Since I’ve been back teaching in NYC, I’ve taught more veterans than I want to think about, young men and women who have served in battle and are now back getting a degree. I read their essays about living in a war zone; I hear their stories of lost friends, broken bodies, alcoholism, and it breaks my heart every time.  I am also teaching some active soldiers, one of whom recently got wounded so badly that he ended up in Germany for surgery. he still managed to be only four days late with his paper.  And he apologized for inconveniencing me.  I don’t mention names, but I tell his story to every student I have now.  He’s my personal hero.

So the thoughts I had in Sweden 10 years ago have only grown deeper.  Thank you all from the bottom of my heart, and not just the recent veterans, but those of you who served in all of America’s wars.  You truly aren’t forgotten. Or unappreciated.

A Shout Out to the Boys

Originally published August 12, 2004

A lot of times in this column, I talk about encountering anti-Americanism. OK, talk is a euphemism. I complain.
And I’ve mentioned how I don’t wear things obviously labeling me as an American because I worry about attracting unwanted attention. It’s the same theory as not wearing my jewelry in the New York City subway–why tempt Fate?

I’m not alone in this approach, of course. Just the other day I was reading that one of the American TV networks has
warned its staff going over to cover the Olympic Games not to wear American flags or even the network insignia when they are out in public in order to avoid being the target of a terrorist attack.

But then I got to thinking about some people who can’t avoid being seen as American: the members of the US Armed
Forces fighting or guarding in different areas. And I really wanted to say something about them, but I was trying to think of a way to avoid all the political implications. It’s not easy. No, I take that back. It’s impossible. Oh, I can write without mentioning politics at all, but I can hear people out there shouting at me because I’m choosing to ignore the political.

But that’s just what those soldiers have to do. They have to ignore the shouting and the politics and just do their
job, and frankly, it’s a pretty crummy job. And for all my sitting in nice, safe Sweden and writing about the image of America abroad, I *am* safe. So I wanted to take a week and give a shout out to the “boys and girls” in the service and say thank you. Thank you for being braver than I could ever be, and thank you for putting your life on the line. Although there has been much made in the press of the bad apples, the good apples get basically ignored, so this is for them.

Just the other day I heard about two Iraqi brothers who have been living in Sweden for 25 years. They just sold
their shops and they are going home for the first time since they left their country. They couldn’t go back because of Saddam Hussein. I might not agree with how it was done, but what’s done is done, and good riddance to him. Saddam, that is. Those two brothers were quite pleased that the US finally got rid of him so that they can go spend their final years at home. And let me tell you, they say thanks to the boys, too.

A kid I used to baby sit is with the Marines in Afghanistan [note from 11/11--he recently got home from another tour over in the Middle East, so some things don't change much] , and more than one friend has a son in Iraq. Through them, I’ve heard things that give me pause. I complain because I can’t get my favorite cleaning products in the places I’ve lived. These guys can’t get the sand out of their underwear. You know how horrible it is when you’ve got sand in your bathing suit? Well, from what I hear, this is a permanent problem over there. They feel like their underwear and socks are made of sandpaper. Sand gets into everything. One day my friend got frustrated and washed his clothes in a bucket of water. When he hung them out to dry, a sandstorm blew up and sanded themworse than before. I’m told one of the best things they can get in a care
package is a pair of tightey-whiteys (the regulation underwear) as it means no sitting on sandpaper for a day or two.

Sand is a hardship, of course, but then there’s the getting shot at. Of course, that’s an occupational hazard in their
chosen career, but still, I can’t think it can be much fun. How’s that for understatement?

I sometimes get e-mails from the mothers, written late at night when the fears can set in. Those moms are heroes to me. (Dads, too, I guess, but as a mom, I empathize with them more.) I have a hard time sending my son to school where I know there are bullies marking him out. I literally cannot imagine waving my son off, knowing he’s going into battle. Mothers have been doing it for millennia, of course, but hearing my friends voice their fears makes me wonder how they can possibly do it. I know I am no Volumnia, mother to the great Roman soldier Caius Martius, later known as Coriolanus. Thanks to Shakespeare’s version of the story, she’s famous for training her son to be a fierce soldier. In fact, in the play, based on Plutarch’s Lives, Volumnia says that she was happier when her son was first wounded in battle than she was the day
he was born and she was told he was a “man-child”.

Some ancient cultures recognized how difficult it was for women to send their children into battle. So according to
their beliefs, men could attain paradise by dying in battle, but women could attain paradise by giving birth to warriors. I can understand where that belief came from, believe me. Faith got those mothers through. Today, all of my
friends get by on Faith, as well. I’ve heard it said that there are no atheists in foxholes. Well, there don’t seem to be any among soldiers’ moms, either.

And they get by on the kindness of strangers. Time after time I hear stories of regular people doing things for
the soldiers overseas through their churches, work place or social groups. As I mentioned to one of my soldier-mom friends, one good thing about this awful war is that it has shown us that Americans really do unite and help one another
when they need to.

As I was preparing to write this essay, I found an interesting piece in the New York Times. It was David Brooks’s “Snapping to Attention,” and in it he says that civilians in America have a strange reaction to our military: “Our
attitudes seem bipolar: we’re either at the military’s throat or we’re at its feet.”

“Sometimes,” he says, “the military is regarded as a bizarre, primeval institution dangerously at odds with enlightened
American culture.” But then, “at the flick of a cultural switch, the same people who were watching “Dr. Strangelove,” “M*A*S*H” and “Platoon” are lining up to see “Top Gun,” “Saving Private Ryan” and “We Were Soldiers.” Suddenly the
military is a bastion of the higher virtues – selflessness, duty and honor.”

Burke has a few reasons for this“bipolar disorder”: “I get the feeling these bipolar attitudes arise from a cocktail of ignorance, guilt and envy. First, there are large demographic chunks of the nation in which almost nobody serves….At the same time, they know there’s something unjust in the fact that they get to enjoy America while others sacrifice for it, and sense deep down that there’s something ennobling in military service.”

I think he’s on to something there, but I also think that in its ideal form the military is a “bastion of the higher virtues,” but these virtues he mentions, selflessness, duty and honor, are losing their grip in our society. And not just American society, all of Western society. (I can’t speak for other societies here, because I’m a product of Western liberal humanism, so I’m limiting myself to that.) Honor seems to be a forgotten word in our life, and duty? Well, that just seems laughable to most
people. Think of all the people you know in your own life who shirk duties–work responsibilities, parental responsibilities, marriage responsibilities–because they are too much, too hard.

When we see young people, some just barely 18, fulfilling their very dangerous duties in a highly unpopular war,
how can we not be made aware of our own failings? And it’s easy to take our frustrations about the war out on the young people who are fighting it. Many of them joined the military for a shot at a better life. And they’ll have one if a) they can stay alive, and b) they can resist the temptation to hate. It’s difficult, but hate is what turns them sour inside and makes them into the people who get the negative headlines.

So when I pray for them all over there, and I do, every day, I pray for physical, emotional and spiritual safety. And this is my shout out to you all–thank you from the bottom of my heart.

For a hat. For an ugly hat.

But the massive amount is going to charity. Don’t know who won or what the person will do with the most famous hat of the year, but thanks for giving, I guess.

And thanks to Princess Beatrice for being a good sport.

But Princess Beatrice has turned all the scorn to a good cause. And good  for her.  She’s auctioning the hat off via ebay.  Right now, six days before the auction ends, the bid is £11,000.00.  For American readers, that’s $17,788.35 at today’s exchange rate.  Not chump change.

The monies collected will be split between UNICEF UK and Children in Crisis.

People made fun of her, but she turned it around. I’m no fan, but credit where credit is due. This isn’t my usual topic for this blog, but I support charity when I can. And people who can turn negatives to positives should be saluted. Fair play to you, Beatrice.

For those unfamiliar with AOP or New York State’s program HEOP, these are fantastic programs to help bright, talented students with potential be able to attend schools they might not otherwise have been able to due to financial considerations.  Most of these students are from poorer areas with weaker public schools, so they also lack college preparation.  The students are often given an immersion program the summer before school, which Union College provides, and tutoring during the school year.  It was in the pre-freshman immersion summer that I met this graduating group.

Every single one of this group of 21 had distinguished him or herself in some way while at college, through leadership, scholarship, talent, service to the college or local community through volunteering or a combination of these areas.  AOP/HEOP programs nurture students, and with that little bit of extra care, these students blossom into the type of graduate America is hungry for.

I wanted to share the speech, minus the introductory and concluding comments, because I ad-libbed them, because what I have to say, while especially for that very special group, stands for many of the graduates of 2011.

So now, here’s the speech. Congratulations, as well, to all 2011 graduates.

I had many brilliant ideas for this talk. Sheer unadulterated rhetorical brilliance. But they all happened late at night, between sleep and wakefulness and I was too lazy to write them down, so by morning they were gone. So you’ll just have to take my word for it.

At times I was seriously tempted to just get up here and wing it. I’m good at improv and sometimes just seeing your faces would have given me plenty of stories to embarrass you with.  But since this is a one shot deal, if it flopped, there’s no redoing it tomorrow.  So I thought the better of that idea.

Instead I wrote this, so I hope it’s OK. And I’m going to read it, more or less, and I know you’re not used to that from me, but if I don’t I might get off track and go on a tangent and who knows where we’ll end up.  And if I don’t have something to focus on up here, I might possible let some water leak out of my eye or something and  that would be gross.

Because I am that proud.

I look out you graduating seniors and my heart swells with love and pride. I remember the kids I met the summer of ’07. Shy, cocky, brash, brilliant, brats, unpolished but so much potential. I’ve watched you over the years, even though I’m far away I’ve got cyber eyes.  Between Facebook and a few summers coming back, I’ve stayed in the loop, and I’ve watched you become the outstanding men and women sitting here today.

You’ve accomplished so much in your four years here. Every time I hear about your studies abroad, your internships, your mentoring, the shows, awards, I feel pride again.

Now it’s traditional to tell graduates that they are the future of the nation because in reality, they are. No getting around that, and as I told you that first time I ever met you, I took your education seriously because you’re going to be taking care of me when I’m an old lady.

But you also know me. And tradition, while nice, is not all that important to me.  It’s good to know our roots but slavish following of what was done before is just foolish.

And you’re not just the future. You’re the now. You’re changing the world already. You’ve changed it already. You’re the role models to the kids in your neighborhoods, to your relatives, to the people who think they are unimportant in our society because our society shows them every day that they are not valued—the immigrants, the working class, the poor. Some of you are the first college graduate in your family, like I was. Through this achievement alone, you’ve already changed the entire trajectory of your family’s American history.  

That’s a pretty big responsibility for people so relatively young. But so far, you’re pulling it off with grace.

You’re a very lucky group people—you’re Union graduates. I’m not saying this because I’m at Union, but this is a school of which to be proud. Graduating from here grants you access to a different world, and your degree is a great gift. You worked very hard for that gift, but it’s still a gift thanks to the wonderful AOP/HEOP program that brought you to a school you might not otherwise have been able to attend.

But there’s a catch, and the gift comes with strings.  “to whom much has been given, much will be required” and no, I’m not paraphrasing Uncle Ben. He was paraphrasing the book of Luke, a much older source of wisdom.

The strings are in the choices you make. Humans are such interesting animals. They fascinate me. They are capable of much baseness and evil, and we see this every single day. yet at their best, they are brilliant. Most, though, choose mediocrity.  They take the easy path of going along to get along. They lose the spark and fade into age. 

Tonight, I am giving you a charge: Choose rightly: be magnificent. 

Choose whatever path you want to follow in life, even if you have to create the path as you go, but travel on that path with gusto. If you do something, do it flat out, no holds barred. Don’t hold back. As Emerson wrote, “Don’t be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.”

 This is a difficult choice I’m asking you to make. I know it. It is easier to hold back, to not give everything of one’s self. In the eyes of the world, it’s smarter. Protect yourself, they tell us. Don’t “wear your heart on your sleeve”. And for goodness sake, don’t be uncool. Chill, don’t be too enthusiastic. Not cool, man.

Edna St. Vincent Millay had this to say to them: “My candle burns at both ends; it will not last the night; but ah, my foes, and oh, my friends – it gives a lovely light!”

Be a child of light. Continue to be an illumination to this world. That is the charge I’m giving you.

And do it with love—let that be the source of your power because it really can move mountains and change the world.

In “Praise Song for the Day,” Elizabeth Alexander’s poem written for Barack Obama’s inauguration, she wrote:

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,

others by first do no harm or take no more

than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,

love that casts a widening pool of light,

love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

I love those words. Love that casts a widening pool of light–what an image!  Can’t you just see the light of disinterested love widening from each person, enveloping one another in that healing, caring light–the light that drives out darkness?  As Dr. Martin Luther King tells us, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that; hate cannot drive out hatred, only love can do that.“

These are the things that will change this world for the better. And I charge you to try.

And since you’re going to be busy being magnificent you will change the world. As Gandhi said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Do you want a kinder world? Be kind. More just? Be just.  Whatever you do, do with thought.  Ask: What are the ramifications of my action?

Again, this is not an easy path. But have I ever asked you to take the easy way? The easy way’s not worth it. This is a hard won, stony path to choose. It is so much easier to be thoughtless. To react instead of acting from thought. Take it from me, I know. But you will never regret anything you do or say if you act and don’t react.

Over the years I’ve sold raffle tickets, baked countless cookies and brownies for bake sales (and unfortunately bought countless cookies and brownies from bake sales), done walk-a-thons, dance-a-thons, and one memorable year in a college, a diet-a-thon.  They probably wouldn’t be allowed anymore, as they sound like something that’s not encouraging healthy diet. But people sponsored us a set amount per pound. It went from the Friday before Spring break and ran for two weeks. The school nurse did the official weigh-in on her office scale.

My history professor, Dr. Vanderhoof, sponsored me a whopping dollar a pound (every one else was doing 10, maybe 25 cents). To both of our amazement, I lost 14 pounds, a feat I have never repeated in such a short time span, and have never forgotten. Much celery was involved.  Dr. Vanderhoof cheerfully forked over the money that went to the Council for Exceptional Children and became one of my favorite professors (for more than just  the sponsorship, really).

I’m not saying Americans are the most charitable group going, but a large percentage of Americans hand over money to friends for everything from cancer research to school book drives to animal shelter drives. These are the yearly events. Americans are usually pretty good at chipping in to the Red Cross for disaster relief for things like Katrina, Haiti and the new disasters in America’s south right now, as well. 

Checking to see if my hunch about Americans was correct, I found some amazing statistics.  According to the National Parks Service,

According to Giving USA, a report compiled annually by the American Association of Fundraising Counsel, figures on American philanthropy showed that:

• Americans gave more than $307.75 billion to their favorite causes despite the economic conditions in 2009. Total giving, when adjusted for inflation, was down 3.6 percent, the steepest decline since the Giving USA annual reports started in 1956. It’s important to keep in mind that despite the downturn, giving still totaled $307 billion.
• The greatest portion of charitable giving, $227.41 billion, was given by individuals or household donors. In 2009, gifts from individuals represented 75 percent of all contributed dollars, similar to 2008 figures.

I think those are pretty cool numbers. 

And in the essay “A Nation of Givers” from the journal The American: the Journal of the American Enterprise Institute, I found this incredible little bit of information:

when we measure monetary giving as a percentage of income in order to ascertain the level of one’s “sacrifice,” we find a surprising result: it is low-income working families that are the most generous group in America, giving away about 4.5 percent of their income on average. This compares to about 2.5 percent among the middle class, and 3 percent among high-income families.

Nice to know I’m helping the numbers of my demographic!

And I know the charity habit starts young. I did my first walk-a-thon, for the March of Dimes, when I was 10. It was 20 miles, people sponsored per mile, and that first year, I only walked 10 miles and was broken-hearted.

It seems that lately there’s a walk-a-thon once or twice a month, and blessedly, they are much shorter.  This coming Sunday is the AIDS WALK NY, and I’m walking in honor of all the friends I’ve lost over the years.  Since I’m not above shilling for charity, if you’d like to sponsor me, you can find the link to my page here.  I’m walking with the Harry Potter Alliance Team because a) you know I’m a Harry Potter geek, and b) “the weapon we have is love”.

And frankly, people who want to doubt are going to doubt. Even if the photos are released, and the president has vowed not to release them, there will be those who cry “Photoshop”. So really, releasing them isn’t necessary.

The kill has been confirmed by Al-Qaeda itself. I don’t really think Al-Qaeda cares about Obama’s approval ratings. I don’t think its leadership has an interest in making the US look “good”.  Of course, my mind can do paranoid and conspiracy as well as the next guy’s. Maybe bin Laden is still alive, and well, the US is lying to make itself look good and Al-Qaeda is lying to reenergize itself. They haven’t been as popular as late, you know. They had no role in the liberation movements that have been happening throughout the Middle East. This is a perfect way to drum up support, having their leader be “dead”. But truly, I don’t think so.

Conspiracy theories have been around as long as there have been people. Do governments lie? Yes. Can governments be fully trusted? No. Should they? No. But does that mean everything that a government does is bad because, by definition, governments are evil and everything said is a lie? No.

During war, bad things happen. Soldiers are trained to kill and are rewarded for doing it well.  Decisions are made in less than an instant and unless I was there, I am not going to second guess a soldier’s actions in the heat of an attack. As George Orwell wrote in his 1945 essay “Notes on Nationalism,” “Those who ‘abjure’ violence can only do so because others are committing violence on their behalf.” I don’t like that uncomfortable truth, but there it is. I live in a world in which violence is used by nations on a regular basis. As an idealist, I wish that weren’t so. But as a thinking human, I know it is. I can work to change it, but in the meantime, battles rage.

Do I question the legality of the raid? Yes. The US did violate another country’s sovereignty to carry it out.  Do I understand the realpolitik thinking behind the decision?  Of course. I do think the US should be above reproof not because it’s the US and what it does is inherently “right,” but because its actions are right and proper indeed. On the other hand, this “War on Terror” has changed the art of war . No longer are the combatants clearly defined. War against a thing and not a nation? How can this work? Obviously not well, at all. But the world is changing, so the rules of war are changing as well.  How can the old rules work when the board and players are radically different?

And humans like to think we’ve changed, too. We  are civilized and compassionate. We have learned much about violence and how it’s a bad thing. Yet we still want the world “safe for democracy”. We want our peaceful comfortable lives. We want to “fight the good fight”. As long as no one dies, is injured, is damaged in any way.   People want Al-Qaeda gone. They want the terrorism to end. We send soldiers to fight, searching for the terrorists and those soldiers die or are injured. And people are shocked.  What part of “going to war brings death” are they confused about, I wonder.

We are constantly shocked and outraged about “women and children” and “innocent civilians” being killed during attacks. I don’t want to see children killed, or women, or civilian men, but since when is it a surprise that it happens? Once upon a time wars might have been taken place in battles outside a town or city on a field, but even when the fighting was mostly hand-to-hand, civilians got caught in the crossfire.  Children went to battle on a regular basis. If family legend is true, my own great-grandfather was in the Crimean war at the age of 10, sent as a bugler, but still on the battlefield. 

I am not saying these deaths are right or are to be accepted. What I’m saying is why the shock? What do we expect? A bloodless war?

We want it all–all the benefits of war without the drawbacks. This would be great if we could figure out how to stop human beings from resorting to war, but we can’t. Why? Because human nature doesn’t really change.

“Osama bin Laden is dead. Prez about to speak” read the text from my sister.

I immediately put on the computer and the TV and called my son out to watch.  And history unfolded itself in front of my eyes for the second time in a weekend, but this was much more somber news.  I’ve been meaning to write about it since it happened, but I have no time. I work 70 hours a week, sometimes more. Leaves little time for thinking much less writing.

So many emotions. I teach many vets and active service people, so my first thoughts went to them. Maybe they weren’t part of the raid, but they played their roles in the War on Terror.  I have students who are in Afghanistan, so of course I worry but my overwhelming emotion was pride–I’m proud to be their teacher because they are the best. All of them have volunteered to face a danger most of us cannot conceive of ever facing, and while they are at it, they earn their college degree.

I watched the president’s speech. I liked it. I followed Twitter. I was disgusted by tasteless jokes and impressed by deep thoughts that can be conveyed in 140 characters. The talking heads came on right after the speech, and I pretty much tuned them out. The 24/7 news cycle has destroyed thought in this country, at least, probably elsewhere, as well.  

Because I live in NYC, local news programs had many of the WTC victim’s family members. Each one spoke movingly. Almost all said this was a time for somber reflection not jubilation, a sentiment I share.  I watched till 1AM, but since I get up at 6, I soon had to force myself to bed.

The next morning, reaction in my classroom was mixed. Relief, joy, fear, disinterest, disbelief.  As a whole, I think that matched the rest of the country.

Today President Obama came to NYC to visit Ground Zero. He also visited a fire station in my neighborhood that lost every man on duty that morning.

All week I’ve been wanting to write, but now when I’ve carved out a little time to do so, nothing is coming. Sitting here I realize I feel numb, and I don’t know why. I think in part it’s attributable to this being the last two weeks of classes, so work has become intense. I’m tired from a year of teaching, exhausted from having to work three jobs to survive. I’ve come to the conclusion that while it’s a good sense of closure for the families that bin Laden is dead, I’m far more concerned with America’s crumbling economy and wealth inequity, and to be honest, my own state of underemployment for the past three years.

I have two students facing eviction next week–just in time for finals. Many of my students have just learned that due to budget cuts they won’t be able to finish their degrees on time.  They are more real to me than someone a half a world away.

There is much to think about, of course, and for someone who sincerely cares about America, this numbness is a frightening, much more frightening than any terrorist threat.  

 I know I’m not saying anything of value here, but I couldn’t let this momentous event pass uncommented upon. I couldn’t come back in a few weeks and write about something without pausing to at least mention something so important here in America. 

Good riddance to bin Laden.

Well, for William and Catherine’s wedding, I think the whole world is heaving that sigh. It’s over. We can stop talking about it all the time.

Because it seems the whole world went crazy. I don’t really understand why. One blog I read (can’t remember where), attributed it to the “Diana factor”–that people are interested in William because of his mother. Maybe.  That might have been part of why I watched, but then I’m an 18th century British literature scholar by training. I think I’m contractually obligated to be interested in British pomp and circumstances.

But back in 1981, Diana fascinated me because we were the same age. I was far too young to be serious about a guy at that age, and there she was, marrying a prince. Cool. Odd, but cool. Then came William.  I was working as a reporter for a news service at the time, and my boss was covering the Saratoga horse sales, a big annual event. She always sold a lot of stories about it, so she invested some good money to stay there for the week and get lots of details.  She came back from that trip so mad she was sputtering. “All that investment, and that damn baby had to come and blow the horse sales news out of the water.” Papers were full of the new royal heir with no room for horse stories. I wonder if she’s forgiven him yet.

When Diana died, I was actually dating a man who had worked at Highgrove, Charles’s country estate. He had known her and was devastated at her death. Totally gutted, actually. He had told me stories of young William that made the prince seem more like a person to me. But more than that, I lost my dad  at 11, so I knew what it was like for the two young boys to lose a parent so suddenly and so young. Frankly, it is horrible. Yet, I was also a mom, so my heart went out to them from the adult perspective, as well.

But the boys grew up fine, more or less, and frankly, I don’t really care about them either way. I wish them no ill, but I don’t pay much attention, either. But as I wrote last week, a wedding is a wedding. So yes, I was up at 5AM watching the arrivals and then the ceremony. Just as the bride and groom arrived back at the palace, I had to dash out to work.

Frankly, I can understand dishing about it now that it’s over. That’s the fun part, the rehashing and the looking at the pretty pictures. But why did the world go so mad? Are we so overwhelmed by all the bad that’s happening that we have to get caught up in other people’s lives? Have we become such a celebrity-driven culture that a Windsor wedding, at the top of the celebrity heap, so to speak, draws all focus? Is it the Diana factor? Probably a mixture of all. 

I can understand the British going mad, but why did the American media whip up such a frenzy? I remember the first time I “experienced” a royal wedding.  It was Princess Anne to Mark Philips in November of 1973.  There was enough mention that a 12-year-old girl in America knew about it, but  back then I was also a huge Tudor geek.  I was obsessed with the Tudor family for some reason, so royalty interested me. Oh, and I saw a picture of the bride-to-be’s younger brother, Andrew, who was just about my age and, in to my 12-year-old mind, cute. So I got interested. I got up early and watched the wedding (and to my everlasting delight, Anne’s dress was an Elizabethan design–cue the Tudor fan-girl swoon).  But what’s the big deal to Americans? Why the unrelenting press coverage?

Princess Victoria of Sweden’s wedding barely made a splash over here. And she’s just as pretty as Catherine. And she’s next in line to the throne, not third like William. Why do Americans worship the Windsors? We certainly don’t understand the least thing about royalty. I was looking at People Magazine’s coverage of the wedding (pictures!), and was struck at how many nuances of royalty the reporters seem to miss. OK, and I was struck at how much I actually know.  But why the madness? 

Is it jealousy? Do we want royalty? I don’t think so at all. Based on talks I have with people and what I hear, most Americans have no idea of what it really means to be a subject, not a citizen. A hereditary head of state goes against everything we believe in as a nation. And really, this obsession is a relatively new phenomenon. Maybe it is the “Diana factor”.

All I know is I’m glad it’s over. Back to the every day. Back to the bad news–there’s a natural disaster than needs attention in America’s southland; there’s a space shuttle launch this very afternoon. So time to get back to real life.

But before I go, here’s the dish: loved her dress. Classic style beautifully done. The hats! Really, Beatrice, what were you thinking? The sermon was lovely–full of my favorite words–love, future, hope. And Prince Andrrew is sooooo not cute anymore.

Best wishes to the happy couple. a long and happy life together.

We pretty much hate one another.

This is quite strange to me, considering the Revolution ended 228 years ago. But people have long memories, I guess. Or something.

Probably more the something.

There’s a lot of sniping going back and forth over the monarchy and whether people care about the wedding. Two people are getting married. I have no personal insights into either of them, but in my book a wedding is always nice. And royal weddings are fun to watch because they are just done so nicely.  So in today’s world, with killings and war and a country that’s falling apart thanks to inequity in tax laws and education and all the other things plaguing us (America, I mean, but I guess the UK has similar problems) a wedding is a nice respite.

Until I hit the internet. I’ll look at a story, mostly to avoid grading papers, the bane of my life right now, and boom–Americans insulting the British. British people bashing the Americans. Why? I don’t get it. Really, we have more in common than most countries.

The worst, of course, are in the comments people can post.

“Ma! Why do you read them? You know those people are crazy,” my son warns me. He’s right, I know. But I can’t help myself. I am amazed anew at how stupid people are–how hateful, ignorant and just so willing to share that with the world.

But it is also interesting to see the inherent snarkiness when the BBC reports on America. Now I love BBC America, and as a proud Doctor Who fan, I’m glad we have them. Makes my life easier to get my fix. And really, the BBC produces quality television, and I’d be more than willing to chip in and pay a licensing fee to access their materials on-line. But there’s no denying that corporate BBC takes a rather superior tone when discussing Americans. We’re so quaint. British newspapers often take the same tone. We’re just so naive and gullible, oh, and let’s not forget ignorant.  And fat and loud, while we’re at it.

American newspapers and television aren’t exempt from dishing out biased stereotypes. Them Brits–either effete snobs or football hooligans, right? But they do a mean period drama. And sure, most Americans don’t “get” the whole royalty thing. Many Americans I know see the royal family (of anywhere) as just another type of celebrity, and we manufacture them by the cart load over here–no big deal. The royals are just around longer. But I’ve been disgusted with the press on this side of the pond, too.

Why do we hate each other so?  I know why my relatives were a little touchy about Britain, being of Irish extraction. But I also know that the cousins who were the most rabid haters of Britain (and they are pretty much gone now) couldn’t have found Ireland on a map. Of course, they couldn’t have found Kansas, either. They just knew the British are the bad guys. At a family wake, a cousin castigated me for traveling to England. “Why give them a dime of our money?”

Well, because London is a great city?  I love England. I love America, too, and Italy and Ireland and Taiwan, and well, you get the picture.  When I go to England I feel right at home. We share a language, a heritage, and much to the chagrin of a lot of people, a shockingly similar DNA. When I’m in England, most people don’t realize I’m American till I speak, quietly, but with a definite New York accent. No one has said, oh, you’re so American, except for the Welsh ex-boyfriend who commented on my “big, American teeth”. Genetics, buddy. Never had braces or dental work. But I am very American.

There’s really no reason for us to hate one another. But people love to hate, don’t they? And we can do it so well.  Let’s snipe at one another–keeps us from expending energy on fixing what is wrong with our respective countries. It just amazes me that something as benign as a wedding shows the deep rifts between our two countries.  Of course, I’ve never known a wedding that didn’t cause all sorts of sniping and anger, so in this way, I guess poor William and Catherine are having a “people’s wedding”.

But obviously, this hatred is bothering me enough to put aside the grading to write about it.  Although we share a language and aspects of our culture, we have been officially separate countries for 228 years, so why is it a surprise to people that we’re different on a number of levels? And why do we hate what’s different? Oh, right, because we’re humans. And humans are a very strange species.

Surprise, surprise! He was a human being, and humans are flawed. But the good he did far outweighs any of the bad and in my accounting, that’s what counts.

I’m a professor at a public university because education is the way to change lives and promote equality. I believe this deep in my soul. It’s no secret to readers of this blog that I really do believe that love is all we need and love will light the way and all that hippie stuff of my childhood. Or more precisely, all that Transcendentalist stuff I drank in when reading Alcott as a child. And all the charismatic Catholic social justice stuff my mom taught me. I was doomed from childhood to be an idealist, and that’s all there is to it.  No wonder I have an activist Christian preacher as a hero.

But this is a rough world for idealists. Lately I find myself discouraged. I have students in the South Bronx of New York City who tell me that they never heard of Martin Luther King in school. I’m not sure whether or not to believe them, and I suspect they never heard of King because they weren’t listening, but still, this is disheartening.  I know my students overseas know King. In fact, America’s civil rights struggles are very interesting to those abroad.  They love reminding me (as if I needed it) that America has a troubling past when it comes to race. Find me a place that doesn’t, though.  Sometimes I sense a little spite in their glee.

I seem to live in a world consumed by hate, anger and nastiness. Reading the papers is a chore that I will put off for days at a time sometimes. I used to read three papers a day, but lately Twitter is about all I can handle. Actually, Twitter keeps me abreast of most things, and 140 characters on the topic is about all I can take at times.

I think that’s one reason why I haven’t been blogging as much as I used to. I’m so overwhelmed. There is so much that needs fixing.  What would Dr. King think if he were still alive?

Things are definitely better than they were in 1968. There are President Obama, Secretaries of State Rice and Powell for starters. I know many young people who don’t even “see” race and this fills me with joy.

Statistics still stink, though. According to the National Poverty Center at the University of Michigan, Blacks and Hispanics have higher poverty rates than other groups (see NPC’s Poverty facts). A lot of this ties to education. Blacks, especially Black men, are less likely to finish high school, especially here in NYC.  In 2006, two-thirds of young Black men in NYC didn’t graduate on time. These statistics chill me. We are wasting one of our most precious resources! Black men are also over represented in correctional facilities, which leads in turn to the finishing high school problem.

I teach a number of the success stories, the young men who graduated high school or earned a GED. Like their female counterparts, most have terrible academic skills, weak vocabularies and below par reading ability. They are bright, and they want to succeed, but they don’t know how. I’m told by people who study these things at my school that nationwide, 75% of those who start at community colleges in America never finish. How can they succeed when they aren’t prepared?  Of course, I have a number who do graduate. And many of them go on to four year schools, even Ivy Leagues. As I tell my students, anyone can get into CUNY, but if you get out with a diploma, you can go anywhere.

Black and Hispanic women have similar problems, of course, and they are over represented in the teenage pregnancy statistics. Too many American teens are getting pregnant, but Black and Hispanic women are three times more likely to been teen moms here in New York.  Going to school takes hard work. Going to school with a baby? Not good odds there. Not impossible, though. Some of my best students are former teen moms who have realized the importance of education in order to make their children’s lives better.

It all gets back to education with me, doesn’t it? But I think Dr. King would agree. After all, his doctorate isn’t honorary. He earned a PhD from Boston University in 1955 at the incredibly young age of 26.  He pushed through and got the degree. PhDs aren’t worth much in American society, believe me, but they represent something. They show, on some level, that education is important. It’s not the only thing, but it’s something.

So today as we remember Dr. King, I want to thank all those who still work for the dream. I’m a battered idealist, but I’m an idealist all the same. And as long as there are people out there working, the Dream stays alive.

And I can only say Amen to these famous words:

“Now, I say to you today my friends, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: / we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” I Have a Dream Speech, 1963.