retiring …

… from YMCA of Chattanooga. A long-time employee who has been working with the north River facility: after decades of working for the Y, it seems possible she is looking forward to: nothing. Not getting up and going to work, not being a problem solver or the person who might have a phone call in the middle of the night presenting a crisis in need of urgent intervention.

She reports having been an employee of the YMCA in Cleveland, one of the metro branches, in a town some miles to the east of Chattanooga. The Cleveland facility has just undergone a major renovation, fundraising to complete a lot of updates, changes, new equipment, adding classes and programs to better serve their membership and draw in more participants from the community. This director started her job there in Cleveland, working as part of the membership/recruitment team, apparently demonstrating sufficient drive and effort to be promoted over many years of dedicated work and become the branch manager of the North River facility on Hixson Pike in Chattanooga.

The person who is the director of this particular branch, has been on the payroll for decades and reports she does not have a plan: waiting for the Lord to intervene and show her what the next step is. Not so uncommon these days, when people have been reliable diligent consistent employees for years and now just happy to contemplate the idea of no alarm clocks, and no reason to be the person who is considered the ‘fireman’ with the expectation of response no matter the problem. Likely to enjoy a few months of turning over when the brain fires up at the usual time, and thinking: Not today!

We meant to make two of the charcuterie trays, as the drop-in reception starts at ten am in the morning. But someone ordered far too much finger food for the trays available: hence four instead of two. Wrapped securely with food wrap and refrigerated for delivery tomorrow. Crackers will travel separately to stay fresh and crisp. Likely far more than the attendees will consume, but with employees invited to graze on what might be left after the festivities and formalities end, hopefully it will all be enjoyed by workers and members the Y.

book review: “Brother to a Dragonfly”…

… by Will Campbell. Originally published decades ago, reprinted with a foreword by former President Jimmy Carter. Campbell was born in rural Mississippi in 1924, and died in Tennessee in 1913. Spent years as a United Methodist Church pastor, and ardent civil rights worker across the southern states, where he was notable for being outspoken on racial equality. Often belitted and opposed by the older brother he was so devoted to, Campbell was a man of compassion and devotion to his family.

As children and youths, the two boys spent years roaming the hills and valleys, forests and waterways of the land of their birth, with the younger Will following in the footsteps of his older sibling. From a young age, most realized the ‘call’ that brought Will into the ministry, and lead him into a life of searching for racial equality for the less fortunate. His brother, struggling to find his place in society, floundered much of his life, eventually becoming a pharmacist, but struggled with substance abuse, social dysfunction, martial problems most of his life.

Campbell was in various aspects of Christian ministry all his adult life, starting as a chaplain, doing campus work at the University of Mississippi, eventually active in the National Council of Churches, as well as a number of civil rights organizations on the national level. A strong supporter and believer in racial equality, he was often criticized for his efforts to minister to the KKK across the south, urging members to show more compassion and tolerance. He was well acquainted with a number of civil rights advocates including Martin Luther King and John Lewis, plus many of the younger, hot-headed younger generation. Campbell also befriended Clarence Jordan, one the founders of a farm in southwest Georgia known as Koinonia, created as a Christian living commune-type community , meant to be an environment designed for racial harmony, supporting diversity as the members planted and harvested crops.

book review: “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks”…

… by Rebecca Skloot.The book is nearly four hundred pages long, with a section at the end for groups interested in questions suitable for discussion. So much material, ethical and moral dilemmas through out the dense and well researched tale one would not need to search through the story, presented over many years to find disturbing details to ponder, discuss, doubt over.

Henrietta was born in Virginia, in a family of poor tobacco farmers, with multiple siblings who worked the fields from a very young age. She died in 1951, after being treated for cervical cancer at Johns Hopkins Hospital. The treatments were traumatic, painful and caused much misery at the end of her life. Understandably: the treatments her white male medical team believed might prolong life were dehumanizing often experimental. As were many of the ways blacks and women were treated in that time,considered ignorant, second-class citizens and subject to the ways educated, professionals would demand they respond.

Her cervical cells were harvested without her consent. Decades before the medical and legal community thought of the ramifications, and HIPPA guidelines were existed, considered or there was any way to enforce the removal of tissue, organs, transplanting. Even today, human organs cannot legally be bought or sold: only donated. These particular cancer cells, taken with the knowledge of HeLa or her family (who also did not knowingly agree to an autopsy to remove more of the contaminated tissue) still live in labs and research facilities around the world.

Much of the densely worded book has details of her family life and difficulties the poorly educated, poverty siblings, nieces and nephews have dealt with over the decades since the death of Henrietta. Her actual name, identity was not known for years, as she was often mis-named, with her first or last name misspelled, garbled. Not necessarily for protecting her or family, just improperly assigned. The cervical cells have been on the market, sold for decades, without the family receiving any benefit, monetary support.

seen on the corner…

… of Market Street and 23rd. Posted on a utility pole, observed while sitting at the intersection, waiting for the traffic signal to change. The sign was apparently made and installed by someone who does not think highly of the current administration, or the way the White House is being dissembled piece-meal at the whim of the current resident. Without any regard or authorization from those who have responsibility for maintenance and upkeep, deciding to destroy public property that has been in place so long it is is registered as a National Historic Landmark.

Not responsible for bad grammer.

The person who lives in the White House and has made some really self-serving decisions about the property as well as authorizing construction and de-construction projects that he had no actual ability to decide has been such a blatant, narcissistic, egotistical, misogynistic laughable character, how does anyone take him seriously? Those things he has done to the place where he lives have been so inappropriate for the appearance and character of the historic building, the results have been horrifying: as well as not legal, requiring authorization he has by-passed on an executive whim. A man who seems to care nothing for historic precedent, appearance as applied to centuries of standards, the guidelines set forth in the US Constitution, good manners or common sense.

waiting …

… for weeks for the rain that usually comes in August. Those days of endless pounding rains when drenching storms come up from the Gulf or off the Atlantic coast with floods of hurricane velocity. Officially from June until the end of November, the state of Florida was well as coastal areas from Texas up into New England have learned to be wary and pro-active preparing for storms that cause catastrophic damage.

The good news is: that rain will cause the spider lily bulbs to start to put forth the narrow stalks that will make those surprise lily blooms. The stalks, about the diameter of a drinking straw, will suddenly shoot up from below the level of the lawn, grow, make a bright red bloom on the end of the stem. Soon the narrow green strap-like foliage will appear, that provides the bulb with the energy to produce more flowers the following growing season, as well as generate smaller bulb-lets around the mother that can be divided in order to relocate the bulbs to other areas or share with neighbors.

Like most bulb plants, being willing to leave the foliage after the flowering is over is necessary, though many gardeners are reluctant to let shabby greenery remain. The greenery is essential for providing the bulb the energy to produce flowers in the next growing season. Bulbs often considered as early spring flowering plants like daffodils, narcissus, as well as some later flowering plants that produce a ‘corm’. Not the bulb more commonly thought of ‘onion’ shaped root. But more finger shaped as an elongated corm that can be dug, relocated, shared that will still require that foliage to mature and provide the root with what it will need to continue to flourish from season to season.

.

in the middle school hallway …

… of a public school when making the rounds to check on YMCA meal delivery and service with the Nutrition Program that serves after-hours meals to youngsters in tutoring and sports practice programs. About two dozen locations to visit before the end of the month when the financial year ends: grant money resources come to an end for the allotted period, with a new twelve month cycle that will begin on the following day, October 1. Truly a logistical challenge with different days of the week (not all meet each Monday through Friday) Plus varying times of the day when the meal service occurs: some fed upon arrival at the after-school program, others in sports not until they are finished for the day.

On the walls of the middle school building are assorted inspirational quotes, as well as art produced by the students, mounted for students to see as they pass through the halls. Posters with positive affirmations meant to motivate students, instill positive character traits or sometimes just be mildly amusing. Some of the student art is really interesting: making it apparent that the art teacher has created challenges for her students, to make them think before they start working on a project.

As an art teacher, seeing this work produced by middle-school aged students who tend to not take school,instruction, classroom time seriously – this is pretty impressive.
It seems like the assignment would have been to reproduce an illustration the student found of a cartoon character.
Abstract designs, possibly drawing a mandala. Or having the design drawn on a section of the circle, then reproduced repeatedly?
Just inside the main entrance to the building. My guess is the teacher had a large image, that was divided up into small sections/segments. Each student was assigned a portion, using colors of choice, then the whole was reassembled on the wall, surprising all the students with the appearance of the finished product.

It has to be very gratifying for students to see their work displayed: even at this hyper-self-aware age. To have the teacher believe a students work is worth showing off to staff and student body would be so impressive, whether the individual is one filled with self-confidence and admired by others, or a youngster that desperately desires to not stand out from the crowd. Kudos to the teacher for taking the time to display the work and grant recognition to the individuals who are willing to devote time and effort to their assignments.

book review: “Good People”…

… requested from the holdings of the local library. Fiction, but with such a clear ring of truth, the reading was so mesmerizing it was hard to put down. The author, Patmeena Sabit, has roots in Afghanistan, where her family lived for generations, but is an American by birth: refugees who came to the US soon after the Russians invaded their country. Now living in Canada, she continues to write.

Every page seems to be written from a different point of view: each being almost a stand-alone chapter from a different voice. Each an individual with an opinion to add to the story of how a tragedy occurred within that community of immigrants from the mid-east who have strong imbedded moral standards traditions

The religious leaders, men with influence within their Muslim community have the ability to influence families: other prominent men, who then affect their home lives – wives, in-laws, extended family,children -that are forced upon families. Their history, the culture, the ideas embedded in their beliefs and religion for centuries allows for their society to be highly misogynistic: women are beasts of burden, servants, consumable commodities, disposable both as children to be used and for trade. The young females can be sold, bartered, sexually abused, traded for goods: food, livestock, married to older men without consent, and treated as virtual slaves by older members of that household.

This mentality has remained as the Muslims have immigrated and adapted in the US: still following many religious traditions. Including an apparent willingness to destroy young women who have grown up influenced society here: the premise of the book is that the teen who was found dead was killed by her family. Rather than suffer the humiliation of having her blatantly disobey the wishes of her family, she was sacrificed. How in the world does an ‘Honor Killing’ happen here in the US in 2006?

on willow st …

… just off McCallie Avenue, in a part of town that is densely residential, with a large Hispanic population. There is a large area that was likely out-reach, classrooms on a college campus. Tennessee Temple Univ. no longer that educational facility, but still standing, with dorm spaces unused, but other facilities gradually being absorbed by several charter schools that have moved into the blocks surrounding the original college.

Historically: founded in the Highland Park neighborhood, meant to be a training ground for Christian students, Dr Lee Robertson was considered a visionary. Reading about the early years of the founding where the congregation began on Wikipedia. the model provided here in Chattanooga is similar to how the campus in Virginia, at Liberty University grew. A congregation in Lynchburg VA, in a small, but motivated, started by Jerry Falwell, charismatic minister seen around the globe, preaching the conservative gospel to all the nations.

You miight not be able to read the first two words at the top: Jesus loves…

One of the early ‘mega-churches’, the charismatic Robertson, his devotees and financial backers intended for the Baptist Seminary to send students out into the world, prepared to preach, teach, convert. Started in 1946, the liberal arts college had over four thousand students at the height of enrollment. Beset with financial woes, shrinking student body, it became part of Piedmont International Univ. in Winston-Salem, North Carolina in 2015. Property here in Chattanooga, on the campus of Tennessee Temple was taken over by Redemption to the Nations, as well as locally operated charter schools that have absorbed classrooms and facilities for use as the neighborhood has evolved years.

book review: “The Silver Star”…

… by Jeannette Walls. Published in 2013, loaned from a friend, authored a writer enjoyed in the past. Written from the view point of a adolescent, a narrative thatc ould be challenging to find a way to voice. The story was well written, and consistent, making it an enjoyable read, as Jean and her sister Liz encounter many events young teens should not have to face without the care and support of adults

Jean, called ‘Bean’ throughout the narrative as a result of her sister not being able to pronounce her name properly when she was birthed, and Liz, live in California. Raised by a single mother, without a second parent, as both of their fathers deceased. ‘Unstable’ would be a kindness to refer to Charlotte. a struggling part-time actor, musician-songwriter , who leaves the two girls at home alone for days, while she is out chasing employment or men. Charlotte soon disappears, optimistic about a relationship with a (non-existent) man, leaving the two daughters enough funds to buy food for a month or more.

The sisters decide to take the money left for groceries, get on a commercial bus, travel cross country to a small town in Virginia, where they know Charlotte was born, raised, left as a young adult, desperate to get away from personal history, people who knew her and family all too well. In the town of Byerly, Charlotte’s name is everywhere, from the mill that kept so many households employed, to street signs. Going east where they hoped to find respite with Charlotte’s brother, Tinsley, who widowed, lives as a recluse in a decrepit, decaying mansion of the classic antebellum image.Caught by surprise, initially wary, Uncle Tinsley, caught by surprise, initially wary, requires the sisters to sleep in the barn the night of their arrival. Soon warming up, he welcomes the two to live in the room where their mother grew up.

Uncle Tinsley lives in a house full of accumulated clutter: generations of old clothing, furniture, papers, all of which seem to have value, as he declines help with cleaning, organizing: claiming all the piles, stacks are important and essential to his research. Vaguely planning to write and submit articles for publication about geology and family history, the nieces are told she was the one who kept things in order. Bean meets a cousin when she finds him in a tree, absconding with fruit in the orchard. Going with him to meet his parents she discovers details about her dad: not killed as she had been told all her life by her mother, a photo of him as a young man, military history, including a Silver Star award. Befriended by her aunt Al, and learning about the town, connections, Bean and Liz settle into small-town east coast life.

The sisters decide to look for employment, though they are under-age, hoping to find baby-sitting, yard work, some locals who will offer to pay pocket money. Inadvertently meeting man most of the town detests, they are hired. He is the manager of the local mill, once owned by the family, and largest employer in town. Jerry Maddox believes himself to be a wheeler-dealer, able to control the mill employees, his family, running the lives of many of the townspeople through threats of being fired from jobs, raising rent on their homes, humiliating anyone who attempts to defy him.

The story, well-developed, at a little under three-hundred pages, comes to a satisfactory conclusion, as their mother reappears, the sisters become settled in that small town that holds family history. Gradually accepted by the locals, the pair acclimate to the lifestyle, community, extended family that they have never had in the past. Grounded by the history of generations of relatives who live in the fictional small eastern Virginia town, the nomadic, uncertain lives of the sisters become stable, even with the flighty mother occasionally on the scene.

FYI: This was written, and the book read over summer as Cognitive skills starting to work again. In June, ceasing to function, almost to the point of comatose. Admitted to ER, ICU, gradually beginning to function. Books from a friend who knows my affinity for reading. But only able to manage a couple of pages before consumption of print would get overwhelming, just too much to retain. Slowly regaining skills to follow plot, retain characters and story line developed.

a ballerina …

It does take a little imagination: but if you think, you see that the meringue does sort of resemble the tutu worn by the dancer on the stage as she performs ‘The Dying Swan’.

…named Anna Pavlova who was born in Russia in 1881, and trained in the classical style. She started her own touring company in the early 1900’s traveling the world and dancing across the globe. Eventually becoming an English citizen, where she devoted the final years of her life to teaching and training others until her death in 1931.

Beloved across the continents where she traveled and performed, bringing the art of ballet to those who had never before experienced the drama and beauty of the dance. A chef in Australia created a dessert in her honor. Known worldwide as ‘pavola’, it is a baked meringue filled with fresh fruit. The egg-whites, finely granulated sugar and corn starch (to help stabilize the stiffly-beaten egg as it is formed into a bowl to contain the fruit}, are baked in a slow oven and left overnight to dry.

That interesting little hard shell, made of whipped egg whites, granulated sugar and a stabilizer is meringue. The berries are served in that sweetened dessert referred to as ‘pavlova’. The name originates from Australia or New Zealand, when the famous ballerina was touring in the early years of the twentieth century. Russian in origin, she formed her on company, toured across the globe from 1915 until her death of pneumonia complications in 1931. The last years of her life, she shared her skills and knowledge with others as an educator, teaching others who wished to learn the art of dance.

The dessert was identified with her by the chef who came up with the idea of the delicate sweetened meringue filled with fresh seasonal berries, claiming it honored her ‘popularity and the light billowy nature of the dessert’. You may notice, from seeing the carefully formed ring of egg whites, how it looks so similar to the ballerina’s extended skirt? Pavlova!