their doctoral programs? And what does it say about us, as a people, not about our communication skills, but rather our narcissism, thinking everyone everywhere wants to know what we are doing and feeling, only the good things, or only the tremendously sad?Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-37246870006662645112010-11-17T18:03:00.000-08:002010-11-17T18:35:32.538-08:00MarinI know this may sound strange and keep it real, I've said some strange things before. But I'm feeling extra Black these days. I mean, I felt this way before, but lately, it's extra Black. There have been other times, like when I won the Gift of Blackness award in the third grade. That was definitely a Black moment. Or when I ran faster than my peers because, according to my teammate, Black people's muscle develop larger and much earlier. Extra Black that day mostly because dude had his thesis so laid out, I was starting to believe that ish! Feeling Black isn't part of the daily since I don't walk around with a mirror in front of my face. I notice other people who aren't Black and that almost seems stranger to me: it's raining, why isn't his hair curling up? I gave that "you know what I'm saying" look and didn't get a response--what a weirdo! Things like that.<br /><br />So I know it might seem like an obvious statement to say that I feel like that mirror is being held in front of me every time I step foot in Marin county. Marin is an interesting place. As you enter from the East Bay, you have to pass Chevron oil refineries, San Quentin on the left and the canal (home to the immigrants who clean the houses, mow the lawns, and mind the children) on the right. Next, you go over this hill and there it is, like you just came up on the Emerald City, Marin County. You can spit in any direction and find a multi-million dollar home, with the CEO of some mega-company or super celebrity or some other new money. Your sad face doesn't have to be too sad to get one of them to cut you a check for five figures. Their concern for the [insert one: whales, bald eagle, grass, or wind] is only matched by their concern for the mad obscure village in South America they just happened to visit during their last family vacay to Machu Pichu. I know I sound bitter, but the means-well set gets on my damn nerves, especially when I have to interact with them everyday. They don't make it a secret when they meet me and ask for my pedigree. When I tell them, there response is "oh, okay" and they proceed to introduce themselves. They'll write a check for education having gone to college just to meet their future husband, knowing jack shit about pedagogy, only that their bleeding heart needs some healing. <br /><br />The one thing that could possibly we worse than the mega-rich in Marin are the regular folk in Marin, the regular middle class folks, with a chip on their shoulder bigger than Mt. Tamalpais. Imagine being the school teachers, grocery clerks, pizza delivery people to the mega-rich, having to interact with their arrogance all damn day. You might sound slightly angry, annoyed, bitter...you might sound like me. But at the very least, I get to drive back to the East Bay, over a bridge with San Francisco on my right, the Port of Oakland in front of me, polluting the beautiful Bay in between. I've really been bitter for years: pissed off that I have to shop at Whole Foods for some decent food so I don't get some mystery cancer; angry that I have to travel hella far to get my hair products; annoyed that the "Obama is my homeboy" t-shirt only comes in 3X...but I used to have people around me who can share in this...and they aren't in Marin.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-10065717235478623542010-11-11T08:16:00.000-08:002010-11-11T08:47:15.308-08:00Darkness!I think about my identity these days in hindsight. I imagine working with school-aged young people and watching them develop their own identities would do that to someone. In a meeting with the students of color yesterday, they were creating cross-the-line statements to ask at their next general body meeting. The first statement was "Cross the line if someone accused you of being on financial aid." Some of them started to discuss all the different times this has happened to them erroneously, in a room with students who are actually on financial aid. I asked, "so what if someone is on financial aid--this place is damn expensive!" Real quick, on the expense point, let me give you some comparisons. When I was in undergrad, NYU was the most expensive BS you could buy (and it still is). The high school where I work now costs more than NYU did then. <br /><br />Back to the story. Some of the young people didn't understand my critique so I gave them an example. When I was a kid, everyone would say that I was Black. My response would be an emphatic "no I"m not!" as though something was terribly wrong with being Black. A more appropriate answer, and the one I use today, is "Yes I am and Black people come from all over the place." It reminded me also of the Dave Chappelle skit with Charlie Murphy recalling his days with Eddie Murphy and Rick James when Rick James kept calling the brothers "Darkness" because they were the darkest brothers in Hollywood at the time (this is before Wesley Snipes). Charlie Murphy's response? He punches Rick James. I thought black is beautiful; what's he punching dude for? And then I remembered the election, when everyone kept pushing, Obama isn't a Muslim, rather than saying what's wrong with being Muslim? Or how we correct young people now when they say "that's so gay"--What's wrong with being gay?<br /><br />And then I began thinking what messages these young folks of color are learning about what is wrong with their identities. As the token Darkness Adult on this campus, I feel it. All the time. To whiteness and wealth, Black is cool, because they don't encounter it aside from the images on cable. And with whiteness and wealth comes the idea that they have access to anything. So my dreads are just so cool, they have to have them too! And is that a rapper on her t-shirt? I need that t-shirt too! Did she say "what up, foo?" to that other Black kid? I'm going to say it too! I've watched these future CEOs, inventors, politicians get up in front of the entire campus and say "She right there, she my N..." or "I'm fit'na' hit that." While I, Adult Darkness, glance at all of the Youth Darkness (there aren't that many, it takes like a second) and we shake our heads, rub our chins, and shrug our shoulders. <br /><br />The group leaders of the people of color clubs began the year by listing all of the goals for the year. One stood out to me: I want them to know I am not like the Black kid on the corner. In a class where I visited, I confronted a student: what's wrong with the Black kid on the corner? "He's just ignorant." "Why?" "Because he can't pull his pants up." I looked at his sagging pants as the other students in the class looked confused. I could read their faces: isn't he one of them? They think you're one of them, I wanted to tell him. They notice that you drop the -r at the end of your words. They notice that you tip your hat to the side. They notice that you practice your dance moves at lunch time instead of buying the $10 organic, free-range entree that they did. They notice that your backpack isn't the newest, designer piece on the market. They notice that you take that bus back to Richmond at the end of the day. And they think it's so cool.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-61456293333761078052010-09-17T10:12:00.000-07:002010-09-17T10:53:39.624-07:00Where the heck have I been!?Dang. Most of my posts as of late have to do with me not putting up posts. So here is another one of those. But you know I love those top ten lists, so here is a top ten of things I have done and learned in the last few months. <br /><br />1. I've become super homies with RuPaul. I was trying to save a buck and ended up getting another cable provider (they aren't paying me so I'm saying which one). And this new cable provider happened to have a ton of new channels, including LoGo with a bunch of RuPaul shows. RuPaul's Drag Race and RuPaul's Drag U...love it! <span style="font-style:italic;">Everyone say "love"!</span> <br /><br />2. I'm also into satellite radio now with my super long commute into Richie Rich-ville each day. And I never thought I'd say, but I'm really liking Oprah Radio. I didn't really appreciate all the hype about her season premiere, just watching a bunch of people getting to go on a trip while my ass was on the couch. Not fun. But her radio channel, not so bad.<br /><br />3. I've renewed my love for Rachel Maddow. She's been doing a lot of great pieces on Don't Ask, Don't Tell and the Tea Party. Really insightful ish. <br /><br />4. And my last thing about TV...what's up with those Salahis on the Real Housewives of DC? I am thoroughly confused.<br /><br />5. California: we are jacked up when it comes to the governor's spot this next election. I can't stand Jerry Brown. Bill Maher once said that the so-called liberals of today would have been the moderates a decade ago and Jerry Brown is no exception. Trust me, I'm not asking for someone so far to the left that s/he doesn't wear shoes to work and lives in a tree-house in the redwoods somewhere, but dang, can I get someone that will have a NaS vision for the prisons, mixed with a little Moby on the environment (really, not too much), with some Peter Tosh "legalize it" vibe leading to some "border? what border?" MEChista stuff? I mean, is that too much?<br /><br />6. PhDs...I'll save my commentary for that later. I will say this tough: many of you know I have a weird compulsion that comes up when I'm super stressed out. I start brushing my teeth like a maniac. Yes, it is weird. Currently even strangers are stopping me to comment on how white my teeth are...<br /><br />7. Babies are the cutest people on the planet. I can't tell you the guilt I have when I think I'm not doing the right thing by my little man. But, I would like to edit a previous point about making your own baby food. Baby daddy does that...and let me tell you, nothing kills baby cute more than what happens when they've eaten too many vegetables. I make this same mistake every day: hey, did he poop? And then I put my nose right up against his bottom. When I'm done tearing up, convulsing, and gagging, he has already added to it. Vegetables are bad. <br /><br />8. Working up in Richie Rich-ville has definitely highlighted a number of inconsistencies I have with whiteness. For example, I felt that I got dressed up today because I put on my penny loafers with my ripped jeans and hoodie. Some kid is missing school today for a horse show. My response was "what's that?" Answer: Equestrian. Question: Ok....what's that? I feel like not being too in the know on these matters maintains some of my street cred. <br /><br />9. I've been making fun of Bay Area liberals for so long that I turned into one. Dammit. I was driving the Prius, with my iPhone hooked up, listening to some multi-genre, multi-ethnic band from the city, eating my organic fruit from some farm in Sonoma, with my mixed kid sitting in the back, using my free hand to re-twist a lock that is conditioned with nuts and berries probably from that same farm in Sonoma and I said to myself "look at yourself! Get a grip!" And decided we should have McDonald's for dinner. Had a hard time finding a damn McDonald's in Richie Rich-ville though. Dammit.<br /><br />10. Upset with myself about becoming too much like the liberals I make fun of out here, I decided to do a clean-up of my iPhone apps. I figured if I didn't whip it out all the time, I wouldn't be such a token, right? I couldn't part with the NPR one, or even iObama or Obama '08 (I need to know what baby daddy alternate is up to). I also couldn't say goodbye to the Huffington Post app or Rachel Maddow. How else would I know what Sean Penn thinks about the world? I'm keeping my Constitution app in case I need to reference it with the cops. Not sure how that scenario will play out but I figure having a digital copy of it wouldn't hurt. Kept Pandora for the indy music. All I could get rid of were the NBA, NCAA, and NFL apps and that was only because the ESPN app has all that. I'm ashamed, people. I need an iPhone addict hotline. Holler if you know one.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-56032985900672448852010-02-25T12:04:00.000-08:002010-02-25T12:23:31.127-08:00CrushesLet me first start by saying I know I'm not the flyest player on the block. Don't get all "<br />V has self-esteem issues" and start posting overly positive comments on the blog. I'm just staying grounded in reality. I know I have a different look but I know it's one that folks have to get used to most of the time. I also know that when it comes to crushes, dude (because it's never women) is usually much older or much younger but rarely in my age bracket. With all that said, I have a real problem with crushes. Men and boys always have crushes on me. I don't really know why--my charming personality or the knowledge that I will beat dude in a race or my lack of make-up most of the time--but something puts the mojo out there. <br /><br />So one student has been waiting for me after class with questions and debate points. Once, B came to meet me after class and dude was like "how do you know each other" all upset and what not. So the other day, it was sooooo cold and rainy in Berkeley and after class I was really trying to make moves to catch the train back to the 'burbs and dude is waiting for me again after class. And he starts walking with me to the BART station. So I stop and say "you really can't walk with me to the train," and socially-awkward Cal student that he is decides that means we can just stand in the pouring rain and cold and chat it up about African colonialism. I answered one question and when dude was moving to the next question, mad ignoring my shivering, I was like "yo, I have to catch this train" and then walked away. <br /><br />When I first started my teaching career, this happened quite a bit. I can't tell you how uncomfortable and annoying it is to have a bunch of twelve year old kids trying to holler. Or better yet, when I was doing my student teaching and I was only twenty and some of my students were nineteen, it was all bad. Once when I was teaching high school, one little man said "you're telling me if you saw me at the club, you wouldn't at least kick it with me?" And I said "you don't have a job and you live with your moms." And that did it. I had to bring him down. But when I got into a car accident on the way to school one day and was on the side of the road near school with a flat tire, that same little man did all that he could to help me out. <br /><br />So I do what I have to do to tone down the sexy, make my jokes less funny, if that's even possible, and act aloof whenever possible. And now I'm off to class...Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-14926035404298748532010-02-22T18:54:00.000-08:002010-02-22T19:08:56.871-08:00My (Omar's) Memoirs: Chp 1--Predictions"My (Omar's) Memoirs" may look like an acronym for M.O.M. meaning she is really behind all this but it's not. I mean, she's cool and all--letting me use her blog, giving me life--but this little player's wings need to fly. I've got things to say, people to meet. And I was thinking about those people, you know, who would be my road dogs when I'm a teenager. I figure if I hang out here in the Bay, I'll be kicking it with some hip hop heads: Max with the Jew fro and Ronni from the Phils. We might even start a multi-genre, multi-ethnic band. But that's if I stay out this way. I'm thinking if I end up in Santa Cruz--if pops has his way--I'll be stuck in a tree somewhere chillin' in a cloud of smoke. That could be cool. I should save some of my teething rings and pacifiers then, in case I start tripping too hard. Fortunately, I'm cute so I can get away with anything, at least now that's the case.<br /><br />These past few months have been cool. Everything was quite a shock a few months ago. Lots to get used to now. I heard my moms complaining about my poops like I don't have a sense of smell or something. That's when I play with her belly and make it jiggle so we're even. <br /><br />Omar out.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-30925556184297566672010-02-18T16:02:00.000-08:002010-02-18T17:01:05.742-08:00Sandino BabyI've been thinking about creating another blog about baby stuff but I can barely keep up with this one, so why am I tripping. <br /><br />But I do have thoughts, and they come just about daily, with respect to trying to raise a little person in a somewhat natural way. With capitalism, we often times celebrate the success of McDonald's but a rarely critical of the fatal effects of consuming their products. I say that just so that we can keep this in mind when thinking about baby--these innocent little people who soak up the good and bad quite easily--and the importance of rejecting all the crap people try to sell mothers. So in keeping with what I do best, here is a top ten list of considerations for all us who are new mommies, either biologically or because you know me.<br /><br />10. Indigenous peoples aren't pushing their babies around in a $500 stroller or putting baby to sleep in a thousand dollar crib. The body is quite amazing in providing all that mommy and baby need to support each other. So yes, this may mean that you catch a glimpse of my chi-chi on the block one day, but dang that breast milk is free and is the best for baby and mom. It even cures most baby ailments. Serious. Smear a bit of chi-chi milk on baby's skin issue and voila! Gone. As far as the wide array of other junk, someone you know probably knows someone who knows someone who has one you can use in the meantime in between time. Or when you get that crib, you can lend it to someone you know who knows someone who needs it.<br /><br />9. I might have lost a small fortune on creams and oils claiming to get rid of the river map of stretch marks on my belly. Lesson learned. Nothing can be done about those and it's a great way to regulate MILF behaviors such as sporting my string two-piece at the beach/club/grocery store.<br /><br />8. I definitely had a slight panic attack when my son's fussiness was completely curbed by the wide array of funny-looking creatures on the boob tube. TV-watching to obsession might be contagious apparently. And I have a few letters to write, first to Yo Gabba Gabba. I mean, I'm glad to see the homie gainfully employed but do we have to put dude in a bright orange jumpsuit that's mad tight with the 80s boombox? And why can't we figure out how to make starting the revolution a great topic for young-ins rather than saying "pardon me?" I might say "pardon me PIG! I will not be further displaced by your racist policies" perhaps. It could be a week long series. But that's just me.<br /><br />7. If you are deciding between disposable or non-disposable diapers, one week of disposables should provide the answer. The amount of garbage that disposable diapers create has to convince even the most conservative Republican that something aint right. I mean, it's a lot of garbage!! There are a number of biodegradable disposable diapers (I recommend Earth's Best and Seventh Generation). But don't depend on those because garbage is still garbage even if one is quicker to break down. And sometimes things are too biodegradable. As far as non-disposables, I really like gDiapers. You can flush or compost the center and keep re-using the shells. Bumgenius is cool but dang if they don't stink after a bit. And regular old cloth diapers work too. Just be willing to change those bad boys frequently. <br /><br />6. Try the best you can to encourage your peoples not to buy clothes, trinkets, and gadgets for baby without asking you what's up first. I know, this isn't always possible. Trust me, I have a plethora of clothes that don't and won't fit and used teethers that I refuse to put in baby's mouth since no one knows who owned the thing first. With respect to clothes, baby may or may not fit into his size and some manufacturers account for large diaper sizes better than others. You also may not really know as baby will have random growth spurts. And although folks know not to interject their opinion regarding raising baby verbally, I've gotten enough religious books and tees to get the picture. Had they asked, we most definitely could have avoided some awkwardness. <br /><br />5. Taking a hint from my new homie, Michael Pollan, start baby out right when it comes to first foods. Remember that fruits and veggies are good because of their skins and peels. So that stuff in the jar, pure sugar and no good fiber. Use your food processor, stick your organic apple in it and call it a day. Pay more for better food now rather than the doctor bill for all the diseases we've created as a result of our crappy diets. Babies don't need juice. It's just sugar. Same for a lot of those foods in the jar. Make it yourself and keep the peels on.<br /><br />4. I've come to realize that the trophy for liberal Bay Areans is the mixed baby. I wanted to slap a number of people before I realized that, including a nurse at the delivery and a bunch of people living their natural foods fantasy at Whole Foods. If Barack Obama and my baby convince you that we've come a long way then that's cool but keep it to yourself. I'm a little annoyed with all the attention.<br /><br />3. This country needs to work out its problem with nursing and motherhood. I got a whopping $100/month for maternity leave. Obviously, I had to go back to work after a few months only to find absolutely no where to pump in peace so baby has to have formula sometimes. I also can hardly pump since as a teacher, I can't get away for twenty minutes unless it happens to be during my designated break time. I realize now that I should have scheduled class around my pumping schedule but I didn't know what that would be months ago. So I am pretty uncomfortable most of the time. <br /><br />2. Trust your instincts. You can probably figure it out without referring to some book. And if you want some confirmation, ask your homie.<br /><br />1. You are always doing something for baby. Don't let anyone tell you that you or imply that you are being a bad mother or ignoring your baby. Even painting your toenails is doing right by baby because a calm, happy mommy is a good mommy.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-29739627734583761932009-09-08T13:15:00.000-07:002009-09-08T13:34:57.473-07:00Don't Stay in School!!!I recently discovered that my obsession with all things MSNBC is pretty typical of grad students (there goes my attempt at being original). I used to be addicted to Democracy Now, but dude started getting on my nerves during the election. I basically felt that he, like many Latinos, had selective amnesia when it came to all that good that the Clintons have done. I mean, NAFTA is the greatest thing ever for Latin America. It even led to CAFTA-DR! Thanks guys! And then after the election, the constant Obama criticism. Don't get me wrong, Obama isn't perfect to me either: I think he should out of Iraq AND Afghanistan, for example. But I also recognize that the president has to have some savvy when it comes his job. He can't be super liberal, living in the trees for over a year, and trying to make decisions. Sorry can't happen.<br /><br />But I do believe, like Bill Maher, that Obama needs to grow a set. The most recent controversy about his speech for school children is the perfect example. Conservatives are like five year olds, complaining just to complain, especially when the complaint is absolutely ridiculous: I don't want my kids listening to the president. To me, that was pure disrespect on a racist tip. But the hottest part came when they asked to read the speech beforehand. I mean, can you guess how this country might be different if we demanded to see Bush's speeches beforehand? We would have saved ourselves a whole lot of embarrassment, for one. We wouldn't have to fake accents when we are abroad. Think about how nice that would have been. <br /><br />So if that wasn't the worst part, the Obama Administration actually released a copy. Fuck that. No other president has been asked to do that. None other. And these guys want to play all nice and actually do what these folks say!! I'm just floored. They demand that the president show them a copy of a speech and he does it, like a child. He's the president. Get over it. <br /><br />On television, there were all these school-children discussing the speech. Much of them, like me, were wondering what the big deal was. I can make a guess: The president is Black and a nice chunk of the people believe that he couldn't be qualified or trusted. Perhaps he cheated his way through Harvard. Maybe he was just so charismatic that Harvard Law Review fell for it, but not you, conservative Southern Republican. He might be the president, but he's still Black and needs to be checked, apparently. And young people, who are all naive and trusting, may fall for it without the protection of conservative parents.<br /><br />They asked for his birth certificate. He gave it to them when he didn't have to. A poll came out saying that a majority of the people who still don't believe Obama was born in the U.S. are either unsure or positively sure that Hawaii is not a state. Why are we responding to these folks? No wonder they took exception to a speech about staying in school. <br /><br />It just makes me sad that they've run out of things to be mad out--they really ran out of things a long time ago--but they are still trying, to the country's detriment. Player has work to do, let him do it. And Obama, quit responding to these fools. Now if we can get Michelle to quit showing her arms in public!!Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-16896785950376668772009-06-03T14:06:00.000-07:002009-06-03T14:29:39.411-07:00RobI'm not sure how it happened but I've become obsessed with Robert Pattinson, the vampire Edward Cullen from <span style="font-style:italic;">Twilight</span>, <span style="font-style:italic;">New Moon</span>, etc. I'm actually concerned right now since someone's Google search might turn up this posting and then a ton of teenagers are going to be disappointed when they look at this post and don't see some British guy with a sultry, vampire expression on his face pop up. <br /><br />I'm blaming it on being pregnant and over-sensitive and tired of reading boring academic books about racism here, there, everywhere. I've been putting myself to sleep most nights reading about Edward and Bella working through their love affair while fighting off all the haters. But I'm trying to push past the insanity so here are ten reasons why I need to stop (hopefully this works):<br /><br />10. Reading <span style="font-style:italic;">Capitalism and Slavery</span> and other I Hate Whitey books got me fewer distasteful looks in the swanky coffee shops in Montclair than <span style="font-style:italic;">Eclipse</span>. Twelve-year olds can be brutal.<br /><br />9. There has to be a book on pregnancy or child-rearing that I haven't read yet. Well, there's the Jon & Kate series but they're pretty wack.<br /><br />8. The books lead to a movie obsession that I definitely have to stop...after the last one comes out.<br /><br />7. Most of those actors really aren't all that good. I really want to slap some feeling into Bella sometimes. I mean, it wouldn't be the same if Sean Penn managed to play Edward and Susan Sarandon as Bella but dang folks, a couple acting classes wouldn't hurt. Just something like, this is my hurt face and this is my sad face...something!<br /><br />6. Brian might be getting annoyed with all my "well, Edward wouldn't do that" sidebars. Poor guy. He also once told me that people told him that he looked like Brad Pitt so I'm not mad about bringing him down a few notches even if it's with a fictional character. <br /><br />5. There are too many white people in that book. I know it's the Pacific Northwest but dang, someone had to have moved from Portland up to Washington state at some point.<br /><br />4. I'm actually angry with Jacob, the fictional shape-shifter. It's embarrassing and shameful.<br /><br />3. It's not like I don't have anything to read or work on. And then there's my comic strip and the thought of going back to stand-up comedy. I have this great bit in mind about this pregnant, 30-something, Black women who reads Stephenie Meyer books everyday...oh...wait.<br /><br />2. Whenever kids have persuaded me to get into what they are into, I have been sadly disappointed; this really shouldn't be an exception. Sorry Harry Potter and all those "Black interest" books at Barnes and Noble. It's great that the kids are reading but dang...<br /><br />1. There is a bit too much religious judgment and hints of homophobia in the text that the filmmakers have wisely avoided thus far. I have to skip over any mention of saving her virtue and parental worries about her not having a boyfriend. Dos mucho.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-18934204303354783432009-06-03T13:38:00.000-07:002009-06-03T14:05:45.693-07:00Dread-lock womanSo I have to say that every woman sporting a natural do really wants a healthy, fast-growing head of hair. The woman with dreads is no exception. I'll also say that pre-natal vitamins really do the trick. I used to do just about everything and my hair grew relatively quickly. But now I feel like I can see it growing, right before my very eyes. I quite literally can't keep up with the twisting and some of the locks have like three or four inches of new, unlocked growth. It's fantastic. The only dilemma is that I can now see the end of some of my locks and mama isn't too happy about the way they look. I have a two inch rat tail looking thing next to my keyboard right now. I cut it off the other day...from one of the locks in the back. And you know this neat-freak, germ-a-phobe wasn't too happy about that.<br /><br />My parents have always pushed me to have natural hair but I also have a lot of hair. My mom used to take hours to wash and comb my hair on the weekends, hair that at one point went down my back when stretched to its limit. Once when my mom was in the hospital for a few days, my dad took me to a salon since he didn't know what to do with my hair. The ladies did some major OT with a blow dryer and curling iron (no chemicals that time) and put my hair up. The next day, in my Catholic school uniform, running around with the boys, my classmates kept stopping me to talk about how long my hair was. It was a major difference from the usual braids with ribbons pinned to the top of my head. My mom used to wash my hair on weekends. It took hours. Sometimes she would have her friend come over and braid my hair into really small, intricate designs. That took the entire weekend. By the time I was in middle school, my mom was really tired of combing my hair and she took me to my brother and dad's barber shop. It all came off. I cried on the way back from the barber shop. And I started wearing earrings.<br /><br />I didn't have long hair again until now. I experimented with braids a few times. One person asked how my hair grew so long over the weekend. I looked at her, waiting for a smile or something to acknowledge the existence of hair weaves, but nothing. So I told her that I got Miracle Gro plant food from the Thrifty's at the corner. The next day, she told me she bought some and was waiting for her hair to grow too. I can't help everybody. I really can't. She needed to learn that lesson. <br /><br />For a long period of time I had a relaxer. That was a pain, especially running track. If we had practice in the pool, I would basically have to walk around all day with a mop on the top of my head. And with all the practices in the sun and sweating all the time, I had to wash my hair a lot...a major no-no for relaxed hair. And the expense. Perms cost a lot. The shop will charge upwards of $80 once a month. You could get a box of perm at Target for about $10 and become handy with a pair of scissors and curling iron like I did but run the risk of perm burn after perm burn on the forehead and ears. Not cute. <br /><br />When I went off to the Peace Corps, I realized that if they didn't have running water, I didn't want to risk my perm and more perm burn so I cut it all off. Bald again. I was bald for a short time when I was in undergrad; that's when my brief modeling stint came about, looking mad androgynous. For a long time after the Peace Corps, I sported a fro, sometimes to unbelievable heights. I would braid it at night to get the curls out. In the summer, when I wasn't working with kids in schools and their parents who were bugging me about being too young, I would bleach the ends and dye the tips red, blue, purple...whatever Manic Panic I could grab. <br /><br />I wasn't the best at keeping my hair in good shape. A classmate of mine at UCLA sat me down one day and showed me all the things I would need to keep natural hair healthy. I was shocked. My Nicaraguan mom with her fine hair did not have any idea! It wasn't long after that that I locked my hair, knowing what I needed to do to keep my hair clean (not easy) and healthy. I have to say out of everything that I've ever done to my hair, it looks the best this way, like it was meant to be locked.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-6128597475706276382009-04-22T12:01:00.000-07:002009-04-22T12:23:50.166-07:00PregnancyWhoa! Where have I been?! Pregnant. I pretty much blame everything, good or bad, on the fetus in my ever-expanding belly! Oh, I'm glowing? That's the baby. Did I forget to hand something in? Baby. Attitude problem? Well, I'm only getting ready to give birth so excuse me!! <br /><br />I've had some really good days but mostly, I've been in some real pain. In the beginning, I was feeling awful: headaches, nausea, very tired and emotional. The back pain started around then but in the second trimester, the headaches and backaches became something different. One week, I was in excruciating pain: my abs felt like I was back in my track days doing a million crunches a day; my back and tailbone just weren't trying to participate in anything; and hips...like one of those Jigsaw movies when dude puts a contraption on the victim's hips and goes for it. And then it was over and I looked down and I was officially showing. The baby had moved.<br /><br />Showing has been interesting for me, because--keeping it real--my stomach hasn't been in the best of conditions as of late. So when I knew I wasn't showing, folks would pat my gut and say "ahhhh, baby!" And I would just think, dang V, you have to get it together after the baby is born. I must also admit that I was showing way before the books said one would. But those pats when I was about six or eight weeks...all bad. <br /><br />Anyway, here is a list of the top ten things I didn't know until I was pregnant:<br /><br />10. Suddenly my mom didn't have any issues during pregnancy including a labor that lasted all of twenty minutes...both times.<br /><br />9. Those stores don't grow a heart just because you are trying to have a baby. As a matter of fact, they really try to rob you blind with a lot of cutsie crap that no kid of mine would sport as long as I have anything to say about it.<br /><br />8. I am really not liking the return of my acne from 1990. <br /><br />7. Everything suddenly becomes a hazard: pants that are too long one might trip; every food item imaginable including Subway sandwiches; and non-organic food (Brian's addition). And if you have a mother like mine, you can't even walk in the rain or she'll report you to Child Services. <br /><br />6. Reaching for a glass on the top shelf causes breach babies.<br /><br />5. Wearing pants that cut across your belly will cause the baby to be born with a line across her/his head.<br /><br />4. The reason a tiny baby arm doesn't pop out while you are on the toilet is because a jelly plug is in the way.<br /><br />3. My cravings for potstickers mean that I am having a Chinese baby.<br /><br />2. I have all kinds of belly-marks, including a dark line that runs the length of my belly, that make me keep my belly pictures to myself. <br /><br />1. The gas!Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-16274716146594392952009-02-24T18:18:00.000-08:002009-02-24T18:28:12.556-08:00Sorry Party PeopleThe hiatus was totally unplanned. I had mega events happening in the vida including a move and oh yeah, grad student ish, that I completed neglected my public! I'll be back soon. <br /><br />A few last words about the inauguration: hella dope even in the cold! There was a great energy and I mean that in the Bay hippy sense. It was a good time and I may consider doing it again in four years. As a politics-junkie, I must admit I felt like some kind of groupie during the ceremony with remarks like "oh look, there's Rahm Emanuel" or "Get Bill away from the Bush twins!" I was surprised to see the Governator there although he is so Hollywood, it makes perfect sense that he would. I was looking for Palin but not luck. I was surprised to see how feeble McCain looks when he can't control camera angles. Let me tell you, dude is mad hunched over and slow-moving. I was a bit worried about him in that cold. Really, I was. Just because I wouldn't vote for him, doesn't mean I want him to fall out in front of millions of people. <br /><br />I am concerned that Pres. Sexy is looking a bit haggard these days. Not too much though; he still has that swagger. Thinking back to eight years ago, Pres. Hick was on vacation for like a year so I'm thinking that Pres. Mmmm Mmmm Good could take more days off. He has done a ton of things in a month, so it's all good with me. <br /><br />More to come...Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-74854848906817653472009-01-17T18:32:00.000-08:002009-01-17T18:40:27.281-08:00The Inauguration, Day 2I have so many questions. There are definitely going to be a lot of people in DC: Target is sold out of air mattresses and Washington Sports Club has never seen such a crowd. So I wonder how well DC is doing, economically speaking. i wonder how many restaurants and bars have changed things up for this weekend. I wonder how many local folks have been inconvenienced. <br /><br />But who cares?! I'm having a good time. There are so many parties, it's hard to hit up a bad one. And we can look at it in the opposite way: there are so many parties, they couldn't all possibly be any good. I'm also enjoying my new venture: trying all drinks named after the President-elect. I am getting drunk pretty quickly.<br /><br />Tomorrow starts the super big time events including the concert at the Lincoln Memorial with Bono and the Jonas Brothers. I'm not going for the music.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-24957765979332845052009-01-16T10:04:00.000-08:002009-01-16T10:23:05.059-08:00The Inauguration, Day 1First, I haven't been to DC in a bit. Actually, I've only been to DC twice in my life, once for Peace Corps training before we left and then for my cousin's wedding. I've always liked the city, although I'm not a fan of East Coast weather: summer time stickiness, winter time freeze. And they are having record cold and I just left a place with record heat. I'm miserable. <br /><br />As soon as I arrived, many of my friends hit me up to tell me they are in town--the homies from grad school at UCLA, my cousin from NYC who does non-profit work in education, my cousin's, where we are staying who got his MBA from Harvard, the other homie doing her PhD at Chicago, and my former classmate working for the Treasury Department--and I realized, we're the 2009 edition of the Urban League with Barack Obama as our fearless leader. We are somewhere between the Claire and Cliff Huxtable with a little Denise and Sandra mixed in. All in grad school or holding those ivy league and advanced degrees in hand. All having traveled for miles and miles to see the epitome of Black, urban and education officially become the president. This revelation is new to me although labels like Buppy (Black yuppy) are not. In our defense, we aren't your typical Black elitist: conservative and in love with Jesse Jackson. Rather, you'll see us at a march, a museum, and the mall: liberal and the farmers' market, Sankofa and bohemian, natural hair and The Boondocks. Well, at least that's me.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-17758763620498581752009-01-10T21:02:00.000-08:002009-01-10T21:29:06.157-08:00Gaza and GrantI was at a demonstration this week, across the street from my house, for Oscar Grant--a young unarmed Black man shot by BART police. Soon after I left the demonstration, some other people left to march and soon after a "riot" ensued. I say "riot" just because I'm not too trust-worthy of the media and regular folks' opinions of such matters. There were looters and many businesses, some owned by people of color, were destroyed, but I'm not sure if "riot" is the appropriate term. <br /><br />I didn't know what happened after the peaceful portion of the demonstration until the following day. And I was shocked. A few things stood out: the quotes from people who destroyed the businesses, saying things like "Oscar Grant lost his life; they could lose a little store;" and the folks from "Revolution Books" in Berkeley in the mix. Both things pissed me off. We never seem to get what solidarity means or even having someone's back, in either case. We hurt each other and ourselves. In the case of "Revolution Books," it sickens me (of course assuming this is even true) that these elders weren't looking out for the youngsters of color on the street, now with criminal records if they didn't have one already.<br /><br />When I was working with the young people today, they naturally had a lot to say about Grant. And I let them talk for a while. They argued about whether the cop had a 9mm or a 35mm. Definitely a 35mm, one said, and the rest agreed. They knew this based on the fuzzy video recording and their extensive knowledge of handguns. They live in Oakland. They argued about the type of cuffs the police used, plastic or metal. Well, he wouldn't be able to move his arms that way if they were metal, one said, and they all agreed. They argued about his record and how quickly BART police would find out that information compared to Oakland P.D. They argued about the different markings on police cars and how you know the rank of the officer. They argued about police jurisdictions and tactics. They live in Oakland. I stared at them amazed, shocked really. This is their reality. And I looked at the assignment I had for them to practice reading comprehension, a letter from Rachel Corrie, one that she wrote just a month before a bulldozer made in the United States ran her over in Palestine.<br /><br />So I asked the kids if they knew what was happening in Gaza and if they knew about Palestine and Israel. They didn't. I explained. In my mind I kept thinking about the posters at the demonstration earlier that week, comparing Gaza and Oakland. At the time, I was a bit unsure about the comparison. Then we read Corrie's letter where she talks about how the school children feel, never knowing if they will be bombed, not having a safe place to go, always cautious. <br /><br />"What does she mean when she says 'global power structure'?" I asked. "That the U.S., the government, forever be meddling with people. Here too, you know? I mean, folks trying to party on New Years and stay safe, so they take the BART. But then they get shot there too. Folks over there too...getting shot for not doing anything."Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-88085742360042991312009-01-05T12:04:00.000-08:002009-01-05T12:31:18.754-08:00Stimulus PackageHave you ever missed an episode or two of your favorite program? Ended up wondering who Mr. Big is or why some new person is living in the house or what your favorite Baltimore detective's name is. Well, I've missed an episode of "Stimulus Package": most likely the episode that talks about why rich people get a check that I have to pay for and I'm still broke. <br /><br />As you all know, Obama is my road dog. But like most of road dogs, you should be able to call them out: Rev Warren, bad decision; stimulus package, bad decision. I just can't figure out how lending money, with nearly no strings attached, to people and companies who constantly mismanage money is supposed to help anybody. And don't get me started on car companies--they need money every ten years or so and they still can't figure it out. I am really, really curious if dude from Ford, after driving the Escape Hybrid to DC from Detroit, was like "dang, this car sucks!" By the way, SUV hybrids are faux hybrids that make the Prius look like a Nova (price-wise).<br /><br />I'll admit: I'm a little bitter. I once owned a home. In the hills...almost, mega backyard, lots of fruits trees, with a massive kitchen. It was hard to keep, but I was just at what I could afford. Besides, the mortgage company a.k.a. thieves, said I could refinance after a few months when the house had some more value. But I was laid off before then. Once I could get the thieves to return my calls, I found that the bank was unwilling to negotiate anything. So this player had to foreclose on the fresh house and file for bankruptcy. Even though by then I already had a new job, the bank still was hating, unwilling to negotiate, being mean, and outright lying in some cases. But I didn't know better. Watching the news, I get hella mad because if all of this happened a year later, I could have been eligible for some federal money or the bank would have been willing to negotiate. Now I can't do jack crap since my credit is doggy-doo, at least for a tiny bit longer. The only thing that makes me smile is that I'm certain the thieves are broke too, assuming I wasn't the only one and the banks aren't willing to do business with them and they aren't eligible for stimulus money. I am mad that the bank (Chase, by the way) really doesn't seem to be hurting, and if they start hurting, they can complete a really short application to get that remedied.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-37833705560294419752009-01-03T17:27:00.000-08:002009-01-03T17:55:48.117-08:00Vielka's Guide to the Movies: The ReaderLike my cousin after "Terminator 2," I left this moving saying this was a damn good movie. After talking to some folks, I have to qualify that. The movie discusses moral dilemmas of all sorts. It begins ten years after Germany surrenders in World War II when a fifteen-year-old, Michael, becomes ill and Hanna, in her mid-30s, helps him out. Months later, he goes to thank her, with his little crush, and they begin to get it on. After a while, they exchange names (what the...) and plans: before they do anything, he has to read to her. The affair goes on for months and one day, Hanna up and leaves. Years later, when Michael is in law school, he sees Hanna again, on trial for war crimes. Hanna was an SS guard at a concentration camp. The other defendants basically put Hanna out to dry, but she could save herself, and Michael could to, but that would mean they both would have to reveal her secret. Neither of them do and Hanna goes to prison for a long, long time. <br /><br />There are a ton a moral questions, the two most obvious ones being what Hanna does as an SS guard and Michael keeping her secret knowing it would help her out with sentencing if he would just say something. The dilemma in the movie is that you don't want to feel sorry for the Nazi working in the camp. It's like in "Roots" when you get the back story on the slave captors. I don't care if you can't find a job, this shouldn't have been your job. In many ways, it seems like Hanna and Michael feel that way, like she should serve a long sentence, and that's why they keep that secret. The movie-makers don't want you to forget about the victims either. You get a nice tour of a camp at one point. There are two survivors of Hanna's camp, both particularly unforgiving. But I'm not mad at them for that.<br /><br />I have a distaste for certain movies: white people doing all that they can to end all that they messed up in slavery movies, Civil Rights movies, Africa movies, and white teacher/ folks of color classroom movies...the list is really endless. I am going to put Holocaust movies in that category. Most Jewish Holocaust movies deal with one person saving her/himself, leaving hella people behind or they make a hero out of someone that is mad questionable (Oscar Schindler). Watching those movies, you would really think that like ten people avoided the camps while everyone else was like, which train do I get on? So not true. <br /><br />In the beginning, I said that I like this movie. I do because I don't think of it as a Holocaust movie. As the audience, we aren't privy to the lives of the Jews and other victims. The movie is about all of us and what we DON'T do, forever watching things happen and not doing anything. We watch Bush 43 do the most insane mess, but we don't impeach him and try him for war crimes. We know about sweatshops, but we keep shopping...and so on. For me, the movie really made me question all the things that we watch happen and try to play innocent bystander, on this whole, this is what I was supposed/ ordered/ made to do. Michael might have been on his keep a secret tip because he got his feelings hurt years back, but he learned to regret that mess. Unfortunately, folks died while everyone was figuring stuff out.<br /><br />Kate Winslet is awesome and the actor that plays Michael is great too. One more crotch or breast shot would have made this XXX though. By the way, every time I hear about how voluptuous Winslet is and then I see her on the boob tube looking hella thin, so thin you forget she gave birth TWICE, I want to just smack someone. <br /><br />This is a must-see.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-58009281685785318012009-01-03T17:08:00.000-08:002009-01-03T17:27:04.234-08:00Vielka's Guide to the Movies: Doubt"Doubt" is the film adaptation of the play, looking at a priest in New York City and his questionable relationship with a black student, the school's first non-White student. The story takes place in 1964, after Kennedy's assassination and in the belly of the Civil Rights Movement and Black Power Movement. The timing is key. <br /><br />The priest starts by discussing how people are bonded by doubt, making reference to Kennedy. This triggers a nun, the principal, played by Meryl Streep, to have doubts about the priest's relationships with the students. She puts the other nuns on watch, and soon one on nun notices the supposed strange relationship with a student. When the principal confronts the priest about the relationship, he denies it, and the rest of the movie takes on a cat and mouse feel. In the end, the priest leaves the church and the audience never finds out if he did anything or what he did. It's nerve-racking, but whether or not the priest did anything is not the question; the question is why do we, as the audience, think he did.<br /><br />We can automatically think about homosexuality, the church, and molestation on their own. But that is our contemporary setting and thinking. This is 1964 and the student is black. Although Phillip Seymour Hoffman gives a spectacular performance, my favorite of the movie is Viola Davis. She is in the movie all of seven minutes at the most; I'm sure any less she wouldn't even be considered a supporting actress. But those seven minutes draw you in like nothing else and she raises some of the most thought-provoking questions of the movie, as the student's mother. We find out that the student's father beats him. We find out that his father doesn't like him, we assume because the young man is gay. We find out that the young man had to switch schools because everyone at the public schools were tripping off him. And sadly, she brings up the question of if the priest is gay and doing something with her son, who cares, since at least it means her son will be treated nicely. I couldn't help but match her tears at that one.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-30585765650114942572009-01-03T16:45:00.000-08:002009-01-03T17:07:54.855-08:00Vielka's Guide to the Movies: MilkMilk discusses the political life of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay politician. He was assassinated by Dan White, another city supervisor. Although a bit of research or listening to Fresh Air would have gotten you this far, I got sort of a "Titanic" feel--I knew he was going to be shot, but I really didn't want him to. I admit, a salty discharge aka, a tear, fell from my eye at that point. Great work Gus Van Sant! I also had a moment of thinking back to "Philadelphia," and wanting to get into opera.<br /><br />Sean Penn-Awesome! He's always great though. I was surprised by James Franco and Diego Luna, one being good and the other being awful. I wasn't expecting much from Mr. Pineapple Express, but dude really delivered! And from watching "Y Tu Mama Tambien" among others, I was really surprised by how bad Luna is in "Milk." I was thinking about when straight actors play gay characters. Do they automatically start taking with a lisp and flick their wrists? Well, that was Luna's take, to the point of annoyance. I'm not sure how the character was in actuality, but watching him portrayed on the big screen via Luna, really was getting to me. <br /><br />I was also a bit annoyed with the lack of folks of color in the movie. I mean, what's with the Clint Eastwood interpretation of events? I mean, can I get some folks of color in the crowd shots? It was 1980s San Francisco! There had to be some folks of color in the Castro, right?<br /><br />I think the greatest contribution "Milk" makes is allowing an audience to see homosexuals as politicians: working for their constituents be they gay or straight. Often times we assume the black politician will only be out for the black folks, and so on. Or we assume that having the chapter on the Haitian Revolution in a textbook will do great things for black people only. We forget that we all benefit when the boot pressing down on oppressed peoples in lifted, if even slightly and for a moment.Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2116255697319009814.post-21087977798246287622008-12-27T09:09:00.001-08:002008-12-27T09:10:30.171-08:00Inauguration DilemmaThis is a short one but I want to invite commentary. We are going to the Inauguration next month and I'm having a hard time figuring out how to support my road dog, Obama, while protesting Rev. Warren. Any suggestions?Viva Sandino!http://www.blogger.com/profile/02196955102965632695noreply@blogger.com0