June Book Report: The Warmth of Other Suns

This month, I re-read Isabel Wilkerson’s splendid The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration.  I first read the book when it was published in 2010 and the stories and history Wilkerson wove quickly inserted themselves into both my understanding of our national history and my teaching of it.  I never forgot the descriptions of the journeys that Wilkerson describes and when I began to plan the Civics and Citizenship class I will teach 8th graders in the coming school year, I knew that Wilkerson’s book would be a part of it.

At over 500 pages, it’s rather more than the 8th grade is ready for all at once.  But earlier this month I commenced a re-read to choose sections from the book to serve as the foundation for the summer reading I will assign the class.  In any setting, the book is worth reading.  In this moment of historical time, as the growing Black Lives Matter has absorbed our national interest to a greater degree than it ever has before, it was a particularly powerful re-read.

Wilkerson writes like a journalist but thinks like an historian and the combination ensures that the reader flies through the pages.  When I did put the book down, my mind was consumed with the arc of the story she was telling.

My Civics and Citizenship class will start with the second founding of the United States, the one accompanied by the Reconstruction amendments.  Though the Great Migration doesn’t “officially” start until the second decade of the 1900s, the seeds of it were planted by those amendments and our subsequent national failure at the task of rebuilding a national union with liberty and justice for all.  My class will take itself to the 1970s and the close of the Great Migration.  At every stop along the way, Wilkerson’s book will accompany the story we will learn.

Parts of the book will be required reading for my 8th graders.  I do this in the explicit hope that as they grow into their citizenship, they will read the rest of the book on their own.  

Golden Hour Days

The last hour of sunlight in late June and July is splendid on clear days and for a few minutes before the dusk truly settles around us, the whole of Sassafras House is aglow with light so magical that even calling it the Golden Hour doesn’t sum up how lovely it is.

Saturday evening the light was especially nice and I popped outside to make some pictures.

I find such joy in moments like this; a pleasure that infuses my heart for longer than the moment itself lasts.  

Summer, with its verdant plants and blooms, with its ease and warm blue skies, seems an especially nice time to pause and enjoy the Golden Hour.

Pedicure!

Yesterday, I got my first pedicure since life shut down in mid-March.  It’s an admittedly small thing but I have missed my trips to the salon for the quiet luxury of a pedicure.  My regular salon is a hard-working family business that always makes me feel welcome; yesterday was no exception.  The salon was re-organized to allow separation; at limited capacity and with plastic shields between customers and employees.  We all wore masks.  We also took care to ask how people and their families had fared while the business was closed.  I treated myself to some flowers on my big toe, a celebration of the summer and gratitude for this small bit of unmitigated pleasure in a hard time.

That’s happy!

Footloose

Thinking about the joys of a road trip got me thinking about other things I miss thanks to the pandemic.

High on that list are the joys of a pedicure.

Nail salons have been shut down since stay-at-home orders went into effect in mid-March.  My last pedicure was March 8.

Yes, I am counting.

As New Jersey begins staged re-opening, nail salons are expected to re-open later this month.  My raggedy feet and I cannot wait.  I have missed the treat that is the smooth feel of pumiced feet and shiny, polished toenails.  I know it’s a small thing.  I know that staying home was more important than my toe nails.  But, damn, I am beyond ready for a pedicure.  

Adventures in New Jersey: Monmouth Battlefield

Heady with the success of our first Saturday adventure in New Jersey, T and I set off to visit Monmouth Battlefield last Saturday.  The day was hot and humid and there were a few bolts of lightening and raindrops as we made the drive south.  The trees were a lovely reward when we arrived.

We walked down the hill and across a bridge over the salt marsh.

These days, the fields where the battle was fought are farmed and there were neat rows of corn as far as the eye could see.

New Jersey often offers this kind of contrast, with salt marshes and woods, farmlands and green fields often located right next to another.

The beauty of the state at its finest is never lost on me.  I have been glad to call this place home for the last 18 years.  These days, as the people of our state have hunkered down to flatten the curve, I’ve been proud of the spirit of my fellow New Jerseyans, masks on and six feet apart as we share kind smiles and look after one another.  In public spaces, I feel a renewed recognition that we are truly in this together. The landscape we enjoy seems more valued than ever as we remember that more than 13,000 of us no longer can take joy in these views.  

Peach Trees & Blue Skies

My backyard never fails to bring me happiness.  It’s green and overgrown and just the way I like it.  

Some days, it’s nice to pause and admire the beauty that surrounds me, all here for the taking even when the world seems to be spinning out of my control.

These peaches are growing bigger by the day.  Though I fear that most will serve as squirrel snacks, I am hopeful that at least a few can be served at my supper table.  Each day moves us a little closer to that prospect.

Monday Garden Update - June 22

What a difference two weeks makes; especially two weeks of warm weather.  There are tomato blooms aplenty and on a few plants, actual tomatoes!

It was hard to make a picture but there are jalapeños just set on.  The basil is starting to look happy, and the zinnia seedlings are strong.

An afternoon of weeding is clearly in order but things are looking most splendid here in my garden.

That’s happy!

Juneteenth

I vividly remember the history class where I first learned about Juneteenth.  I was an undergraduate at UCLA - so it was the late ‘80s - and there was a passing reference to June 19 Black community celebrations in Texas in a collection of essays about the end of slavery.  I read them for a post-Civil War/Reconstruction American history class and the reference caught my attention.

I recall thinking that I had never heard of it before; that the professor in the history class never mentioned it himself.  At the time, I was a Californian through and through and that Southern history seemed distant from the world in which I lived.

Within a few years, I had moved to Nashville and Southern and Civil War history was everywhere I looked.  The more I explored the locations of historical events; the more I read the history of the Civil War and Reconstruction, the more Juneteenth stood out in my mind, as both an idea and a celebration.  It stood out as a cultural reflection of the history I was thinking about and sought to understand and it also stood out for its absence in the world of mainstream American culture.

In the last few years, Juneteenth has attracted more attention.  This year, in the explosion of real and, it seems, enduring interest in taking on the challenges of repairing the years of systemic inequality that is modern America, Juneteenth is at the center of our current dialogue.  If we want to make real the pledge that Black lives matter, and I certainly do, it’s long overdue that we think about our national history in terms of what’s been neglected, marginalized, or just plain left out.

For my Civics and Citizenship 8th grade class, summer reading will include a reflection on Juneteenth (this one, by Annette Garden Reed, which is both personal and historically rich), and some more readings around the idea of what history gets monuments, what gets ignored, and what that difference tells us about our national identity.

At minimum, my 8th graders will know and understand Juneteenth well before the age when I first knew of it.  At maximum, well, when you know that truth of your nations’s history, then you know the challenges that lie before you.  You learn what kind of citizen you would like to become.  That’s why 8th graders need to know our history.  And knowing about Juneteenth seems like a very good place to start.

Front Porch Doings

Each morning, my first stop when I come downstairs is out on the front porch, where I enjoy my morning coffee and read a few chapters of whatever book has my attention.  I sit among the flowers and the blooming plants and I am grateful for the new day.  In warm weather, this porch is my favorite room in the house.  Come the summer I spend a lot of time in its shade.  In the morning, the neighborhood birds chirp their morning greeting and, lately, I’ve been blessed by the company of this little bird, known to me as Pippa.  Sometimes she rests on the strong of lights.

Other days, she stands near my flip flops.

Pippa is tiny and she flits about, landing on the flagpole or wherever she choose, usually pausing to sing a morning greeting.  She is a part of my summer routine and though I anticipate she will quickly grow larger and fly farther away, for now she is a welcome visitor.  That’s happy!

Under Old Man Tree

Now that old man tree has leafed up, much of the day finds the back deck under a canopy of shade.

I can spend hours out here with my books, sitting in the shade next to the flower pots that soak in the back deck sunlight.  The pots of impatiens look like they have a cap of flowers

These bright flowers are lovely and I plant pot after pot of them, always thinking it wouldn't hurt to have a few more.

The pink begonias - which seemed to attract the squirrels - are hearty and cheerful.  

These companions brighten the day and remind me to be glad of my blessings, both great and small.  

Adventures in New Jersey: Voorhees State Park

The beautiful weather took hold of us and T and I set out on Saturday afternoon to enjoy a picnic and at Voorhees State Park.  The views were pretty.

The breezes and green forests were a reminder to stop and breathe.

We enjoyed ourselves so much that we’re planning some more local adventures this summer.  That’s happy!

Civics and Citizenship

For most of my time as a middle school teacher, I’ve taught at 7th grade history class that spans the time from the founding to the issuing of the Emancipation Proclamation.  I know the period well and I like to study and teach it.  I’ve used the point at which the Constitution is adopted to insert some Civics into the mix but the focus has been more on early American history.

Last fall, as my colleagues and I were thinking about revisions of our curriculum, I knew that a change I wanted to make was to insert more civics education into the experiences of my middle schoolers.  We decided that we could revise 8th grade history to take on this challenge.

So I will be teaching a new course come the fall, a class to be called Civics and Citizenship.  We’ll explore American history from the vantage o=point of the meaning of the Reconstruction amendments to the Constitution.  The course is driven by the meaning of those amendments and the ways in which the ending of slavery and the requirement of equal protection of the law seeks to both fulfill the promise of the Declaration of Independence and makes our Constitution a meaningful and important document.

Since I first conceived of the idea behind the course, I’ve been reading and thinking about it.  This summer, as I’m on the runway to the launch of the class,  I am organizing lessons, reading assignments, and pulling together the documents that will be the foundation of the course.  As I do that, I’m thinking about what Civics and Citizenship mean and for the next year, as the course is launched, I will record my thoughts here.

I’m excited to create and teach this course and even more excited to do it now, when thinking about our history and what it means to be American is as important a task as it ever was.

Roadtrip Longings

I long to pack up a bag, fire up Black Beauty, and hit the road for an adventure.  T feels the same way.   On our usual adventures, we identify a place and wander that way in search of farm stands, antique shops, historical sites, charming back roads, and night time skies with stars.  With a loose agenda, we go and stop when we like, filling the days in a meandering way.

The current state of the world rather prevents this kind of hapless, unplanned adventure.  For now, we’re not even sure when such a modest trip can be undertaken.  But we both like daydream about such an adventure.  For now, that will to be enough.

Monday Garden Update - June 8

Plants are staked and soaking in the sunlight.  As usual in the early stages of a garden, weeding is constant priority.

But there are tomato blooms and zinnia seedlings and things are coming along nicely.  

Everything is the Same

I am a planner.  I have lists on paper, lists that live in my head, symbols of the passage of time are present in so much of my daily life.  

I keep a stack of bookmarks and I choose a new one with each book I start, carefully placing the one just used at the bottom of the stack, ready to use in the future, aware as I do it that the 10 books down the line may be read over two or three months  When I open a bag of coffee beans, I think of the future, aware that when the bag has emptied, six weeks will have passed.

I organize so much of the minutiae of my daily life in this way.  I watch a houseplant as new growth sparks and know that when the new leaf is full, the next season will be closer at hand.  I organize the cloth napkins on which I set out my morning coffee service each week and know that when the floral ones have been used, the bandana prints will follow, and then the green floral prints, and then…..my mind quietly recites the events to which I can look forward: JT will be home from college, T’s birthday will be celebrated, my tomatoes will bloom….

I do this so often, so much of the time, that it feels as if the planning and anticipation are just another part of my daily life.

I thought of this habit this morning when, for the first time in weeks, I put on some mascara, sandals instead of my now customary work-from-home flip flops, a skirt fancier than what I’ve worn for the last few months, and got ready for the last day of school.  But I didn’t walk out the front door and drive 8 miles to school in the early morning.  Instead, I went downstairs to sit at my desk for a Zoom teleconference with the 7th grade.  Together, if from our separate homes, we watched a recorded version of our closing ceremony and said goodbye to the school year.

Today is the last day of school and, in a normal world, I would have been anticipating this day for weeks; weeks marked by bookmarks shifting and different morning coffee set ups, by an app on my phone that marks each day that ticks by until a much-anticipated event will occur.

Instead, the weeks have all jumbled together as we lived in the world of the pandemic.  Daily existence seemed both more important and smaller as we navigated the condensed world of everything happening at home.  The amount of work required to teach remotely meant that weekends were also given over to work, hours and hours spent writing clear instructions for students to read and carefully follow so that they would know where to be: in Zoom, at our class webpage, on a shared Google doc, in a discussion forum…..but all of it from the same place, looking at the same screen.

So it seemed fitting that today would be the same as so many of the school days have been since we began to learn remotely.  That time has passed is clear.  The curve of disease has flattened,  my pandemic anxiety has become a familiar companion, the days have more sunshine and warmth, everyone has longer hair, we’ve learned new things.  But there is a sameness to it all that is the unsettling reminder of all that we’ve been through together even as we’ve been in our separate homes.

Peonies!

This week the peonies got to work making a splendid show of themselves alongside the rhododendron and the pot of pink begonias.

   

I love these showy, blousy flowers.

T gave me this plant more than five years ago and each June, it turns out a few more blossoms.

This week, as I contemplate our ugly, racist history, as our president is non-stop idiot, the worldwide toll of COVID-19 grows larger by the hour, and I contemplate a summer of anxious social distancing, I am grateful for the blessings of these beautiful flowers.

Front Porch in June

Thanks to my splendid assortment of house plants, the front porch is practically a rain forest this month; each corner filled with happy plants.

T gave me a new flagpole and now that it’s installed, it’s a decided improvement, with a spinning piece that keeps the flag from tangling up in the wind.

The June flag looks nice against the blue sky, a happy reminder to breath and enjoy the day.

There are plenty of flowers and plants to keep me company when I sit on the porch each morning with my book.

The last day of school is Friday and I am looking forward to at least a few days of rest before I start to work on my summer projects.  I’m tired and in need of some rest.  This porch soothes my tired mind and I will be glad to idle away the hours out here.

Front Yard Flowerbed in June

This flowerbed has been splendid for all of May and as the azaleas moved past peak bloom, some slender, tall iris flowers began to emerge.  

I watched with care as I didn’t want to miss the chance to admire the flowers that emerged. 

The hostas are freshly verdant.  

There is jewel weed growing wild in the last of the open spots in the soil and I like it.  It will stay until I fill this space in the flowerbed, likely with some vinca later this summer.  The arrival of consistent warm weather has been a nice.  It’s starting to feel that despite the fact that we are still working from home and social distancing, things are beginning to shift toward whatever we will call this still-living-with-a-pandemic kind of normal.

In the midst of the uncertainty and anxiety, I peak over the side of my front porch and the view is lovely, a gardener’s reminder to be patient and on the lookout for unexpected joy.  

An Ugly History

I usually reserve the first posting of the month for something about my garden.  That post will go live later today.  But this morning my mind is whirling with the events of the weekend, with last Monday’s killing of George Floyd, and with thoughts of how a path forward can be paved.

I stand with the demonstrators and I believe in the power of peaceful protest.  As a student of American history, a teacher preparing a class for the fall of 2020 predicated on the idea that the promise of the 1776 Declaration of Independence and the 1787 Constitution were not made real until adoption of the 13th, 14th, and 15th amendment in 1868, I know that the American story is fundamentally a story of racism and inequality.

Trump and his white supremacy views don’t help.  But they only the latest in the vein of ugly racism that is our nation’s founding truth.  Until we acknowledge that, we can’t confront or deal with it.  

We are none of us free until all of us are free.  That we ignore this truth is our great national shame.