Who would have thunk?

We're taking it back!

2010-01-20T23:02:00.001-05:00

I have to be honest: I didn’t even know there was an election in Massachusetts until last night. But I didn’t need Sean Hannity to explain to me the significance of a Republican’s win of Ted Kennedy’s senate seat. Watching the celebrations, I remembered something Denny Crane, William Shatner’s Alzheimer’s character on “Boston Legal,” said when told that teachers wanting to teach intelligent design in the classroom were trying to sneak God in the back door: “God? This is a blue state—there’s no place for God here.” A Republican gain of a senate seat in any state would put the brakes on the threatened health care bill, but a conservative win in Massachusetts is doubly significant. I’m not deluded enough to think that the far-left liberals there have turned to God, but when a state that has legalized homosexual marriage elects a conservative to replace an extreme left liberal, something’s up.

Actually, I don’t want to go into that, because I really can’t say anything that hasn’t been said a zillion times in the last 24 hours. It just reminds me of something I kept hearing celebrities say in1992, when Clinton was elected: “we’re taking it back!” Now, I never was too sure what “it” was, but I got the feeling that it wasn’t just the government. Whoopi Goldberg and her ilk seemed to be suggesting that conservatives had hijacked the country and that liberals were going to take it back to where it had been—and that notion is incredible. They were going to take it “back” to the way our founding fathers intended? Seriously? Does anyone really think that those who came here to be able to worship God as they wanted would be thrilled to learn that liberals want to keep prayer and the Bible out of the schools? That they would cheer the legalization of gay marriage? That they would approve of abortion, let alone volunteer to pay for it by voting for a bill that would allow tax money to be used for abortions? I’ve almost always heard the term “revisionist history” used in reference to people who want to convince the world that the Jewish holocaust never happened, but it’s clear that people who think that the values of today’s political liberals are those of our founding fathers are as self-deluded as the most militant neo-Nazi.

But back to Scott Brown: yay! Now I’m really looking forward to November.

Black conservatives? How can it be?

2010-01-18T23:20:00.000-05:00

Last weekend Glenn Beck had a fantastic show. His entire audience was black; they were also politically conservative. After a year of being nudged every time I criticize Obama whenever there’s a black person in sight, I was thrilled to hear black people saying exactly what I’ve been saying, from the fact that you’re called a racist if you criticize Obama to the use of “African American” as a politically correct term.

Lisa Fritsch, a radio talk show host, took exception to the term “African American.” She said that she was born here in the U.S. , that her great-grandparents were born here, and that there’s nothing African about her; she’s an American. Glenn Beck always used the term “African American” during the show, and another lady said to him, “You don’t use that term when you talk to your wife, do you? It’s just a politically correct term.” When he asked, only about a third of the audience said they identified themselves as African American.

But everyone in the audience raised their hand when Beck asked if they had ever been accused of betraying their race because they’re politically conservative. One man said that you’re only black as long as you’re liberal; if you aren’t liberal, you stop being black. After one commercial break, Beck re-introduced the audience as a group of people who don’t exist. He went on to explain that the media don’t acknowledge the fact that there is a large number of black political conservatives.

One lady said that you can’t make a legitimate criticism of Obama without being called a racist. (I’d like to have heard what black people who criticize him are accused of. Traitors to their race, presumably.) Another lady said that 90% of all black people will be on food stamps at some point in their life but that the government won’t give them vouchers so that their children can go to better schools.

Something I heard over and over again on the show was that black people need to know their own history so that they won’t swallow the bill of goods that liberals offer. I was thrilled to hear that. Democrats may have at one time wanted to help black people, but anyone who thinks that giving people food stamps and public housing and making them feel entitled to handouts is certainly not doing them any favors. Gaining their favor and their vote, of course. We’ve all heard “Give a man a fish, and you’ve fed him for a day; teach a man to fish, and you’ve fed him for a lifetime.” So why is it so hard to understand that giving people things isn’t helping them?

Several years ago when I was in Scotland, the G8 conference was held in Edinburgh, much to my dismay, since it attracted “make poverty history” protesters and hindered my ability to get around. There was a concert held to benefit Africa. There was a political representative interviewed on BBC, and when the interviewer asked him if he felt appreciation for the concert, he said, to the consternation of the BBC interviewer, “Not really.” When asked why, he said, “Well, I’m sure we’re going to hear some great music, but the money isn’t going to help people in any of the African countries. We’ll have a few more 4- and 5-star hotels, but that’s all.” The interviewer asked, “But won’t it at least raise the profile, make people more aware?” and the man replied, “I thought everyone already knew Africa is poor.” He went on to say, “Just give us a fair shot at trade, and then let us take care of ourselves.” I was torn between cheering for the man and rolling in laughter at the flabbergasted interviewer.

I asked a black colleague about some of the comments made on Glenn Beck’s show, but he was a liberal, so I didn’t pose the question that I always want to ask whenever someone comments (as my colleague did, and as people on the show did) that blacks historically have high moral values. My question is this: if blacks have such high moral values, why are 70% of all babies born to black mothers illegitimate? That hasn’t always been the case. Do you suppose it might have something to do with the fact that the more babies you have, the bigger a handout you get from the government? If you don’t think that’s the reason, you certainly have to come up with some explanation for that statistic if you’re going to claim high moral values.

I wish black conservatives could find more venues for making themselves heard. No one can accuse them of being racist when they criticize Obama or welfare. But I guess they’ll have to get the media to acknowledge their existence before that can happen.

Trent Lott vs. Harry Reid

2010-01-10T19:59:00.001-05:00

Finally—I’m riled about something again! But I don’t know that there’s much of a point commenting on Trent Lott vs. Harry Reid. I, of course, think it’s horribly hypocritical to force Trent Lott to resign and then find nothing wrong with Harry Reid’s comments. When Obama was running for president, Reid said that he had a chance of winning because he was “light-skinned” and because he spoke “with no Negro dialect, unless he wanted to have one." Lott said, “I want to say this about my state: When Strom Thurmond ran for president, we voted for him. We're proud of it. And if the rest of the country had followed our lead, we wouldn't have had all these problems over all these years, either.” Thurmond was anti-civil rights at the time he ran—more than 50 years before Trent Lott made that statement in an event held to honor Thurmond. Lott (who was, incidentally, 7 years old when Thurmond ran for president) made a statement with no overt racism; our country has had so many problems during the last 50 years that it seems to me somewhat racist to assume that he was referring to racial problems. Reid’s statement, on the other hand, was overtly racist. Well, it would be in the mouth of a conservative. I, frankly, don’t consider either racist, but what’s good for the goose should be good for the gander. Unfortunately, liberals—not liberals only but liberals definitely—are so hypocritical that an apology for a remark that they would certainly consider racist if it were from the mouth of a conservative is good enough, while an apology for a remark that was not overtly racist wasn’t sufficient and required the speaker’s resignation.

Many things about liberals frighten me; this hypocrisy indicates a blindness, a deliberate refusal to see, that I can add to the list.

It’s My Body, and I’ll Eat If I Want To

2009-11-18T22:52:00.001-05:00

The woman shifted restlessly, reaching to loosen her seatbelt and cursing to herself when she remembered that it was as loose as it could get. Why did these airplanes always have such short seatbelts?

She glanced at her watch. At least another hour before they landed. She hated flying. Sitting in first class barely made it tolerable.

She picked up a magazine, but as she was browsing through the pages, she began to feel lightheaded. It had been three months since she’d been diagnosed with diabetes, and she was still learning how to manage it. She’d last eaten just before going to the gate, so . . . hmmm. She needed some carbs now. And some protein to keep her blood sugar from spiking and then plummeting. Smiling for the first time since she’d boarded the plane, she reached into her purse for a small package of Hershey’s Kisses and pressed a button to call a flight attendant.

“What can I do for you?” asked the young woman who appeared almost instantly.

“I’d like some peanuts”

“I’m sorry—we don’t give out peanuts any more. So many people are allergic these days.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, ma’am, but someone near you might be. And some people are so highly allergic that just the scent can cause a reaction.”

“Listen to me, young lady.” The woman sat up straighter “I have diabetes, and I need some protein. So you just bring me some peanuts this minute.”

“I can bring you some milk. Milk is a good source of protein.”

“I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Let me see if there are other options.”

“I am not feeling well, and I want peanuts right now!”

By now other people had noticed the exchange. “Wonder how she developed diabetes?” the man across the aisle muttered to his wife, rolling his eyes.

The woman, her face becoming flushed, ignored those around her. “My blood sugar is dropping even as we speak, and I need those peanuts!”

The flight attendant was wringing her hands. “Ma’am, if someone has an allergy, the scent of peanuts could cause a reaction, maybe even a strong reaction. People can even die from the allergy. Maybe—“

“I don’t care about someone else’s allergy! I care about my body. Don’t I have a right to control what’s going on with my own body?”

“Of course, ma’am. But what about the rights of someone who might be harmed? Maybe I can find a piece of chicken or—“

“I don’t like chicken. I want peanuts!”

“Excuse me, ladies. Is there a problem?”

The woman looked past the flight attendant to see a tall young man. “This girl won’t bring me any peanuts.”

“I apologize, ma’am. I’ll have some for you in just a moment.”

“But—“

The man quelled his junior flight attendant with a look. “Take a break”

The woman sighed, relaxing as she opened a Hershey’s kiss. It hadn’t even completely melted in her mouth before the man was back, carrying a silver tray that held a crystal dish, a wine glass, and a small bottle of champagne. “Please allow me, ma’am.” With a smile he set the crystal dish, full of peanuts, in front of her. “May I pour you a glass of champagne?”

“Yes, thank you.” The woman watched him pour as she reached into the dish. Peanuts were the perfect complement to chocolate.

The seat two rows up and across the aisle began to shake. People looked in that direction as they heard a gasping sound. A girl fell from that seat, clutching her throat. The junior flight attendant rushed to her side and tried to loosen her clothing. “Somebody see if she has an epi pen!” she yelled. A man went through her bag but found nothing. The girl was convulsing, her face turning blue.

The woman glanced out the window as she took another peanut. She was feeling much better now.

Northern Ireland from an American’s Point of View

2009-11-06T03:18:00.069-05:00

I’ve been thinking about this post since I first began this blog, which was right after my sister and I returned from Northern Ireland. Rita, my sister, had been hoping to get a job there. We knew about the Troubles there (although we didn’t know that’s what the situation was actually called) and about the IRA, and I was at first none too keen on going. But Northern Ireland has been at peace for almost four years now, and although I consider that too little time to actually be able to declare a permanent peace, I let her talk me into it.

Let me give a tiny bit of background in case you’re reading because you know me and not because you are digging for info on Northern Ireland, because if you’re doing that, you already know the following: Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom, along with England, Scotland, and Wales. When you hear plain old “Ireland,” you’re hearing about the southern and far western parts of the island (5/6ths of the island), which form the Republic of Ireland, which it is called to distinguish it from Northern Ireland. The history of partition, as the separation of the two parts of the island is called, is extensive, but it took place in 1921 and has been a source of conflict ever since, but never more than between the years of 1963 and 1998 (that year is debatable; I’d say 2005), the years referred to as “the Troubles,” when what we heard about most on this side of the Atlantic was the IRA bombings.

Go here for a brief but more complete than this explanation of the Troubles.

I went to Northern Ireland with a few misconceptions. I thought that the Troubles were all about Ireland (the Republic of Ireland) bombing Northern Ireland to try to get it back. That’s really not the case at all. It’s more like a civil war. The majority of the people of Northern Ireland are in favor of remaining part of the UK, but those who favor union with the Republic of Ireland are a large minority. I thought the conflict was essentially that—those who thought, for political/cultural/economic reasons, Northern Ireland should remain part of the UK vs. those who thought, for political/cultural/economic reasons, Northern Ireland should be part of the Republic of Ireland. I knew that Northern Ireland was primarily Protestant and the Republic of Ireland primarily Catholic, but even as someone who would, by the grace of God, die for her Christian beliefs, I never would have imagined that religion could play a major role in the politics of a country. I was stunned to learn how wrong I was.

Religion is more intertwined with politics and culture than any American could ever imagine. In spite of the fact that there are (according to rumor) a few Catholics who want to remain part of the UK and (also according to rumor) a few Protestants who want to be part of the Republic of Ireland, whenever you hear “Protestant,” you’d might as well be hearing “loyalist” (to the Crown of England) or “unionist,” and whenever you hear “Catholic,” it’s the same as hearing “Republican” or “nationalist.” The Northern Irish Protestant/Catholic conflict makes our black/white conflict look like five year olds fighting on the playground.

In Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland and a city of about 270,000 people, some areas are Catholic, and some are Protestant. The occupants pretty well know which is which, and they’ve made it easy for visitors (I’m being facetious—that wasn’t their goal) on two parallel roads: Falls (Catholic) and Shankill (Protestant). There are Irish flags all over Falls and British flags all over Shankill. Both have murals on a number of buildings. The Shankill murals include pledges of loyalty to Great Britain; the ones on Falls include martyrs of their nationalist movement, among others.

I have to admit that, as someone who attends a Baptist church and who has heard on many occasions the preaching of Ian Paisley, former (Protestant) First Minister of Northern Ireland, I went with a prejudice in favor of the Protestants. Falls Road did nothing to change my mind. Besides the murals to martyrs, there is a mural venerating ETA (the northern Spanish terrorist group), Hamas, and Che Guevarra. I actually felt nervous walking down Falls Road because of the homage to terrorist groups. In spite of the fact that there have been atrocities on both sides, there’s nothing on Shankill paying tribute to such groups.

Even when there are no flags or murals to give them away, people know which areas are Catholic and which are Protestant. On Shankill there is a newly opened center called the Centre for Northern Culture, and the owners were more than willing to talk to us about Northern Ireland’s recent history. We talked to a 24 year old girl (Sam) and her mom, who witnessed a bombing in the 60s. Sam told us that, after years outside of Northern Ireland, she’d felt safe there during the year she’d been back. They told us about families who were divided by the Protestant/Catholic conflict—true modern-day Romeo and Juliet stories. We asked them a question about the Asda (Wal-Mart) we planned to go to, and they knew nothing about that particular Asda (apparently there are others in Belfast). When we told them where it was, they said they’d never been there because it was in the Catholic part of town. It wasn’t a matter of shunning Catholics; the culture has developed so that Protestants normally go to restaurants, shops, etc., in the Protestant areas and Catholics in the Catholic areas.

When we finished shopping at Asda later, we decided to take a taxi back to our B&B. While we were chatting with the driver, he asked us about our travels there. We told him that, after Belfast, we were going to go to Londonderry. He looked at me in the mirror and said, “Derry.” He was correcting me. Protestants call the city “Londonderry,” and Catholics call it “Derry.” The Asda, as we’d been told, was in a Catholic part of town, so the drivers waiting outside the store were Catholic.

People would occasionally tell us, as they were answering our questions about the Troubles, that the media frequently blew the situation out of proportion. But I suspect that a true story our guide in Derry/Londonderry (that’s one of the politically correct ways of writing the city’s name) told us goes a long way toward explaining how anyone who gives you firsthand accounts of bombings can think the media blows them out of proportion. First of all, you have to know that Derry/Londonderry was founded on a hill. The walls around the city still survive. That’s where you find all the government buildings. Below the city is an area called the Bogside, which is almost exclusively Catholic.

According to our guide, one day a woman in the Bogside ran out of her house when she heard an explosion. “Jimmy, what was that?” she called out to a passerby. “Oh, Maggie, that was just another bomb going off up in the city” was the response. “Thank goodness,” Maggie said. “I thought it was thunder.” He told us this story to show us how much a part of life bombings had become, and I think that people who believe stories about the atrocities in Northern Ireland were blown out of proportion have just grown accustomed to them.

The Northern Irish don’t forget anything. I’d wager there are proportionately more of them who can tell you the year of partition than there are Americans who can tell you the year of American independence. They still talk about plantation as the real beginning of Northern Irish troubles. That happened in 1621, when the British, in order to maintain control of Ireland, planted English and Scottish settlers in Northern Ireland. The loyalists are descended from those people. One young lady told us that she was British, not Irish. That surprised me, because I would have thought that anyone who resides on the island would call himself Irish. Most of the “British” in Northern Ireland haven’t had ancestors from Great Britain in centuries, although, until partition in 1921, all of Ireland belonged to Great Britain, and perhaps that fact, along with their political/cultural/religious identification with Great Britain, accounts for that sentiment.

As I mentioned earlier, I went to Northern Ireland with a prejudice, but it was hard to maintain that prejudice when I was in Derry/Londonderry. I learned a lot from our guide and also from a museum called the Free Derry Museum. Yes, there was an entrance fee. Free Derry, composed of the Bogside and another Catholic neighborhood, was a self-declared autonomous nationalist area in 1969-1972. The museum contains news clippings, pictures, and recordings from that era. It actually starts around the time of plantation (when the new settlers renamed the town, previously called Derry, Londonderry). Ever since that time, Protestants have pretty well tried to keep Catholics under their thumb. Even the most ardent Protestant can’t deny the unfairness, particularly in Derry/Londonderry. District borders were deliberately drawn to be sure that the majority of government representatives were Protestants so that, until lines were redrawn in 1973, the majority of government officials were Protestant in spite of the fact that the majority of Derry/Londonderry citizens were Catholic. In that city, particularly, the conflict wasn’t as much about loyalty to Great Britain vs. nationalism as it was about fair treatment in the government and in regards to housing, jobs, etc. I constantly worked on keeping a distance, an objective eye, because none of the Northern Irish are objective, to say the least. But I found myself sympathizing more with the historically oppressed Catholics and realizing that Dr. Paisley, whom I admire as a man of God, should have endeavored to keep his politics separate from his religion. If it were a question, as it is here, of abortion or not, homosexuality or not, a free ride if you’re lazy or not, etc., I could understand, because the Bible defines my beliefs. But those aren’t the issues at all, since Protestants and Catholics as a whole share the same view of most of those so-called social issues. From my point of view, there is no philosophical or religious reason to fear having Catholics in power. I’ve never lived in Northern Ireland, and there are aspects of life there that you can only understand if you’ve spent your life there, but I’d like to sit down with someone like Dr. Paisley and have him explain to me why having a Catholic First Minister would be such a bad thing.

In fact, Northern Ireland now has a First Minister and a deputy First Minister, one of whom is Protestant and the other Catholic, who share power equally. I really don’t get how two men can share control of a government equally, but from what I was told, it’s working. Even during the year Dr. Paisley was First Minister, he apparently got along with the Catholic deputy First Minister. I wonder if he ever regrets any of his previous actions that served to continue Catholic oppression.

Rita and I are going back this summer and are going to rent a car and spend 2 ½ weeks in Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. The only place I’ve been in the latter was Dublin, and I didn’t particularly like it, but I decided that since I liked Northern Ireland so much, I need to give the Republic of Ireland another chance. I just hope that I find people in the towns of the Republic of Ireland as friendly and willing to talk as I did those of the cities and towns of Northern Ireland.

Kate Walsh, American President

2009-10-13T00:46:00.022-04:00

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the newly inaugurated president of the United States: Kathleen Erin Walsh!”

Kate entered the room surrounded by her entourage of Secret Service women. (All the men had proved to be too distracted to do their job.) All the women exclaimed over her beauty; the men were disappointed by the modesty of her floor-length green dress, but then their eyes moved up (slowly) to focus on her exquisite face.

“I’m happy to report that Iran has agreed unconditionally to destroy all nuclear facilities,” Kate announced, accepting a glass of Evian.

“How did you manage that, Madame President?” Helen Thomas, craning her neck to see the president, asked.

Kate shrugged. “Ahmadinejad isn’t what I expected. He stuttered a lot—but maybe that’s just how Farsi sounds. He was very agreeable. In fact, everything would have been solved much sooner, but he and Hugo Chavez started gasping and then fighting every time I turned my back, so I always had to turn back around to calm them down. Our oil problems are now over too, by the way. Pretty cool, huh?” When she turned to address another reporter, the gleam from her silky bare back was almost enough to reflect Helen Thomas’s hawk nose.

“What about health care?” David Gregory asked.

“I convinced Michael Moore and George Soros to put their money where their mouths are and fund it. Bill Gates has education covered, but he has a few stipulations, like being sure that students are going to college because they want to, not because it’s the thing to do. Some people are just better off spending those years in their parents’ garage building something or in Japan teaching English and modeling, you know?”

“Is there going to be a First Gentleman?” Ann Compton wanted to know.

“That’s what they’re deciding right now.” Kate nodded toward a large group of women surrounding a very good-looking, very desperate-looking man.

“Of course you love her,” Liz was saying to the poor man. “Who wouldn’t? But that’s not good enough.”

Ann Compton turned back to Kate. “You have someone screening the, uh, applicants for the position?”

Kate shrugged. “They say they worry about me and have to make sure he’s worthy.” She giggled a bit. “Doesn’t he look cute when he’s cornered?”

“Yo tengo una pregunta para ti,” Valerie told Neil. “What is your idea of a romantic evening?”

“Ummm . . . candlelight, roses, soft music and lighting . . . dancing close . . .”

“Ahhhhh,” sighed all the 20-somethings in the group.

“Hold it,” more-than-20-something Karen interjected. “Kate gets up at 5:00 a.m., has a breakfast meeting with her chief of staff, then meets with her cabinet, takes Air Force One to New York to meet with several heads of state at the UN building, has a protein shake for lunch between phone calls with members of Congress, greets a group of kindergartners who are at the White House on a field trip, works with her speech writers on a response to an attack on our facilities somewhere in the Middle East—which she has to deliver at 7:00 on national television—has five reports to read and respond to, and finally gets to the living quarters at 9:00. What’s your idea of romance then?”

Sweat was pouring down Neil’s face. “Uhhh . . . I greet her at the door with roses and . . . and . . . have dinner ready—with candlelight—and . . . and kiss her and tell her I love her.” Neil looked pleased with himself.

“You have to be kidding.”

His face fell. But then, inspired, he added, “Chocolate cheesecake for dessert.”

“No! You offer to run her a bath or give her a massage or make her something she can eat in front of the TV.” Karen offered a small, encouraging smile. “The chocolate cheesecake is a good idea, though.”

“So maybe she’ll want to eat it in bed, and then—“

“No! No ‘and then.’ It's possible that there may be no ‘and thens’ until a weekend at Camp David.”

“Only on the weekend???” He gulped. A glance at the incredible woman across the room restored his determination. “OK. She’s worth it.”

“Let’s talk about when you’re tired or have had a bad day,” Rachael said. “What do you expect of her then?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear! I-I’ll just be quiet and-and hide behind a newspaper.”

“Wrong!” Rachael and all the other women shook their heads. “You have the sweetest, most generous, most loving woman in the world, and you don’t want to let her soothe you? You—“

“’And then’?” he asked hopefully.

“Porco!” Marina exclaimed, shaking her head, as did many others.

“You lie down with your head in her lap,” suggested Francesca.

“And let her play with your hair,” added Tanja.

“You do have really great hair,” Ring said. Everyone nodded in agreement, and Neil relaxed a bit.

“Now tell us what you’re going to buy her for Christmas,” Heather said.

Kate, seeing the look of terror on her boyfriend’s face, glided over to join the group. “Hi, babe—how’s it going?” she asked, sitting down beside him.

He fell over, his head landing in her lap. Kate began playing with the thick dark locks. “How’s he doing, girls?” she asked her fans.

“He’s afraid of us,” Jen told her, “so that’s a good sign.”

Kate smiled down into the chocolate eyes. “They just want to make sure you’ll be good to me.” Caressing his cheek, she said, “After all this is over, we’ll go to the living quarters—“

“And then?” The words were no sooner out of his mouth than, trembling, he grabbed her around the waist, burying his face in her stomach.

Kate frowned down at him and then at the girls. “What’s wrong with him?”

Everyone shrugged.

Kate was exhausted when everyone had finally left, but she was eager for what awaited her in her living quarters. She brushed out her hair and changed into something pretty. Opening her bedroom door, she smiled and went to sit in the midst of her girlfriends. “Who has the remote?” she asked. “I don’t want to miss a second of ‘Mad Men.’”

Applauding AGAINST America? Seriously?

2009-10-11T19:38:00.000-04:00

A few days ago I wrote about the idea of conservatives cheering Chicago's lost bid for the Olympics. Today I saw a segment of "The O'Reilley Factor" that showed a clip from a meeting of a group called Americans for Prosperity where people broke into applause at the announcement of Chicago's loss. I was horrified. It was all too reminiscent of an experience I had in January 2005.

I represent my college on a committee called the System Council on International Education, a committee comprised of representatives of the 35 public colleges/universities in Georgia. In January 2005 we had a workshop/meeting/dinner that happened to fall on inauguration day. University professors are notoriously liberal, with liberal outnumbering conservatives eight to one and, in the area of humanities (which includes foreign language, my area), 32 to one. I wasn't surprised that my colleagues on the committee were less than thrilled with Bush's second victory. But I was taken aback when, after the chairman remarked with something less than enthusiasm that this was inauguration day, a number of the members of the committee booed. These middle-aged Ph.D.s in professional business attire actually booed the inauguration of the president of the United States.

That moment wounded my spirit profoundly. I love my country, and I respect the office of president, regardless of who holds it. I understood that they hated Bush, just like the members of Americans for Prosperity probably despise Obama. But just as Americans who love their country (although I suspect not all of my colleagues fall into that category) have no business booing the inauguration of the president of the United States, Americans who love their country have no business cheering the loss of an event that would bring prosperity, ironically enough, and prestige to the United States.

The eight years of Bush's presidency opened my eyes and taught me something important: how not to behave. Besides seeing my colleagues showing disrespect for the office of president, I saw liberals show a blatant lack of respect for that office time after time after time while claiming to have a love for their country. I hope those people remember how they acted when Bush was in office when they see offensive outbursts like those at the Americans for Prosperity meeting, but conservatives certainly shouldn't let the previous disrespect of liberals be an excuse to act in a way that demonstrates a lack of love for America. I'm thankful that my colleagues' behavior and that of other liberals during those eight years opened my eyes and taught me what not to do and how not to behave.

Cheers for lost Olympic bid?

2009-10-05T21:37:00.005-04:00

I read that a lot of conservatives cheered when Chicago lost the bid for the 2016 Olympics. Regarding the loss, Rush Limbaugh stated, "I don't deny it. I'm happy." Glenn Beck called the news of the loss "so sweet." I'm far more conservative than either of these two men have ever thought of being, but how can any American rejoice that one of our cities lost the bid for the Olympics? That's an act that's worthy of Michael Moore.

I'm not happy Chicago lost the bid. And I think it was great that Obama went to make a pitch for it. But I do rejoice that the man who is bent on turning us into a nanny state (more than we already are) and who was welcomed as a virtual messiah was unable to persuade the International Olympic Committee to give Chicago the Olympics--or even make it one of the top two competitors.

In Barcelona in 2008, everyone wanted to talk about Obama. Usually I was asked if I was for Hillary or Obama. Western Europe is so liberal that they didn't even seem to be aware of the fact that the election itself was not going to be between the two liberals. And they all loved Obama. They were thrilled we were finally getting rid of Bush and putting in (they hoped) a man after their own heart.

And here it was even worse. I don't think I have to remind anyone, especially since it was less than a year ago, that there were people who were convinced they were going to go from being lazy poor to being lazy rich. They thought Obama was going to take from all those greedy entrepreneurs who'd risked everything to build up their businesses and give to them so that they could get bigger TVs and cars. I actually felt a little sorry for Obama, because he could be the greatest man in the world and still not be able to do what a lot of people were expecting him to do. But while he didn't promise to do everything that people claimed he was going to do, he certainly didn't encourage them to do a reality check.

For a while now we've seen Obama being pulled back and forth by the radicals with whom he has surrounded himself, and we see he is not the strong man of character that I really thought he might be, in spite of the fact that I disagree with his beliefs and stands. The loss of the Olympic bid is evidence on the international front that the world is not enamored of him as they were before the election. And as disappointed as I am to see some other country get the Olympics, I'm glad that the entire world has realized he's just a man. I'm glad that the U.S. sees now that the world is not going to embrace us even when we elect a far-left man with a Middle Eastern heritage as our president. I remember what Sharon Stone said when making "Catwoman": "Halle's so beautiful and I wanted to kiss her. I said, 'How can you have us in the movie and not have us kiss? . . . That's what you get for having George Bush as president." Even the liberal media admitted how ludicrous that statement was. Our president does not define who we are. On inauguration day in January of this year, movie scenes that were previously taboo did not get the thumbs-up. Countries that despised us before that date did not begin to love us. At most, they started watching to see if we would become more like them with this new president who seemed to be their kindred spirit. Thank goodness we haven't.

You may be a racist if . . .

2009-09-26T17:35:00.011-04:00

I am sick to death of hearing any criticism of Barack Obama being attributed to racism. Jimmy Carter attributed Joe Wilson's exclamation of "You lie!" (during Obama's speech to a joint session of Congresss) to racism. That inappropriate outburst couldn't possibly have been a reaction to Obama's words, could it? After all, if Hillary Clinton had been the one who'd said it, Wilson certainly wouldn't have called out, right? Oh, wait--that would have made him a sexist, which he probably is, since he's a racist. So we have to think about Bill Clinton. If Bill Clinton had been saying the exact same words Obama was, Wilson wouldn't have yelled out. It's only black and possibly female presidents at whom such outbursts would be directed. White male presidents never endure such attacks. Just ask George Bush.

I'm very conservative and have never voted for a Democrat for president. But all of a sudden, I didn't vote for Obama because he's black. I never saw pictures of Clinton or Bush for sale in a department store, but now, when I see pictures of Obama and express my disbelief while rolling my eyes, my friends shush me and motion toward a nearby black person. Good grief. It's not like I'm saying, "Can you believe they have pictures of a black man on sale?" Hey, ten years ago they could have had tons of pictures of Barack Obama on sale, and I wouldn't have paid a bit of attention. Well, other than to wonder who this person was whose picture was apparently worth buying.

Why wasn't Kanye West accused of racism? He jumped up on stage, took the microphone from a white girl, and then praised a black girl. Why wasn't that racist? Instead of calling him a racist, people rightly called him a moron. (Well, that's not the word most people use, but I don't use words like "jackass.") So why is Joe Wilson a racist instead of a ~~jac~~ moron? Considering West stole the moment from a white girl in order to elevate a black girl, I'd say that comes a whole lot closer to racism than does the criticism of a black president from a member of the opposing party. But from what I've read, no one has called West a racist.

The hypocrisy of this whole racism thing kills me. I remember during the election, on "The View," Elisabeth Hasslebeck asked why race should matter, why it shouldn't be just the person's views, record, experience, etc. Whoopi Goldberg told her that that was a white person's point of view, that Elisabeth, as a white woman, couldn't understand what it felt like for her, as a black woman, to be able to have a black president. That would have been fine and dandy if it weren't for my suspicion that Whoopi wouldn't have been singing that tune if Alan Keyes had become president. A black president proclaiming that sex outside of marriage is wrong, that homosexuality is wrong, that abortion is wrong--somehow, I don't see people like Whoopi Goldberg jumping for joy because Alan Keyes, a black man, had become president.

There's a large percentage of black students that attend the college in Georgia where I teach. A couple of them I had several years ago got bent out of shape because I said something about Black English. I informed them that I hadn't coined the term, that it referred to a particular dialect of English, and I essentially used my linguistic terminology to diffuse the situation. But lately, I've had a number of black students who've been raised to believe that no one is treating them a particular way because of the color of their skin. These kids don't have a chip on their shoulder, and we can carry on conversations about race and dialects and black vs. white hair and anything else. I walked in on an argument once in which some of the white males were saying that white people don't riot. That was an absurd statement, of course, but the three black girls were reasoning with them (no mean feat) rather than taking their ludicrous remarks as a personal affront. In my linguistics class this semester, one girl said that when she moved from Texas to Washington as a child, she got stomachaches when she went to school because all the kids made fun of her accent, and it upset her tremendously. I moved from Georgia to Wisconsin as an adult with an M.A. in Hispanic linguistics, and when people would say things like "It's 'pen,' not 'pin'" (in the South, those words are pronounced the same way), I would respond, "Lower mid front vowels don't precede nasals in the southern dialect." That always shut them up, of course, since no one had a clue what I'd said. But the point is that I was intelligent and educated, and I had no reason to feel inferior to anyone. Many of my black students are experiencing that now. They're intelligent, they're educated, and they don't have any reason to feel inferior to anyone. Because they don't feel inferior, they don't make assumptions that someone has treated them a particular way because of the color of their skin. And isn't that better for them and their attitude and self image even if there are some ~~jac~~ morons who do treat them a certain way because of the color of their skin?

Language: The Fat in the Melting Pot

2009-09-20T21:37:00.005-04:00

As a college professor, I present papers at conferences at least twice a year. A couple of years ago I actually got to write something fun: an essay on the need for immigrants to learn English, a topic near and dear to the heart of Spanish professors, as you can imagine, although we certainly don't all agree. At any rate, here's what I think:

Years ago, when carbohydrates were in and fat was out, there was a butter substitute that was virtually fat free. I remember seeing my mother drop a glob into a pan of boiling liquid. Nothing happened. It didn’t melt. She put some directly onto a hot griddle. Same results—nothing. I remember thinking that even plastic melts. What was this thing that was supposed to be food? Obviously, butter without fat was not going to melt.

The U.S. has been called a melting pot. We are very much a heterogeneous group of people. But think about what a melting pot is. If you mix butter, chocolate chips, peanut butter, and vanilla together in a hot pot, you see them swirled together. You don’t have chunks of chocolate in one corner of a hot pot and a lump of butter in another. Even before they’re mixed, they swirl together so that, while you recognize the individual elements, you really couldn’t separate them.

In theory, that’s what the U.S. is like. But if we are unable to communicate with each other, how can we melt together, so to speak? Illegal immigration is a huge issue in this country. But even legal immigration has its problems. I’ve known many Hispanic people who have spent years here and are unable to speak English. So we accommodate them by printing Spanish along with English on signs, TV ads, etc., and having a Spanish option when we call the cable company, phone company, etc. On one side people argue that we need to make these services accessible to the millions of Hispanics who are here, whether legally or not, and on the other side are people who grumble that if they’re going to come here, they need to learn the language. But in my opinion, neither of these groups has the good of immigrants or the good of the country in mind. If you have a toddler who isn’t where he should be in learning to talk, and that child points to something he wants and grunts, are you doing him a favor if you give it to him? If you really want what’s best for the child, won’t you insist that he say the word in order to get the object? And if you give it to him when he merely points and grunts, will he learn to say the word? Why should he bother?

Many Hispanics will never bother to learn English if they are able to survive without it. And we need them to learn it as much for our sakes as theirs. The U.S. is unique in the world—or at least in the West. Europeans seem to have no concept of the word “patriotism.” My European friends don’t know what it means to love one’s country. Many people call the U.S. a polarized country, especially during elections, and while that is probably true, September 11 showed us that we are also a united country. Years ago I went to the laser light show at Stone Mountain, Georgia, and I remember one part where lights made Jefferson Davis, Stonewall Jackson, and Robert E. Lee move on their horses across the face of the mountain to the tune of “Dixie,” I believe. People applauded and cheered. Later in the show, the lights showed the two halves of the country, the North and the South, coming back together to form a whole, to the tune of “God Bless the U.S.A.,” and the applause and cheers were deafening. While we might be proud of our particular state or particular area of the country, we are by far much more proud of our country, of being Americans, of being part of the whole. But a country whose citizens cannot communicate with each other cannot remain united.

Spain is a good example of a regionalistic country. People don’t describe themselves as Spanish. Instead, they are Catalonian, Basque, Andalusian, etc. Every summer I spend a month in Barcelona, which is in the province of Catalonia. During the 38 years of his dictatorship, Franco suppressed the Catalan language. It could not be used in the schools or in any public or official way. When Franco died, the Catalan people pushed the language forward. Now Catalan is the only language in the schools, and all the signs and even the restaurant menus are in Catalan—and there is no Spanish to accompany the Catalan. There are approximately 6,000,000 speakers of Catalan worldwide, and 4,000,000 of those are in Spain; virtually all of those speak at least one other language fluently, quite often as fluently as Catalan. There are approximately 39,500,000 speakers of Spanish in Spain—ten times as many as there are speakers of Catalan. But in Barcelona, a very metropolitan city, with immigrants from Spain and all over the world, you have to be able to speak Catalan to get a government job, and there are a lot of other jobs where fluency in Catalan is a requirement. Their language is a point of pride with the Catalonians—and a point of separation from the rest of the country. Many want independence from Spain. These people recognize what most Americans do not: language unites you as a people and sets you apart from those who don’t speak it.

I live in Georgia, and Savannah has the largest St. Patrick’s Day celebration in the country. St. Patrick’s Day—an Irish holiday, right? Why do we celebrate an Irish holiday? I did some research and found that Boston and New York have had St. Patrick’s Day celebrations since the 1700s, and while there’s no indication of why, logic dictates that they were begun by Irish immigrants, who were outnumbered only by English immigrants in colonial times. The Irish potato famine brought us even more immigrants. And they shared their traditions with their new compatriots. Now there are St. Patrick’s Day celebrations all over the country, and we all know about shamrocks and leprechauns and the gold at the end of the rainbow. That has become part of our American culture. Remember the “you got chocolate in my peanut butter/you got peanut butter on my chocolate” Reese’s Cup commercials? They blended together for a unique taste. That’s what happens with a melting pot: everything is blended together. Immigrants don’t abandon their culture; rather, they share it, and we all benefit.

When we enable people to immigrate here without learning the language, we deprive ourselves as well as them. They shouldn’t abandon their culture; they should bring it with them and share it, thereby enriching their new country. And how can they do it if they can’t speak the language spoken by the inhabitants of that country? If they’re going to come here, they need to become a part of the country, to melt in with the rest, so to speak, to add to our culture.

These days, wanting to have voting ballots and food labels and everything else in Spanish is considered open-minded and inviting. But I think that the reverse is true. The Oakland school board recently had to abandon plans to teach so-called Ebonics, a dialect of English spoken by black people, as a second language. People were outraged, because while the program would ostensibly recognize Ebonics as a dialect on par with standard English, in effect it would keep black students from learning the dialect that, like it or not, is the dialect of educated, financially successful America. Maya Angelou stated that recognizing the dialect as a separate language would discourage young black Americans from learning standard English. In short, teaching Ebonics would hold black students back, keep them from getting the best jobs. And we’re just talking about a dialect. If students who were born here need to learn standard English in order to succeed in our country, what does that say about those who speak no dialect of English?

As a Spanish teacher, I’m the first to say that we need foreign languages from elementary school on. We have a few bilingual schools in this country where students study half the day in English and half the day in another language, and most parents in those areas want their children in those schools. Studies have shown that children who learn a second language develop their brain in ways that benefit them beyond the ability to speak a second language. There is absolutely no doubt that we need to become less ethnocentric and learn other languages. But that does not change the fact that English is the native language of virtually all our citizens and that anyone who lives here needs to be able to speak English.

Remember the glob of butter substitute that wouldn’t melt? It needed fat. If we want to continue to be a united and not regionalistic country, if we want to enjoy the richness of the cultures that immigrants bring us, if we want all our citizens to have the opportunity to prosper, then we need fat in our melting pot. We all need to speak the same language.

Paxil Withdrawal

2009-09-16T23:26:00.006-04:00

OK, as I'm feeling stalked by cramps, I have to share my Paxil withdrawal experience.

I read up on Paxil, which I've been taking for three years, and I knew that I needed to wean myself, not quit cold turkey. I originally started taking it because stress, caffeine, and sleeplessness had combined to give me anxiety attacks. I was headed for Barcelona and couldn't afford to deal with these attacks, which were sometimes paralyzing.

After nearly four weeks, the Paxil worked like a charm. Unfortunately, there was a side effect that became progressively worse: I went from being a very cold-natured person to being a very hot-natured person. Instead of shivering and putting on a sweater when everyone else was asking to have the air conditioning turned on, I was fanning myself when everyone else was putting on a jacket. I hate being hot all the time. A nursing student told me that Welbutrin wouldn't cause me to be hot and that, additionally, there was a chance it could help me lose weight.

So five weeks ago I began taking Welbutrin and weaning myself off Paxil. I took 4 1/2 weeks to do so, but apparently, that wasn't enough. Or maybe there's no way to avoid side effects. I'm having a variety of symptoms, one of them apparently due to starting Welbutrin and the others due to withdrawal from Paxil.

I was at Wal-Mart the Saturday before last and started feeling lightheaded. I thought my blood sugar might be low, so I ate something. That helped only a little. It occurred to me my blood pressure might be high, although it's never been more than 120/80 my entire life and tends to hover around 110/72. I took it in the pharmacy area and found that it was 149/87. I went to the hospital, but no one would tell me if that was dangerously high without admitting me to the emergency room. I called an M.D. friend and found out that it wasn't. So I went home and started doing my research.

Paxil withdrawal doesn't cause high blood pressure, but Welbutrin does. So I stopped taking Welbutrin, which I'd been on for a month. Paxil can cause a whole host of symptoms, including lightheadedness and flu-like symptoms. Something else that was strange was that I developed a crick in my neck while coming my hair, and the next week I developed one in the other side of my neck while I was lying down watching TV. Lo and behold--one of the symptoms of Paxil withdrawal is muscle cramps. I never would have believed it if I hadn't had a crick in each side of my neck and a catch/cramp in my back all in the space of ten days. Even now I have to be careful, because I can feel one wanting to develop in my left calf, and when I turn my head, I can feel the one on the right side of my neck returning.

I've sworn off caffeine, which I never drank daily, because I found that it made the lightheadedness worse. And if I ever have anxiety attacks again, I won't go on Paxil or Welbutrin. Welbutrin, I discovered, can cause liver damage, and it doesn't work the way all the other anti-anxiety medications do and is apparently less innocuous. Paxil is apparently the worse SSRI (which seems to be the most common type of anti-anxiety medication) of all. It takes longer to get out of the system and seems to have more side effects when you withdraw. Also, of all the anti-anxiety/depression medications on the markets, Paxil seems to be the worst for causing weight gain. I'd started rapidly putting on weight four years before I started taking Paxil, and I've continued, so I can't blame that on Paxil, but no one who has a problem with weight gain needs to be taking something that can make matters even worse.

The anxiety attacks were so bad that the Paxil was worth it, but now that I've done my research, if it ever happens again, I'll definitely take something else. Be smarter than I was, and when your doctor prescribes something for you, do the research and find out if there's something that might be better for you.

Study Abroad in Barcelona!

2009-09-16T14:34:00.033-04:00

Barcelona, of course, has to be my first posting. I just hope I can figure out how to upload pictures to go with it!

I took my first group of Gordon College students to Barcelona in 2001. I'd started the program from scratch, and there was no one at my college to give me advice, although my colleagues at other Georgia colleges/universities helped me a great deal. But I bit off more than I could chew. I had 23 students, and I planned three MAJOR weekend trips for our four weeks there: Seville and Granada, Madrid, and Venice. All by bus, and if you've been to Europe, you realize that the American belief that Europe is relatively small is, in fact, relative. It took 15 hours to get to Seville and 17 to get to Venice. No bathroom on the bus, either.

When I returned, people would ask, "Was it fun?" I'd say, "No." In surprise, they'd ask, "Didn't you have a good time?" I'd say, "No." I told a colleague about these verbal exchanges, and her response was "But it was rewarding." Finally I could say, "Yes." Taking students to Barcelona is very rewarding, and now that the novelty of the city itself has worn off for me, the students are what keep me going. It's exciting to see them grow, to see them learn to communicate in Spanish and become independent as they learn to navigate their way around the city. Because they're so excited, they tend to be a lot more appreciative than the students who sit in my classroom 2 1/2 hours a week and conjugate verbs. Learning Spanish in Barcelona is quite different from learning it in a U.S. classroom. Students do go to class four hours a day, five days a week, but they don't get grammar crammed down their throats. They get a little grammar and practical vocabulary (like "beach towel"--Barcelona is on the Mediterranean; I remember one of my elementary Spanish textbooks having the word for "wrecking crane"), and then they have games and activities to help them internalize what they've learned and actually use it rather than just taking a test on it. Even students who have had no Spanish at all learn to communicate. They can't rattle it off like a native, but they can have conversations with the families they live with. And living with a Spanish family is an experience that most of my students thoroughly enjoy.

Now, let me share something with any parents who may have stumbled upon this blog in a search for info about sending their child abroad. First of all, I don't take students who are under 18. The U.S. is just too litigious for me to take that kind of risk. I've taken nearly 200 students during the past nine years, and I've returned with the same number. I've taken three students to the hospital (not that they were THAT sick, but there's no one doctor I could call up), one who had caught a bug, another who arrived with, uh, female problems, and another who had had a flare-up of tonsillitis just before departure. I've been fortunate, because accidents do happen. But they happen at home too.

I am very hands on, and I run a serious program. On my website between animated colored bullets are the words "WARNING! This is not a party program." I go on to tell students that while they are allowed to come and go as they please, they are required to be in class and alert every weekday morning at 9:30. My program application includes a long list of rules, not the least of which is that disturbing the host family because of intoxication will result in the expulsion of the student from the program. I warn students that their inhibitions will go down because they are 4000 miles from home and their parents and that they will tend to do in excess what they may do in moderation at home. I am at school most days, and when I am not, my assistant usually is. We know when students skip classes. If they stay out all night without warning their host family that they are going to do so, the host family calls the school, and the school calls me. In short, I do everything possible to make my presence felt and to let students know that I'm available if they need me and that I'm watching them.

However, I don't follow them around after school. If they choose to take off and not see me again until 9:30 the next day (or on Monday morning), that's their right. I can't keep them from drinking excessively. I can't keep them from picking up someone in a club. You can. If you haven't raised your child to make good, responsible decisions, don't expect me to be able to keep him from doing something stupid in Europe. I've had really good kids who don't yield to temptation, I've had good kids who do things they wouldn't do here but who don't go far enough to get into trouble, and I've had kids who are determined to do all the things there that they wish they could get away with doing here. My students look out for each other. Last year the guys decided that one of our girls was too cute and naive to be allowed on the metro alone, so they did their best to make sure she never was, although that didn't always work out. But you can't force anyone to do anything. Three guys who were friends before the trip had partying high on their agenda, but two realized that I meant business. During the week, when they had to get up early, those two would try to convince their friend that they needed to get home to get some sleep, but he would refuse to leave the club. So, unwilling to sacrifice their grade, they left him. He didn't get into any trouble, unless you call paying $3950 and getting an F trouble, but he easily could have. If you were this student's parent, what would you have done? Been upset with his friends for leaving him? Sued me if he'd gotten mugged on his drunken way home?
So, parents, the long and short of it is that, after you've checked out the program and made sure that there is a responsible adult who is on hand and not just on call, you need to be sure you've raised someone who is responsible and who won't do anything that could result in his getting hurt. If you haven't, then don't expect a study abroad director to do what you've failed to do.

OK, OK--off the soap box! (I have a lot of them, by the way.) I'm very excited about the program for this coming summer. I have two lovely young ladies who have just finished high school and started college and who want to become fluent in Spanish. One wants to teach, and the other wants to be a flight attendant. Another student came to my office asking for info and said that he can't wait and is going to get the money one way or another. I'd never met him before. One student began by saying she doesn't have the money, then asked about fundraising, and finally told me she's going even if she has to take out a loan. Study abroad is an incredible experience, and I wish all my serious students could go before they get bogged down with the responsibilities of adulthood. It changes their perspective and makes a real difference in their lives.

Three situations to consider

2009-08-11T00:27:00.000-04:00

OK, guys, this is especially for you. There are three situations to consider, and I want you to post your thoughts on the questions at the end, or your thoughts on anything you read here.

As we all know, most white people came to the U.S. of their own free will, seeking freedom of religion or escaping a bad economic situation at home (e.g., the Irish potato famine). Most black people did NOT come of their own free will but were brought as slaves. Today, after wars and conflicts, the black minority has something of its own culture apart from the mainstream culture. (Think soul food, for example, or Kwanzaa, or first names.) This is not unique to the black minority (the culture in the south is different from that in the north, for example), but probably because of the difference in skin color, that difference is more noticeable. In certain areas of the South, relations between black and white are sometimes strained. The vast majority of black Americans vote for liberal politicians, while white Americans are divided (although the majority--not such a large majority) vote for conservative politicians. There is no notable difference between the religions that are practiced by the majority of both races, although there is a difference in style. In spite of the fact that no black people came here speaking English, it is now the only language spoken by black Americans who are descended from slaves. There is a dialect of English called Black English ("Ebonics"), but it isn't spoken by all black inhabitants and has no relationship with any language spoken by the slaves that were brought here.

Northern Ireland (the link will take you to my longer posting on my experiences in Northern Ireland) was part of Ireland until 1921. For years the British had fought to hold onto the island. In 1609, in an effort to strengthen its control over the island, Great Britain began the plantation of English and Scottish settlers in the area now called Northern Ireland, so unlike the U.S.'s black immigrants, the newcomers came of their own free will. They were supposed to force the Irish off the land, but the settlers needed workers. The Irish workers considered themselves Irish, but the British immigrants still considered themselves British. To this day, their descendents still consider themselves British. When Ireland gained its independence from Great Britain in 1921, six of the nine counties in the north, those that were populated primarily by descendents of the British who had been planted there, became Northern Ireland and remained part of Great Britain. (Great Britain--England, Scotland, Wales--and Northern Ireland together form what is called the UK or United Kingdom.) Ireland had always been Catholic, and the British during the time of the plantation had become Protestant and continued to embrace Protestantism. To this day, in Northern Ireland, Catholic is virtually synonymous with "nationalist" (wanting to be independent of Great Britain), and "Protestant" is virtually synonymous with "unionist" (wanting to remain part of Great Britain). You can talk about the conflict between unionists and nationalists or between Protestants and Catholics--it's exactly the same thing. Irish Gaelic had always been spoken in Ireland, but the British tried various means of suppressing it throughout history. When Ireland (called the Republic of Ireland to distinguish it from Northern Ireland) gained its independence in 1921, it began taking measures to revive Gaelic. It is a mandatory course of study in Irish schools. About 50% of the citizens of the Republic of Ireland consider themselves fluent in Gaelic (although some are fluent because of having learned it in school, not because they grew up speaking it), while only about 10% of the Northern Irish are fluent in Gaelic, in spite of the fact that approximately 40% are Catholic/nationalist. (Gaelic is optional in Northern Irish schools.)

Most of the European continent was divided into small kingdoms during medieval and into Renaissance times. Instead of Italy, for example, you had the kingdom of Rome, the kingdom of Venice, etc. Catalonia was one of the kingdoms of Spain, and Catalan, a descendant of Latin (like Spanish, French, Portuguese, and Italian), was the language spoken there. Catalonia had its high points and low points during its history, and it had at one point conquered the island of Mallorca and the region of Valencia, so Catalan came to be spoken in those regions. On the losing side of wars and marriages/alliances, Catalonia, along with a number of other regions, became part of what is now known as Spain. In spite of the fact that the influx of conquerors and settlers is virtually identical in Catalonia and all the rest of Spain and the fact that their histories are virtually identical in nature, Catalans consider themselves Catalans first and Spaniards second (if at all). Like the rest of Spain, Catalonia was Catholic until recent years. Now religion all over Spain is unimportant. There is no geographical separation between Catalonia and the rest of Spain. (I.e., unlike the Pyrenees that separate France and Spain, and unlike the sea that separates Ireland from Great Britain, nothing separates Catalonia from the rest of Spain any more than anything separates Georgia from South Carolina.) Catalan continues to be spoken in spite of the fact that there have been attempts to suppress it. Franco (1937-1975) forbade people to speak it in public, but when he died, there was a push for a revival of the language. Now it's the language of instruction in all public schools. It's also still spoken on Mallorca and in Valencia, but the people of Valencia are adamant that they don't speak a dialect of Catalan but rather a language called Valenciano. (Like it or not, "Valenciano" is, in fact, a dialect of Catalan, and people from Catalonia and people from Valencia understand each other perfectly well.) There are currently only about 9 million speakers of Catalan, and everyone who speaks Catalan also speaks Spanish, but there are at least three all-Catalan TV channels that have 16-24 hours of daily programming in Catalan.

Here are three different historical/cultural/political/linguistic situations. Why do you think the African languages were completely lost in the United States while Gaelic and Catalan are still spoken? Why has Catalan (within Catalonia, not even counting the other two regions) flourished while Gaelic has to be pushed forward, in spite of the fact that there's a geographical divide between Ireland and England and there's not between Catalonia and the rest of Spain? Why is Gaelic in danger of dying out in Northern Ireland, in spite of the fact that 40% of the inhabitants have Irish ancestors and traditions, just as the inhabitants of the Republic of Ireland do? Why go to the expense of creating programming in Catalan when there are 300 times more Spanish speakers in the world and therefore more programming in Spanish than in any other language besides English?

Furloughs: Yeah, right.

2009-07-13T01:05:00.000-04:00

At our Friday, August 14, faculty meeting, the last weekday before classes began, we found out that we would be required to take three furlough days before December 31. Apparently, all other Georgia state employees were also being required to take such unpaid days of leave. But as professors, all our furlough days are make-believe.

Do you have any idea how furloughs work for college professors? My sister works at the local primary school, and to fulfill their furlough days, the board cut two days off pre-session planning. I'm not sure what the third day is for them, but it's something similar.

Today was one of our furlough days. Previously, it had been known as "the first day of fall break." In other words, we were not scheduled to teach today anyway. Our second day is the Wednesday before Thanksgiving--yes, another day we're not scheduled to teach. We get to choose our third day . . . as long as it's not a day that we're scheduled to teach. Many of us don't teach on Fridays, so we can take a Friday off. If we teach five days a week, we can take off the one of the days between final exams and Dec. 24. You guessed it--we're scheduled to have those days off anyway.

The long and short of it is that they're docking us three days' pay and giving us no time off. What's infuriating is that we have no option. This is my 11th year at Gordon College, and I've taken only two sick days in that entire time. I can't afford to miss class, because I need to cover a certain amount of material, and missing class would put me behind, and I don't want to do that to my students. So if they gave us the option of taking off teaching days, most of us wouldn't. Then the required furlough days wouldn't be so demoralizing, because they wouldn't be make-believe; we would be teaching on our "days off" because we chose to do so. Of course, I realize our administration can't do that because there are, in fact, faculty members who would choose to miss class days.

But get this: next semester is exactly the same. In spite of the fact that we have three pre-session meeting/advising days, we've been given three make-believe furlough days, just like this semester. I have to hope my administration won't find this blog before they make promotion decisions, because I'm up for promotion, but there seems to me to be no reason they couldn't give us one of those days. We have meetings one of the three days, but they could give half of us one of the other two days as a furlough day and the other half of us the other day. Our administration claims to be as irate as we are at the required furloughs, because our enrollment this fall is about 16% higher than it was last fall, but they've done nothing to soften the ignominy of the make-believe furloughs. If I've estimated correctly, I'm going to be docked about $266 for each of the six furlough days. (Remember, I'm actually getting none of those.) If the administration were to give everyone a token $250 bonus just as a show of support, I'd be encouraged. I'd feel that they really did believe the furloughs were unjustified for our institution.

I'm very, very frugal. And I'm making more money than I ever thought I'd be making in academia. I've paid off my car and my house, and I won't have to do without any luxuries, let alone any necessities. Money definitely isn't the issue. Most of us here understand that the economic crisis demands some sort of action, and quite honestly, most of us could have handled an announcement of a temporary pay cut. But to call these days when we wouldn't be working anyway "furlough" days, as if we were getting some sort of break to compensate for the lack of pay, is insulting and demoralizing. I go above and beyond for my students, as do most of my colleagues, but it's hard to keep pressing on when we get this sort of insult from the powers-that-be. And that's just what we need in Georgia, isn't it--yet something else to work against the educational system.

Yesterday's Men