When Black Lives Matter embraces feminism we will have a fighting chance. But it has to be a feminism that serves all women, and not just bourgeois white women, which is what it has been in the past. We have so much to fight for right now - and while feminism isn't #1 for me, it certainly is high on the list. And #45 is trying to bring all that back. Women are still relegated to the kitchen and the bedroom all over the world.
But it does imply that men got the vote - ALL MEN - before any women did. In a way it summarizes my feeling about racism and sexism and which shall disappear first. And as I thought of this, I looked down at my own hands and realized I was starting to see the hands of my mother. In honor of this lovely teacher I thought I'd try my 'hand' at a poem today. She made me feel a whole person - as most other teachers didn't. I only wrote one that I liked - in 8th grade - about the lemon tree in my backyard. I have always been intimidated by poetry and never thought I could write any. So how do we promote poetry and libraries so we can save our civilization in the age of Trump and complete disregard for anything meaningful in life? What avail is it to win prescribed amounts of information about geography and history, to win ability to read and write, if in the process the individual loses his own soul: loses his appreciation of things worth while, of the values to which these things are relative if he loses desire to apply what he has learned and, above all, loses the ability to extract meaning from his future experiences as they occur? ( Experience and Education, p. Paul Thomas, blogger par excellence, quotes from John Dewey: Somebody muffed it? Somebody wanted to joke. I am a woman who hurries through her prayers.Ĭome: there shall be such islanding from grief,Īnd small communion with the master shore. I am a woman, and dusty, standing among new affairs. Whose washed echoes are tremulous down lost halls. The grasses forgetting their blaze and consenting to brown. The sweet flowers indrying and dying down, It is summer-gone that I see, it is summer-gone. I am not deceived, I do not think it is still summerīecause sun stays and birds continue to sing. My husband and lovers are pleasant or somewhat polite My daughters and sons have put me away with marbles and dolls, Had I not returned because of the severe pain, I would be walking around with the tumors on the lining of my stomach continuing to grow and spread.Īlready I am no longer looked at with lechery or love. It showed 92!! Well, the month before, my six month check up, the count was 14!! Yet this outcome didn't ring any bells, set off any alarms, nothing. Meanwhile, and this is what makes me most angry, a blood test had been done when I first went and some doctor (not the UC doctor) asked for a CA-125 count. The pain began two weeks before and the first visit to Urgent Care sent me home with laxatives. As with most health issues, everyone is different, and responds differently to medicine. But most people I spoke with didn't have pain with chemo, and I did. One of the chemo drugs is different and there should be fewer effects. But the doctor also said that I didn't have to take steroids this time.
This time the chemo won't be as bad, they say. MANY WONDERFUL THINGS TO CELEBRATE.īut in the middle of the month I received some bad news about my cancer which has returned to the lining (epithelium) of my stomach. APRIL IS STILL POETRY MONTH AND LIBRARY MONTH.
0 kommentar(er)
