President-Elect Obama. What It Means.

I just like saying that. I still can't say it without my throat closing up a little bit. Yes, We Did, and all that. I have so much to say about this historic event, yet I can't seem to write anything of import.

It's too big, too much. I can't make it fit into words. And I kind of don't want to. Maybe later, but right now, the thought of trying to express what this means to me, to my children, let alone the country, Black America, the world ... I can't fit it into words yet. Not really. I mean, I can write this post about how wonderful it is, where I was that night, how I felt, but the bigger picture? How to express that?

When it was announced, all the stress and adrenaline I'd apparently been holding for months just fell away. Like I'd imagine a body would feel after running a marathon. I could not get a hold of myself. It was too big to fit into feelings, let alone words. It hasn't completely sunk in. I still find myself on the verge of tears, just hearing bits of the speech on the radio, or looking at pictures online, the faces of people's reactions -- Jesse Jackson, ohmygod, did you all see Jesse? What this must mean to him and Andrew Young and all the people who were there during the civil rights years ... I can't even think about that without my heart feeling off beat.

I was on the phone with the Bohemian when it was announced. The networks were counting down the seconds to release the Western states' numbers. We were wondering how long we'd have to wait, contemplating (cynically) whether there would be vote tampering, whether there would be problems, when all of a sudden my phone erupted in my ear, exploded, as the students at Howard University reacted to the news that Barack Obama would be the next president of the United States. At that moment it flashed across the TV: Barack Obama, projected winner. It happened so fast -- it took a few moments for either of us to realize it was real.

Hearing those Howard students, even just over the phone, had me laughing and crying at once. I will never forget that. The Bohemian said people were pouring outside, literally dancing in the streets.

Then Teen Demon called, Teen Demon who is not given to exuberant displays of emotion, called laughing and shouting and so happy, caught up in a student mob that was parading around campus and through surrounding neighborhoods. Later she sent me a video of students breaking into an impromptu version of the Star Spangled Banner. As a former soldier, that song still gets to me anyway, but to hear young people spontaneously singing on their own, reacting to the election of the first African American president; that means a lot more than hearing it at a sporting event or a parade. It meant something.

Male Offspring was at an election party at the high school with the debate team, and when I picked him up, he was practically bouncing out of his shoes, said he needed something to focus him (of course, he was referring to driving us home) because he was so hyped up from the excitement. Hugging him, I could only think about President-Elect Obama's mother and grandmother, how proud they would be, and how their son/grandson has made the future a different place for my son.

Earlier that night, I had been a little sad that we'd all be in separate places, but then I thought about how this election was so much about the young people this time, and I wanted my kids to have that memory, to experience this in crowds of young people who helped make this happen and who are our future. What I heard in my daughters' voices that night, what I saw in my son's face, means more than I can explain. It is too big to fit into words.

You go, President-Elect Obama. I'm proud and honored to have you as my president.

And So, Once Again...

“My heart is broken in the face of the stupidity of my species. I can’t cry about it. In a way I’m inoculated."
~Joni Mitchell

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Joni wrote this piece in 1969, as a "friend of America" during the Vietnam era. Now, just shy of 40 years later, the words are, almost eerily, still relevant.

This is an a cappella piece; I've always liked it. Nothing but her pure voice and the lyrics, which somehow punctuates the gravity of the message itself. The musical intervals aren't what you'd expect, and it's no cakewalk to sing a piece like this sans instrumentation. But, she's Joni.

I hope you'll give it a listen. Lots of Joni's songs transcend time, but this piece is particularly fitting in today's political climate.




The Fiddle and The Drum - Joni Mitchell I guess Joni realized just how relevant this piece is, in current times. Last year she collaborated with the Alberta Ballet on The Fiddle and The Drum, a project in which ballet dancers perform to her music, against a backdrop of her art. The theme has to do with the warring nature of humans, and how we're affecting the earth.

GObama! The Speech and the Caucus

On Friday I took the offspring out of school and headed to the city to hear Barack Obama speak. For the kids to hear this man speak, to have that memory -- totally worth missing Biology lab. However this election shakes out, it's historic! I wanted them to experience history being made, and yes, to see that someone who looks like them could well be the next president of this country. So we scooped up one of Teen Demon's friends and headed downtown.

Key Arena was packed to the rafters -- not an empty seat in the house, and people standing in every entryway as well. The arena holds 18,000, but the Seattle mayor said it was a good thing the fire chief had the day off; I bet there were some fire code violations. Outside were 3,000 more people who couldn't get in, including a friend of mine, her 16-year-old nephew, and his friend. Senator Obama went outside with a bullhorn and spoke to those folks after his speech.

This pic shows probably 1/3 of the arena, when people were still filing in to find seats.

Our governor made a surprise appearance, and with her endorsement, came out as the "newest member of Team Obama". Apparently she'd been having a hard time deciding between Clinton and Obama, as had many people.

My favorite shot. As you can see, it clearly shows that the good Senator and I shared a moment. See? He's looking right at me. Yeah, Barack and I, we're tight like that. Hi, Senator.

These guys were working it. Their enthusiasm made up for the jerky awkward dance moves. These boys were serious supporters, now.

It was an amazing experience. And hell yes, it was inspiring.

And I'll tell you something, I'm getting tired of the generalizations that say Obama is all talk and Clinton is all specifics. I've been listening to the speeches both of them have been giving lately, and you know, Clinton isn't giving any more specifics in her speeches than Obama is. Which is fine. I expect them to have specifics on their web sites. I expect them to have specific plans for the issues, and I expect those plans to be available to the voters. I expect them to be specific during the debates. But when I take a day off work, take my kids out of school, and wait for hours to hear this man connect with his supporters and speak for 50 minutes ... I damn well expect to be inspired. I expect to walk away with some hope that day.

I don't believe that hope and specifics are mutually exclusive, that a person who is a good orator is by default an empty vessel of inspiration with nothing to back it up. I think that's just something to latch onto and make waves about.


Here's what Senator Obama had to say about hope last Friday:

People have been saying, "You know, Obama, he’s a talker, not a doer. He talks about hope all the time. You know, he uh, he’s so naïve, he’s so idealistic. He’s a hope monger." This is the argument I’ve been hearing lately.
You know, look, it’s true; I do talk about hope all the time. And out of necessity, because, the odds are, I should not be standing here. I was born to a single mom, my dad left when I was two. I was raised by a single mom and my grandparents. And all they could give me was love, an education, and hope. That was my inheritance.

And so, (cheers) and so, you know, we put hope on our signs ...

But in criticizing me, for quote-unquote “being inspiring”, (laughter) the implication is that I’m somehow not a realist, the notion is that my head is in the clouds somewhere. That, in Senator Clinton’s words, I’m “peddling false hopes”, and I need a reality check.

And, I have to, I have to say, you know, that’s not what hope is. Hope is not blind optimism. Hope is not ignorance of the challenges that stand before us. Hope is not pretending that those barriers that stand between you and your dreams will just somehow go away. Hope is just the opposite.

He went on to talk about the the changes he hopes to make in this country. And yes, I came away feeling hopeful. I was inspired. I saw hope in the faces of my children, as they watched this man speak, a man whose childhood is not so far from their own experiences and realities. I saw hope in my children's faces, and that is something I'll never forget.


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The next day was the caucuses. Caucii? Whatever, there was some serious caucus action going down in Washington state. Record turnouts don't even begin to describe it. Main roads were backed up for miles. The caucus point for my area was a huge high school. Parking lots for the high school, middle school, and elementary school were already packed. People were parking out in the neighborhoods, streaming toward the high school on foot. Some folks parked over a mile away.

I have never seen so many people on foot in the suburbs, y'all. It looked like The Birds, only with humans. Some people didn't get there in time due to traffic and parking issues.

Get me to the caucus on time.

I finally found my precinct in this room. This pic was about an hour before the caucus even started. By the time we got rolling, this room was packed, and it was only one room of many. Hundreds and hundreds of people - I'd bet it was into the thousands.

I live in a tiny precinct. I could easily walk the precinct borders in short order. We set a record for attendance, with 27 people, not including the six late-comers. More about that later; it got dicey up in that gym for a while. Folks from other precincts said theirs set records as well.

Surprise visit from the governor. She gave a pretty rousing speech for a skinny, little, white grandma. Girl is scrappy.

So we got down to the actual business of caucusing. It was exciting to see democracy in action at a grassroots level. I ended up getting more involved than I'd anticipated. All that research I ended up doing over the primary vs. caucus issue paid off, I guess. Our precinct captain was a very nice guy. He was also extremely disorganized, and gave the impression that he'd read the rules on his way over, while stuck in all that traffic. A few of us banded together, after exchanging some concerned looks, and became unofficial assistants.

Our group went Obama-24, Clinton-3. Clinton did get one delegate. Yes, a candidate can acquire a delegate by "rounding up", as you can't send half a delegate on a candidate's behalf.

After the tally, people had the opportunity to make a plea on their candidate's behalf. In our group, about five of us spoke for Obama, and I was actually disappointed that the Clinton supporters chose not to speak, because I'd been looking forward to that, and genuinely wanted to hear what they had to say. Some of the other precincts, however, did quite a bit of back and forth. I was impressed that everyone who spoke mentioned that both candidates were strong, both were respected, and both would be good leaders. No mud-slinging or nastiness. Go Dems! After that, people had the opportunity to change their original vote, but no one in our group did, so the tally numbers for delegates went official.

About this time the late-comers started showing up, and that's where things got dicey. According to caucus rules, you must be signed in with your choice by 1:30. The late-comers were already pissed and winded after parking in the next county and hiking over hill and dale to get there, so that news did not go over well. Debate ensued. Our precinct captain didn't know what to do. Some folks said we should just sign everyone in, regardless. Our not-so-fearless captain started to do this. I was concerned that breaking some sort of party rules could lead to all the precinct's delegates being invalidated. Several others felt the same way; we said we'd feel better if we had confirmation from the district chair before we made a decision. Our captain loped off to find the district chair.

Now the newcomers were looking at us like we were haters, and the "just sign them up" crowd was looking at their feet. Things definitely felt uncomfortable. I went and talked with the newcomers, I really did feel bad for them. I mean, we all had problems with traffic and parking, even those who got there early. I thought all the votes should be counted, and I felt the party should've better anticipated high turnout, and either had more caucus points, or run shuttles from various points in the community, along with getting the word out beforehand to get there early. Anyway, before our captain returned, everyone was friendly again, which was good.

Turns out the district chair said we could not break the rules, and that it would've been subject to objection if we had. However, the late-comers could still have the opportunity to be a delegate, so that was cool. One of them actually did end up being an alternate.

I got chosen to be a delegate, so I'm pretty stoked about that. Whoo-hoo!



I have mixed feelings on the caucus process. On the one hand, people are really involved on a community level -- it was energizing, and people were talking and connecting. I was very impressed with how the community came together, and everyone was very supportive and friendly. It didn't much matter who you supported, there was an overriding feeling of excitement just that folks were exercising their right to vote, to be a part of the process. I also think people tend to be more informed with the caucus as opposed to the primary.

On the other hand, people who work on Saturday, who don't have transportation, who may be disabled, the elderly ... those folks have a hard time taking part, and their voices aren't heard in numbers that reflect their place in the population. That's a problem, one that needs to be addressed. (Yes, there is a form to vote in absentia, but it only applies to three situations: religious observances, military service, or disability)

I actually think there may be something to the WA Republicans' method. They do both a caucus and a primary: they choose half of their delegates though the caucus, and half via the primary. This way, you get the involvement, but people who may otherwise not have a voice still have a way to be counted. I'm still not sure, though, as you can also do both with the combo method, and I'm not sure that doesn't skew things. Anyway. So I have mixed feelings on the caucus system, but I really enjoyed it, and more than that, I felt encouraged and hopeful in spending that time with my community working toward a change.


This was about half an hour after everything wound down. It took quite a while for traffic to die down. Way to go, Dems.

Fired up, ready to go!

"But It's 2007!"

It seems ignorant comments are not just confined to my son's history class.
(Read "Yes, Virginia, People Still Do Say That Shit", if you haven't yet.)

So this is a list of local situations that I've seen personally in 2007, in case anyone still is clinging to the notion that racism is over.

Male Offspring, while fully expected to excel at sports, did not receive the IB* application packet when the other kids did. This despite the fact that he took sophomore math and honors science in the 8th grade. Despite the fact that both sisters are/will be succesful IB diploma graduates.

(*IB = International Baccalaureate, an international honors program.)

No one could tell me why. Something in the IB coordinator's "Sorry about that, but the deadline has passed now ... he can try next year, though," gave me the feeling they just wanted me to quit asking.

Next year? Excuse me? He's supposed to jump into this program after missing the first year? And then you'll wonder why he's not successful? No. Fuck that. Fuck you. He earned his place same as those other kids, he's going in this year.

Thank goodness for his counselor. We got him in through the back door. He'll have his shot.

But I've learned that it is part of my privilege that I am listened to and often see results when I go to address an issue at the school, and even that I have that expectation. (Often there is visible relief when I show up to deal with a situation.  "Oh!  So ... YOU'RE Male Offspring's mother!  Okay!  Sooo nice to meet you!") Many, many parents of color I've spoken with do not experience the same results when they address things. In this case, the parents of color I talked with said they didn't even know about the IB application, let alone the deadline.  This says something about who receives information. And who doesn't. If it weren't for the fact that I'd already fought to get my girls into the program, I wouldn't have known that this opportunity existed for Male Offspring.

They are usually the only black students in their IB classes. And I had to fight for that.


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There is an African American girl in Teen Demon's class who is the personification of school spirit. She is student body president, is involved in school clubs, and one of the few black kids in IB. Her grades started to slip; she was stretched too thin with all her activities. She was told to consider moving to regular classes. That's a message about the expectations for her.

Another girl, a white girl, actually wanted to drop IB. School was not her biggest priority, she wasn't involved in clubs, sports, or activities. She actively attempted to move to regular classes. Not only was she encouraged to stick with it, they did not allow her to drop out.  Let me say that again:  they did not allow her to drop out. She eventually did, but those adults had expectations of her; they fought for her, they encouraged her, despite the fact that she wasn't even interested in the program.

The first young lady was not encouraged. They did not fight for her. In fact, she was told maybe IB "wasn't the place for her," even though she had three years of that program under her belt, even though she contributes to the school in many ways. There were expectations for her as well.  Fortunately, she is not living down to those expectations.

Same school, same program, same teachers and administrators.  So even being class president isn't enough to overcome the disparity in treatment and in expectations here.  What the hell, people?


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The Radical Bohemian somehow got marked in the school's records as "white". This means her grades - excellent - were being credited to the white category as far as school performance. This pissed us off, as she was one of only two black students in the IB program for her year, and now her performance was being credited as a white kid. I asked both the school and the district how that had happened.

Apparently, when we moved here, there was no provision for bi/multiracial students. You checked one box, and one only. So she didn't check any. (These days she just checks black) Well, it turns out that,

Caucasian is the default.

What? I'm sorry, did you actually just say "Caucasian is the default"? No shit, we knew that; I just didn't know it applied to my daughter's school records as well as to life in general. I was told by a different person:

Oh, she's such a good student. Since you didn't check a category, someone probably looked at her grades and her WASL scores, and made a judgement call.

Are you fucking kidding me? So ... let's see if I've got this straight:  good grades + good standardized test scores + IB program = Caucasian kid? I don't think so. Unconscious bias, anyone?


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A Latina student was asked in Spanish class last week, where her family was from. She'd been taught her family history and Chicano history since she was a little girl. She is also shy, not one for speaking up. This though, was one area she knew, and she confidently told the teacher her grandparents were from the northern part of Mexico. The teacher looked at her name again and replied, smiling,

No -- Spain! Look at your name. Your family must be from Spain.

then she turned to the class and said,

Do you know why I say that? Because _________ is fair-skinned, and her last name is Spanish. Mexicans have the influence of the Indians, so many of them are dark-skinned.

All the kids in the class turned to look at this young lady. Surprise.

Are you kidding me? How arrogant. This teacher, who, by the way, speaks the most awful, gringoized Spanish I've ever heard, has the audacity to correct this child about where her family comes from, AND throw in some fucked up racist incorrect shit on top of it?

That young lady later said she felt stupid in front of her class. Like she didn't even know her own history. How do you undo that feeling?

My son has the same teacher. He says she has asked other students with last names like Garcia and Sanchez, why they are in her class. "Why don't you already speak Spanish?"  What?  Look, lady, do you speak Swedish?  No?  Why the hell not?  Explain yourself.

This is the most qualified individual the district could find to teach Spanish? You seriously expect me to believe there was not a more qualified native speaker who could teach Spanish? And you think there's not been a need for affirmative action?

In fact, I'd suggest that this one local situation is a great example of how our system has included automatic affirmative action for whites since before we even became a country. In addition to being ignorant about her field of study, this teacher (whom Teen Demon also had for two years) is not even an effective instructor in her field. But she's the one they hired, she's the one who gets to teach the Spanish language to kids in this school. Hello, people, the white kids lose out too, in situations like that. That means your kids too, they're getting fucked up, substandard information in classrooms like this, all across the country.

Is it any wonder US folks in general are abysmal at speaking other languages?


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This same student, last spring, went on a field trip to the UW. Her mother put the trip together on her own, after finding out that the colleges only recruited from honors classes, and that a whole group of Latino kids had never been exposed to a college campus. The girl was fired up after the trip. This shy young lady got her nerve up and actually asked the school club administrator how to go about setting up a Latino Students Club. The advisor told her this:

I'm not sure that's such a good idea. It's not inclusive, you know? I mean, what if a white student wanted to start a white supremacist group here on campus? How would that make you feel?

Really? Are you fucking kidding me? An adult in this school actually compared a Latino Student Club to a white supremacist group. A hate group. What message does that send this student about the value of her culture? What does that say about the level of awareness we accept from the people in positions power? And why was this person permitted to take that action which is against the school handbook/policies on starting up student clubs? We can have a prayer group and a Young Republicans club, but not a Latino Club?

So between those two incidents with this particular student, what do you think the chances are that she, with her already shy personality, will take another chance on speaking up? What is the lasting impact on her? And without that club she wanted to start, what are the chances that she'll even find any support or understanding in the school?

(She did, eventually start the club. She had to fight for it, she had to bring in allies, but it's there now. It is very popular, and the young lady is coming into her own through the business of running it.  She's winning.)


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An individual in a high position in my area took a group of her (white) staff to the Central District of Seattle in order for them to "learn what it's like to be a minority". I'm serious. So they trooped in for a meal, and now, apparently, they understand what it's like for, say, a student of color to be the only one sitting in a white classroom. Really. That hour is somehow equivalent to living a lifetime with a constant awareness of your environment behind the history of being black in this country? That must've been one hell of a meal.

Oh, and they also, apparently, have increased their cultural understanding with collard greens!

This was relayed to a group of black women and a Latino man in that well-intentioned way that suggests the person expects approval or even accolades for her actions. Or a cookie. The person relaying the story did not pick up on the reactions of the group. She truly thought she had done a good thing, and that she's ready for diversity work now.

More harm than good here, people.  This lady and her cohort may conclude that since they were fine on their dinner outing, a black kid in a white classroom should be similarly fine. If he's not fine, they may see it as his fault, because after all, they managed when they were the "minority". For an hour. They may be even less willing to listen to voices of people who do live this stuff every day, because now they "know from experience".

Sigh.

So now, how to deal with that person, and her staff, who are in positions to affect things for young people? Her good intentions have made the work even harder for those around her, and she has no idea.


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So yeah. These are just a few of the things I've personally seen or heard about, the kinds of things still happening in 2007. These are the things that well-intentioned people say and do. It happens a lot.  This is just a sampling.

And it wears a kid down after a while.

In Which My Pants Go Marching Marching

See the radical protester in camo fatigues, holding back the media with her awesomeness and blinding attire? That would be my kid.
There's more.

My pants were at the March on Washington. As in my soldier girl pants. My former BDUs. (that's Battle Dress Uniform in civilian lingo.) From when I wore combat boots for a living. That's them, there on the right.

The boots in the picture, though, are all hers.

I'm so proud. Not only was my daughter an organizer in the March, she donned her mother's old army pants to do so. There's a certain irony there. A certain je ne sais quoi. Oh wait, yes I do: a certain Fuck You, Georgie, and fuck your war. Here's one former soldier whose ass you didn't get to control.

And whose ass no longer fits in those pants, which is why the Radical Bohemian is in currently in possession of them. Yeah, I really hate that part. That part pretty much pisses me off. Almost enough to make me get up and exercise.

Anyway, my teenager is fortunate enough to be wearing those BDUs to march on Washington, rather than wearing them to march through Fallujah or Baghdad. I've been thinking more than usual about the mothers whose kids are wearing desert fatigues lately.

Good job, baby, you rock.



(Why yes, as a matter of fact, I am posting about the March and my daughter ad nauseaum. My blog, my kid, important event that BushCo. wants to stifle. Whatever.)

The Radical Bohemian in the News

I got an email from the Radical Bohemian this morning informing me that she has been photographically featured in the Washington Post online. (much thanks to Sling for sending me the screenshot -- I owe you a shot.) The media, as I've been bitching about, threw a few bones out here and there, but pretty much it was slim pickins as far as coverage of the ANSWER Coalition's March on Washington. If, however, you wanted to know what OJ was up to this weekend, no problem there.

Guess our Commandant in Chief would rather that We the Sheeple don't know how strong the anti-war sentiment really is. Better to keep us all docile and happy and thinking about Britney's custody case.

According to this photo series, "dozens" of protesters were arrested. Okay, if you want to call 196 "dozens", technically you're not wrong, but when I hear "dozens", I tend to think of a number more like 36 or 48. But that's just me.

Anyway, she is picture #7 in this series of pics. She says they were shouting "shame" at the time it was taken. She says there is another picture out there somewhere of her holding back the media from the caution tape line. I guess she told one guy, "I don't care if you're CNN, that doesn't mean you can cross our line!"

Anyway, that's my daughter, in the blindingly lemon yellow ANSWER shirt and security vest, with the hat and braids. Go baby.

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Oh, and the police took her bike, Spirit the Unicorn. She thinks. She and some of the other protesters left their bikes chained up -- in a bike rack -- near the starting point of the march, as it's not so effective to wheel your bike along on a march. And riding in a march, well, that kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?

Anyway, the Officer Smirks-a-lot told her, "We took a lot of bikes that weren't supposed to be there. Did you have it registered?" (she didn't, it was fairly new) "Oh, well, in that case, you know, we give a lot of bikes away to kids."

Already? In the middle of the night on Saturday when you were busy dealing with all those folks you arrested? In other words, damn lefty, stirring up our weekend, that's what you get.

She was told she could not file a report of theft until she checked with the police holding area on Monday. He did not seem hopeful that Spirit the Unicorn would be there.

And Another Thing (A Health Care P.S.)

Just a piggyback thought, while we're on the subject of health care and I'm still feeling pissed off about it. (read the previous post, if you don't know why) I recently saw the movie Man of the Year, where a comedian (Robin Williams) was elected president.

Guess folks want a change, even in movie land. Anyway, the comedian-president says,

HMOs will pay for your Viagra, but they won't pay for your glasses.

It was supposed to be funny, but it wasn't actually funny at all on account of it's true. I paid a shitload of money for my daughter's glasses, and I am fortunate enough to have "good healthcare" through my 9-to-5. If, however, I were a man wanting Little Richard to perform, that shit's paid for! Just take this to the pharmacy, buddy, we'll get you taken care of, wink-wink!

What the hell is wrong with this country that Viagra is covered so men can get their dicks up, but opthalmology and dentistry are considered, what, extra? Superfluous? A special privilege? They can get dick-pills so they can get off, but eyeglasses and teeth cleaning, well, hold on just a minute there, little lady, that's not altogether necessary.

Anyway. I just thought of that line from the movie, and thought how ironic it is that some man somewhere was getting it up courtesy of our health-care system, on the same day that a 12-year-old boy died from a toothache, because his family didn't have health insurance.

Goddamn, people. That is just wrong.

The Greatest Country on Earth Handles a Toothache

Last night, just as my son was coming to tell me goodnight, I came across a news article about a boy not much younger than he is, a story I could not get my head around. A story about a 12-year-old boy who died from an abscessed tooth.

Deamonte Driver, some mother's son, died from an abscessed tooth.

In this country. In this wealthyass country, a child DIED from a friggin' TOOTHACHE.

WTF??

So, I'm reading this story, hand over my mouth, not believing it, and my son asked me what was wrong. He looked at the picture of Deamonte Driver, showing the scar from his brain operation as a result of his abscessed tooth, and asked, "But, Anyu, how can that even happen? Can a kid really die from a bad tooth? Couldn't their dentist just fix it?"

Yes, a dentist could've easily fixed it. In fact, the tooth never would've been abscessed at all, had Deamonte had regular dentist checkups, the same yearly checkup my son complains about.

The family did not have health insurance. This American family could not afford health insurance. The abscess in Deamonte's tooth got so bad it spread to his brain. Before he died, Deamonte had emergency brain surgery, had seizures and complications afterward, had a second brain operation, then physical and occupational therapy.

Oh, and they extracted the tooth.

• Diamonte's medical bills totalled out at $250,000.
• Extracting the tooth would've cost less than $100.
• With regular checkups, he wouldn't have needed the extraction to begin with.

How about a comprehensive universal health care system, people? Is this enough of a wake-up call? When is the US going to realize that investing in our society benefits all of us? Preventive health care would save money in the long run; $250,000 worth of savings, in this case.

I am so sick of the Blame The Victim mentality in this country, that whole bootstrapper thing -- you know what I'm talking about: If this family had just pulled itself up by the bootstraps and worked a little harder, why they could've had health insurance like the productive citizens of this great land! If they couldn't afford it, well, they must've been Doing Something Wrong. They must be lazy. Probably a single mother. Probably she didn't have control over those kids anyway, I mean, they didn't even brush their teeth enough! She probably spent their toothbrush money on malt liquor.

No, do not even try and tell me I'm being dramatic, because you know there are people who actually think that shit. 

I am sick of the shortsightedness of this country in everything from health care and education to roads and building construction. Seriously, these things are handled (on the whole) by choosing whatever costs the least in the short run. Whatever is cheapest and keeps things afloat during our watch, that's what we go with. No one wants to pay higher taxes. No one wants to invest in anything or anyone except themselves.

Has anyone seen the UNICEF report on international child welfare for this year? Check this out: (from the International Herald Tribune, 14-Feb-07)

The United States and Britain ranked at the bottom of a U.N. survey of child welfare in 21 rich countries that assessed everything from infant mortality to whether children ate dinner with their parents or were bullied at school.
The Netherlands, followed by Sweden, Denmark and Finland, finished at the top while the U.S. was 20th and Britain 21st in the rankings released Wednesday by UNICEF in Berlin.
One of the study's researchers, Jonathan Bradshaw, said children fared worse in the U.S. and Britain — despite high overall levels of national wealth — because of greater economic inequality and poor levels of public support for families.
"They don't invest as much in children as continental European countries do," he said.
Bradshaw cited thin day care services in both countries, and poorer health coverage and preventative care for children in the U.S.

So there you have it. As rich as we collectively are, we are failing our children because we are not interested in a collective, because we are interested in individuals who can pull themselves up by the bootstraps.

Funny how the top ranked countries have universal health care. The topped ranked countries are interested in a collective. They are investing in their society.

I wonder when a Norwegian or Finnish kid last died of a toothache?

I am ashamed and angered and so, so sad that this little boy died over something so goddamned stupid and unnecessary. I am amazed by the fact that had he been born Swedish, instead of American, he would still be alive.

Rock On, Senator.

My daughter heard Barack Obama speak. Shook his hand. And, perhaps best of all, had the perverse pleasure of shoving past a FOX news reporter to do so. Go, baby. She skipped Arabic class and took the Metro to GMU in Virginia to watch history in the making.

That's pretty goddamn exciting.

She reports he is a magnificent speaker. He is also left-handed, which she promptly added to her list of things they have in common: biracial, single mother, went to school in another country with another language, left handed.  "We're practically twins", she stated. In the spirit of Senator Joe Biden's recent comments, I guess she could add "so well-spoken" to the list.

This is just one of the many Very Cool Experiences she's had since leaving the Left Coast for Howard U. in DC. She's but a stone's throw from W. and his minions. In fact, she was at the White House just last weekend for an anti-war protest. She walked with a group from the NOW headquarters, and also helped them sort through all manner of interesting hate mail from pro-lifers, which was evidently entertaining as hell, and definitely not carrying Christian messages of love. ("Jesus hates you!" Seriously?)

I don't know yet if Senator Obama is the best person for president, and I don't know if America is ready yet to finally cross race and/or gender lines in the White House. What I do know is that Barack Obama, while surely inspirational to a great many people, is especially and critically inspirational to my daughter, in a way that John Kerry or Wesley Clark could never be for her. Barack Obama means it's possible.

For her.

For people of color. For people from single-parent households who went to public schools. Barack Obama means that maybe important qualifications are things like activism, principles, integrity, and vision, and not things like privilege, or your great-greats coming over on the right ship, or a family legacy at some fancy-ass academy with a brick wall around it where boys will be boys and the headmaster golfs with Grandfather.

Barack Obama in this election means another barrier knocked down. A big one.

Senator Obama is fighting to squeeze through a pinhole in that glass ceiling, and better yet, he's got company. With Hillary Clinton and Bill Richardson throwing their hats in the ring, we could see the nation's first Black, female, or Latino president. What do you know, we've got a diverse hiring pool for the job of commander in chief! About time. I hope they smash the fuck out of that glass ceiling.