“Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth, you owe me. A love like that lights the whole sky.”
Hafiz
Author: Juliana Lightle
Cheating, Stealing
The story that follows keeps running through my mind, disturbing my inner peace. It occurred several weeks ago while I worked. As a teacher I take plagiarism seriously. Repeatedly, I explain that it is cheating and ultimately a form of stealing. Yes, stealing. When students cheat, copy another’s work whether from some famous author or from the student by them, they are stealing from that person, and in reality cheating themselves, cheating themselves from learning what may have proven to be valuable information or a needed skill later in life.
Several weeks ago, a former, talented student asked to observe my classes as part of his assignment from a college class. He sat in on a couple of classes, many of the students already knew him, and I explained his purpose in being there. At the end of the day, while we chatted about the past and his excellent grades when he attended my English class, he informed me that he frequently writes not only his own papers but also the papers for another student, who was also a former student and perfectly able to write decent papers himself. He told me that the student for whom he writes these papers pays him either with money or beer. Too astonished to adequately respond, I kept silent. However, this continues to haunt me, not only because my opinion of the student plummeted but also because he plans to be a coach and teacher himself. Will he later realize the unacceptability of his behavior, how unethical and immoral? Will he change when he becomes a teacher himself?
I also remain unhappy with myself for not saying something to him immediately. My shock really is not an excuse. I now promise myself that if I do see him again soon, I will definitely explain my dismay and sadness with his story. I also wonder why he told me? Regardless, I worry for the future if this is the type of person who will replace current teachers. I also wonder how many current teachers find this sort of behavior normal, acceptable.
Unconditional Love
All the beautiful flowers I see today, Mother’s Day 2017, make me think of my mother. She loved flowers, especially roses, horses, music, beauty. When I think of her, I also think of unconditional love. Even when young and I sometimes thought she expected too much of me, I still knew she loved me no matter what the circumstances and always would. For this I feel unending gratitude. As a teacher, it has become very clear to me that many children do not experience the kind of love my mother gave me. She died suddenly many years ago. Her love will never leave me. Thank you, Mom, wherever you are!!
Spring
I love:
sunrise
mockingbirds
wildflowers
iris
breezes
mowing
sunsets
night hawks
Omnipotence: The Ultimate Homage to Male Dominance as Control by Carol P. Christ
I follow Carol Christ for a variety of reasons including her words often make me think about ideas, concepts, controversies in new ways.
The concept of divine omnipotence is the ultimate expression of male dominance as control. Divine omnipotence is the view that everything that happens in the world happens according to the will of a divinity, who is in control of everything that happens in the world. When someone dies or great suffering occurs, we are told, “everything happens for a purpose,” “it was meant to be,” or “everything happens according to the will of God—or Goddess.” In our recent book Goddess and God in the World, Judith Plaskow and I criticize and reject this view on both rational and moral grounds.
The doctrine of divine omnipotence is widely assumed, not only in Christian theologies, but in Islam and to a lesser extent in Judaism. Moreover, it is also to be found in western metaphysical and mystery traditions and in the many New Age and Goddess theologies based upon them. Thus…
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Celebrating Earth Day–Photos
I decided the best way I should share my reverence and love for nature and this precious planet on which we live is to share photos from various countries, states, and my own little piece of wonder.
The three photos above were taken at Palo Duro Canyon State Park in Texas about ten minutes from where I live.
Above and below the Rio Grande looking into Mexico.
Four photos above — Big Bend National Park.
Between Marfa and Alpine, Texas.
The Rio Grande north of Albuquerque on the Santa Ana Pueblo Nation.
The above four photos taken in Simien Mountain National Park, Ethiopia. The animals are gelada–the only surviving grass eating primates found solely in Ethiopia. They actually “talk” to each other.
Menelik’s Window, Ethiopia
Awash Falls, Ethiopia
Where the Blue Nile begins draining from Lake Tana, Ethiopia
The photos above were taken at various places in Costa Rica.
Northern New Mexico
Grand Canyon North Rim
The Missouri River running full.
California dropping down from Sequoia National Monument
Near Lake Marvin, Texas
The above photos were all taken within the last year on my little rim of wonder.
And finally below, my favorite animal.
Sunday Poem–A Life
I wrote the first blog post about this in February, a second a few weeks later. The following poem I wrote a week ago but never posted: too upset, too sad, too filled with regrets I could have no way fixed because I did not even know all the story. He remained unconscious for two months from late January until March 22. It seems strange that the memories of a life I lived so long ago, mostly forgotten, could surge into so many waking moments now years later. Life: always filled with wonder, surprises.
yesterday we put his body in the ground
the wind blew through the trees
whispering green spring, beauty
yesterday we put his body in the ground
the man I loved, beautiful mahogany velvet
dazzled the world with his smile
yesterday we put his body in the ground
my daughter’s father, standing with family
some we had never seen before, worldwide
yesterday we put his body in the ground
watched a life flash by, slides from baby
to our life long ago, other lives and children
yesterday we put his body in the ground
family, friends, two of his children
a life struck down, too suddenly, too soon
In honor of the life of Kenneth A. Mowoe
You will not be forgotten, your memory lives on with me, your family, your children and grandchildren, your friends. Peace. Love.
Sunday Poem: Shallow Water
dance by the light of the new moon
chant songs to shallow water
watch the eyes of horses, wolf frightened
obsidian, wide, eternal
A Week of Wonder and Flowers
This past week was my birthday. The wonder started a week ago when my friends came for dinner and my friend’s father, visiting from Mexico. brought me red roses. I had not seen my friends in a long time and it was fun. Then on Sunday, Roberto, the father, and I went hiking in Palo Duro Canyon on a new trail. I never saw a name for it.
We found this trail by starting at Chinaberry (for those who go to the Canyon), taking Comanche Trail up to this new trail. When they intersect, we went north rather than south on Comanche.
If you read the previous blog in December about hiking Comanche, you saw this peak but from the center and to the south. This is a view from the north looking south.
Eventually, after hiking up and down across an arroyo, you end up above the river which looks tiny here, but when a big rain comes, it can rise many feet in a few hours. It was very sunny, I had a hard time focusing so occasionally a finger got in the way.
Roberto has a funny sense of humor. He could not resist pretending to hold up one of the many giant boulders along the trail.
This is not a difficult walk and not too long if you only have a few hours. We came across a group of wild turkeys, but they moved so much, I was unable to get a good photo so gave up.
Wednesday was my birthday. It began with my first period class–I teach senior high school English. They showered the room with confetti, brought me a giant chocolate muffin with a candle in the middle, lit the candle and sang me Happy Birthday. Then during second period, two of my students arrived with two bouquets of flowers. The room smelled wonderful for three days. I brought the flowers home yesterday in a big box.
My grandson told the florist to make me a giant bouquet with exotic flowers. This is one side of it. Orchids, roses, hydrangeas, and some really unusual flowers which I cannot identify.
This is the other side of the same bouquet.
This bouquet is from my son. He knows my favorite color is orange and that I have a lot of that color in my house so….
I am seriously nerdy and asked for an atlas for my birthday. My daughter outdid herself and bought this one full of all sorts of information I never expected and maps. I love maps. When I read a book from Latin America, Africa, etc., I look up the places on maps.
Last night I sang songs, using the poems of Octavio Paz and Pablo Neruda among others, with the Amarillo Master Chorale in a church with perfect acoustics for choral music. Tonight I will see friends at an opera party. What a wonderful week!!
Spring Break Adventure–5
On the fourth day of the adventure we went to Marfa, Texas. My friends from college, David and Suzy, had booked a tour of the Chinati Foundation. No photos of that because none allowed. This foundation is the dream of its founder, Donald Judd. His art and almost all the rest of the art housed here is not for display in houses. All but a few consist of grand studies of space and light. An abandoned, refurbished military base, purchased by Judd, houses most of the exhibits. Judd’s main interest it seems relates to the relationship between light and space. First, the tour guide takes you to a couple of large buildings where the only changes made were to install new windows and a ceiling. These buildings house Judd’s large, polished, stainless steel rectangular boxes. While this may sound boring, I assure you it is not. Light reflects off these boxes, makes shadows, etc. in all sorts of ways and the entire effect changes with the angles of the sunlight.
Another quite astonishing display can be seen in a series of U-shaped buildings, painted and repaired, in which eight foot long fluorescent light tubes in four colors, pink, green, yellow, and blue, have been installed in the corners of the U. Depending on where a person stands, other colors appear, not just the four mentioned. It became apparent to me that the artist, Dan Flavin, knew every scientific detail of the color spectrum and its effects on the human eye and brain.
I also enjoyed a smaller display by artist and poet, Carl Andre. Even though his fame rests in sculpture, it is mainly his poetry displayed here. I wanted to read all of it but everyone else went on so I quit.
There are other exhibits, including a lot of smashed and welded vehicles which I liked the least. The final exhibit displays giant fabric sheets in black and white in a building specially designed by the artist, Robert Irwin. If you think this sounds boring, take a trip there and look for yourself. I assure you it is not. Irwin actually worked on the exhibit himself at the age of 88. He lives on now at 89.
The only photos I managed in the area show the Marfa Courthouse which is, believe it or not, even a brighter pink than this photo and a photo from the vehicle window on the highway to Alpine. The second photo shows a mesa we managed to view on one day or another from nearly all sides. It looms large in the middle of flat land. Here one of the endless trains slides by.
On our last day we decided to drive to Presidio and take the river road which goes through Rio Grande Ranch State Park. While the road goes either along or down to the river in a few places (for people to put some sort of water craft into the river or to camp), most of it is way above the river on cliffs. This landscape is not for the faint of heart.
US on the right and Mexico on the left. The fields and pasture in the distance are in Mexico.
Looking into Mexico.
Unusual rock formations near one of the small drives down to a campground by the river.
Cliffs in Mexico.
Apparently, in my efforts not to fall in the river while taking this, my finger got in the way.
Yes, the river is down there between those cliffs.
In case you wonder why the Rio Grande seems so small here, consider that by the time it gets here, 95% of the water has been removed for irrigation and other purposes.
We drove back through Terlingua to Alpine. Not much exists in Terlingua except a rather pathetic supposed ghost town area. The river road is not conducive to speed; we were hungry and stopped for a very late lunch. It was St. Patrick’s Day and many of the clientele had a good start on the festivities. On Saturday I learned that Terlingua is a famous biker town. However, apparently not that day.
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