Why I Love Susan Boyle

Perhaps it's because I, like Susan Boyle--the Scottish singing sensation from 'Britain's Got Talent' who is burning up the Internet right now--am unemployed and have more time on my hands than usual, compounded by the fact that I've been confined to my apartment for the past two days due to a bad flu, but I've watched the youtube clip of Susan's performance about five times now, and each time been in awe and admiration of this woman.

Why do I love Susan Boyle? And more importantly, why do millions of people across the world love her so much? It's not that different of an answer than I would give if you asked me why reality television has become popular, not just in the U.S. but elsewhere. People can relate to Susan Boyle, and all the other contestants on reality game shows and the like. What makes Susan Boyle so special is that she is 'more real' and therefore more relatable than many other reality show types, who probably work out for days or do their hair special or make extra efforts to look 'better' for the cameras, and Susan is a real 'come as you are type'. Mark Goulston, on the Huffington Post, gives his opinion of the Susan phenomenon here.

Also, we love Susan because she confounds our very narrow and messed-up stereotypes of what talented people should look, act and live like. Her life, from the little we know about it, has been anything but dramatic or glamorous. It's been quite a normal, if not a little sad ("never been kissed") life, during which she's lived in a village with her parents the whole time, has never been married, and cared for here mother before she died a few years back. Susan, by all intents and purposes, is not what we think of when we think of 'star potential' or talent.

But the reality is that--and I think we all know this deep down inside--there are many, many thousands of if not hundreds of thousands of people out there who are just as talented (if not moreso) as Susan, but who are stuck in the drudgery of everyday life, because of where and to what strata of society they were born, because of shyness or lack of opportunity, or because they've been told that they are NOT talented by others who are bitter and jealous or what-have-you.

I love Susan Boyle because she so clearly loves to sing, loves to do the thing that she has not been able to do for her livelihood, but as a 'hobby' or something to do for fun. And, lucky for her she's really good at it! It's always beautiful to see someone who is so present when they do something, who loves what they are doing and are good and it and can move and inspire others when they are doing it. I feel the same when I watch my husband DJ or when I watch amazing dancers on stage or when I see a good public speaker. These are people using the gifts that the Creator gave them to create good in the world, and people respond to that.

I've been thinking a lot about my own life purpose lately, not feeling like much of a writer or anything else since I've stopped working and have been taking a break from a lot of things. I know that I'll get back into the thick of things soon enough, and that this time of rest is important and productive and necessary in its own way. But seeing Susan Boyle sing has inspired me to not give up on my own dreams, or at least not give up on trying to figure out what they are.

Susan is the epitome of the rags-to-riches tale, despite the fact that she's not yet 'hit it big'. It always amazes me how quickly and brightly someone's star can rise on the international stage, only to fall into obscurity not long afterwards. Fifteen minutes indeed. But I think there's something, dare I say it, in the stars and in the cosmos right now that makes all of us human beings long for more Susan Boyles, to long for our life's purpose. I hope her performance inspires other people to pursue their dreams, no matter how silly or impractical as they may seem.

Review of 'Long Way Gone' by Ishmael Beah

This is just my brief reaction via goodreads, but I figure the old cut and paste is a good way to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Enjoy!

A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
i gave this book an extra star because this story is so important in this day and age, when war for Americans has become a video-game-like-unreality divorced from our everyday lives and while so many people (including more and more children) are the victims or perpetrators of atrocious acts of violence. While the writing itself wasn't brilliant, it was very readable and the voice of the author, Ishamel Beah, was clear and resonant throughout. I liked the fact that several of the war stories that he tells are presented as flashbacks during the time of his rehabilitation, effectively mimicking how the author's violent past came back to haunt him even when he was no longer in the army. I also liked how the author didn't get into the politics/ideological arguments between the different factions fighting the war. In the end, that stuff didn't really seem to matter as both sides were 'recruiting' boy soldiers into their ranks. The author did an excellent job--like Elie Wiesel did in 'Night'--of illustrating the absurd futility and waste of war, as well as the healing that can come to those who were affected by it afterwards.


View all my reviews.

Disbelief, Grief, Outrage, Sorrow

Rest in Peace: Carl Joseph Hoover-Walker (1997-2009)

Those are the emotions that came up for me when I heard about Carl Joseph Hoover-Walker's suicide after the boy endured weeks if not months of bullying at his school. I don't even know what to say about this or write, except for that my heart goes out to the spirit of that young boy, who hopefully now is at peace in whatever after-life there may be, and also to his family who is trying to speak out and make sure that this destructive behavior does not continue.

Children are the most victimized and brutalized members of our society. Children of color, LGBT/queer or perceived-queer children, children who are disabled or are in any way 'others' to the American mainstream are often subject to humiliation, violence, marginalization and other forms of oppression that just need to stop. This young man's death is senseless in every way. This did not need to happen.

Two more posts here and here, and a heartfelt plea from a young man to participate in the national Day of Silence on April 17th to protest the hateful harassment and discrimination of LGBTQ people in this country.

I hope the teachers and parents of the children who bullied young Carl are talking to those young people, and trying to bring healing to the wounds that exist in that community, in all our communities. Rest in peace, Carl. I hope and pray that your death was not in vain.

The Second Day of the Rest of My Life

This past year has been one of many changes, big changes--endings and beginnings of relationships, deepening of some, letting go of others. It's been an intense, fun, amazing and life-changing year. And I think it's just now starting to settle in for me, I'm finally feeling the gravity and the significance of these changes, now that I've stopped working at my full-time job and have time to sit, reflect, write and just be.

I'm sitting here writing this in a cafe, because my house is just too messy to write in and not get distracted right now, and I just finished working on one of my short stories--which I'm planning to submit to VONA on Tuesday for Junot Diaz and / or ZZ Packer's workshops--for about an hour. That may not seem like a long time to you but that is a long frickin' time to write for me. I haven't spent that much time working on a piece in the middle of the day, on a weekday, in YEARS.

And you know what? It feels good. Damn good. And all the preparation for my transition out of CFJ, all the planning and calculating how much consulting work I'd have to line up to make as much money as I was making before on less hours of work (not as much work as I thought I'd have to do, actually), all the worrying about how to deal with my health insurance and paying taxes quarterly, after all that, I'm finally realizing that what it all comes down to is having the TIME to do what I want to do, and not be beholden to numerous other people's needs and agendas, anxieties and problems.

I am feeling very blessed right now, as there are lots of people out there who need work and can't find it, and here I am choosing to work less and do something as silly and pointless as creative writing so that I can be happy. Believe me, I've set myself up pretty well (so far) work-wise. I'm not dumb and I'm not the kind of person that is happy not knowing where my next paycheck is, so I've done lots of planning. But I still feel fortunate that the stars have aligned and that there are enough people out there who have been supportive (including, ironically, my old job!) and helpful that I can do this and feel totally good about it.

Yesterday was my first day off from work, so today, then, is the second day of the rest of my life. And so far, I'm liking it.

Transitions, Endings

Life is all about change, impermanence, things evolving. Tonite my organization is throwing me a good-bye/thank you party, as my last day there is in twelve days, after working there on staff or as a volunteer in some capacity for nearly the past fourteen years. I was sharing with my Executive coach, the fabulous Belma Gonzalez, recently that I haven't been feeling super-emotional about my leaving yet, and that that surprised me. I would think, 'Is there something wrong with me that I'm not feeling overly sad or guilty or happy?' It's not that emotion hasn't come up in the days leading to my departure, it's just that it hasn't overwhelmed me.

Belma, bless her, posited in her very optimistic and supportive fashion, that perhaps the emotions weren't overwhelming because I'd been doing a lot of work to just sit with them and not push them away or not acknowledge them, and also because it was probably just the right time to leave the organization--for the organization itself, as well as for me and my life. I know she's right--and it's not like I haven't had moments of difficult or frustration or sadness or even a little (but not much!) guilt, and a lot of happiness about the next phase of my life post-CFJ--it's just kind of amazing to me to be in this place of relative equanimity, and to be okay with all the different things that are arising.

I'm sure though, tonite, that I will get emotional, as over 50 folks are slated to come through to my party. It's always amazing--something i realized at our wedding--when your community gathers around you to celebrate you, to thank you, or just to acknowledge something like your birthday. It's a beautiful, precious thing, and something I don't think enough of us on this planet get to experience often enough. I'm still figuring out what I'm going to say during my little 'speech' tonite--I feel like I must be preparing to receive an Oscar or something--but I'm sure it's all going to be fine.

Wish me luck! And let's hope whatever tears come up don't mess up my makeup. ;)

It's Been a While...

I know I've been neglectful of this blog. Just haven't felt inspired to write here. I've been writing quite a bit in my notebook and journal, including some (bad, half-formed) poetry that felt good to write. Lots going on in my life these days, from transitioning out of my full-time day-job into a more part-time, fundraising consulting practice, in order to make more time for (you guessed it) writing as well as my family/personal life. Also, this past couple weeks my Auntie, who immigrated from the Philippines just a couple years ago and whom I've blogged a bit about before, was in town and I wanted to spend a little time with her. Lastly, I feel like since the wedding I've been slowly reclaiming my life, going back to a pace that is more normal for me and enjoying my free time and not guilt-tripping myself that I'm not being ultra-productive every minute of the day. Productive rest is one of my mottos for 2009, and I've been taking it quite seriously lately. Still, I'm doing some consulting work outside of my day-job already, so it's not like I haven't been busy with paying gigs.

Hopefully I won't take so long to write again. Blogging is a good outlet for me. Let me know you're reading and I'll be even more motivated to stay current here.

It's a Start: 'Why I Love Oakland'

So this guy is probably all down for redevelopment and gentrification in a bad way, and you gotta be wary of any white dude who says 'I've never been a racist', but I'm so glad to finally have the San Francisco Chronicle print something positive about Oakland, even if it is just a column, that I am compelled to post this here. I know a lot of people who feel the same way, or even more passionate, about Oakland.

I've been toying with the idea of starting a new blog about Oakland, mostly because of all the negative and extremely biased and racist press it's been receiving lately, but also because there are so many enlightening, lovely and poignant stories being lived and never told in this beautiful city that I want to help expose to the rest of the world. Oakland is not a perfect place, by any means, but it's also not the 'hell', 'scumhole' and 'wasteland' that I've heard so many people who don't live here (and who may have never even really spent time here) say it is.

Oakland has been my home for the better part of the last seventeen years, and it's the home of thousands and thousands of die-hard Bay Area folks who know no other haven. I wish the people that talk so badly about this place would remember that. And the fact that we love it in spite of, or in some cases, because of its flaws and imperfections and the way the people here rise above all those things, is a beautiful thing, something to emulate.

Quick Review of Sherman Alexie's New Book

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
I liked this book quite a bit, more by the end than I thought I would. I still don't understand why it's being marketed as a 'young adult' book--if that was Alexie's goal or if that was his agent's or publisher's way of trying to make more money. In any case, there are plenty of harsh grown-up truths in this book to make it challenging even for a cynical reader like me to breeze through. Although I didn't enjoy the fact that the protagonist, Arnold Spirit, seemed so in love with white people throughout the book--when they weren't beating him up or acting racist, that is--I think Alexie did a great job helping me understand how Arnold in some ways HAD to love white people in order to have any hope to escape the poverty and misery of the reservation where he lived. The political activist of color in me wanted Alexie to show more of the positive things about Rez life, but in the end, I'm glad he didn't, because that wouldn't have been honest to the character or the story he was trying to tell. And he did describe some lovely details from the character's perspective (moments with his grandmother and best friend, Rowdy, for example) that were achingly beautiful in their painfulness and irony. I would love to hear what a teenager/young adult thought about this book!


View all my reviews.

And Now for Something Completely Different...and Geeky

I have to say that I was excited about the iPhone when it came out, although not excited enough to actually go and buy one. Even when the second version came out, no biting from this hard-core functionality girl-geek. I need my technology to not only be pretty, but be extremely functional. That said, I am also a dyed-in-the-wool (i don't know what that phrase really means but it somehow feels right to use it here) Mac-head, as the first real home computer I ever used was my uncle's old Macintosh with the black and beige-ish floppy disk drive that I used to play video games on when I was a kid. The biggest single purchase I've ever made was of the beautiful (yes, I said beautiful) and highly functional 15" aluminum Powerbook G4 that I'm typing on right now. And yes, my beautiful laptop has a name, but I'm not telling you what it is.

So my Mac credentials are firmly established. At the same time, I have been using a Palm handheld organizer device of some kind for the past four years or so. I find them extremely handy and useful, and practical, not to mention cheap. So despite my lust for the iPhones--which was tempered and cooled by the fact that AT&T's service plan for it cost a good $99 per month--I stuck with my handy-but-not-at-all-fancy Zire, with my handy-bu-even-less-fancy Samsung Sprint cell phone as my mobile communication tool.

But now, all bets are off. Because Palm has out-Mac'd Mac with the new Pre, a mobile device that seems to do everything I liked about the iPhone and then some. The iPhone is pretty and has some cool, interesting apps which are completely useless as time management or practical tools (yeah it's cool that you can find the name of a song just by putting your iPhone up to the stereo as it's played, but really, I'd rather have system-wide cut-and-paste functionality!), but the Pre is just a better work horse. Of course, this is a new gadget and there will most likely be many bugs to be worked out, but I have to say, I'm geekin' out over here.

Would'ya READ something already?

I'm amused but starting to get a little irritated by all the anti-Reverend Lowery stuff out there right now, from white people mostly but also from some people of color that don't 'get' what the good Reverend was saying. As I don't have time to break this all down for folks with my perspective (which is just one perspective), and since there are plenty of other more articulate and learned people who have broken it down already, I offer the following links:

• A post from African-American blogger Tonya Jameson at the Charlotte Observer.com.

• A more in-depth collection of links to articles about Reverend Lowery's background, life and political/racial analysis, which informed his benediction speech, from a white blogger in Rhode Island.

• A really interesting break-down of different ways to interpret the 'Black will not be asked to get back', etc. part of the Reverend's benediction.

• And a brief post from blogger Doug LeMoine that has a subtly humorous closing line that I loved about white people.

So if you know people that are confused, offended, curious or angry about Reverend Lowery's speech, please direct them to the links above. It's a new day, folks, and race is not going to become a thing of the past--we're just now actually going to be able to deal with it in a more honesty way, I hope. But that means that some folks who have not had to think about race much in the past because of white privilege or class privilege or whatever, are going to have to get educated. They're going to have to read some stuff and struggle with some tough issues and some challenging emotions and learn how to grow through it all.

Ending, Beginning, Celebrating

What an amazing day! Yesterday (1/20/2009) felt more like New Year's Day to me than January 1st did--full of celebration, community, reflection, healing, music and good food. It was truly the end of an era--and lest we forget, in our giddy rush into the bright future that President Obama (God, it feels so good to say/type those words!) has asked us to build together, the suffering and misery that was created by the Bush administration, here are a couple things to remind us. I was with H. and our friend B. at the Oakland Coliseum to watch the historic inauguration of our 44th President, Barack Hussein Obama, with thousands of other Oaklanders. Black, White, Asian, Latino and other folks joined together in a mass gathering of joy, release, celebration and patriotism that I have never experienced before. Here are some pics of the event:

































I also thought it showed how much class Obama had when he tried to give Chief Justice John Roberts the chance to correct himself when he screwed up the Oath of Office. Class act, this guy, all the way. Even if you disagree with his politics or don't like his proposals, you have to admit he has class and tact.

It was really cool that Reverend Lowery opened his benediction with the lyrics from 'Lift Every Voice and Sing', the Black National Anthem, and H. and I LOVED the Reverend Lowery's benediction (and I have to say, Yes on 8, anti-gay marriage activist Reverend Rick Warren's invocation was also rousing, but less inspiring for me). I thought it was interesting that the very black/brown but still multi-racial crowd at the Coliseum laughed and 'got' the joke, and it seemed clear that many Black folks in the stands understood that the good Reverend was flippin' the script on the old US race/caste system by changing up the words to this old anti-Jim Crow song, 'Get Back (Black, Brown and White)', while later on YouTube I saw people (I'm assuming White, call Rev. Lowery a 'racist' for saying things like 'that the White man can embrace what's right man'. And that our President was sittin' up there laughing and chuckling at the Reverend's words. This was an indication of things to come, and white folks are going to need to start gettin' educated about race, both the entrenched legacy of racism and the current-day racism that all people of color face on some level, if they want to 'get' what's going on in this country.

After the inauguration, I had the kind of chill Oakland day (thanks to having the day off from work) that I love. Finally got to go to the new Cathedral of Christ the Light next to beautiful Lake Merritt. I have to say it was much more impressive than I thought it would be.







Then, finally, after meditation class at the East Bay Meditation Center and a nice dinner (great salad but the main course of braised chicken was pretty tasteless) at the Franklin Square Wine Bar, H. and I first headed to the Bench and Bar, a gay bar that used to be predominantly Black and seemed to be pretty mixed last night. We ended up talking to a really drunk gay white dude who couldn't believe that we were married.

Then finally, we went down to Jack London Square to witness a block party outside Everett and Jones barbeque joint, where a pretty mellow, mostly Black crowd bopped and swayed to live R&B to celebrate the inauguration of the first African-American President of the United States. We ran into old Lefties Miriam Ching-Louie and Belvin Louie, which is always a nice surprise. But mostly it just felt good to know that hope was not some distant horizon any longer, that a new day was dawning and that we had been a part of making history.

New Links and more on Oscar Grant protests

Added a few new links to the blogroll:

Seeking Avalon, where a recent, spirited debate on the representation of people of color characters by white writers of fantasy and sci-fi caught my eye.

K. Tempest Bradord's blog (can I have a middle name like 'Tempest', please?), whom I found via Claire Light's See Light blog--both these are women of color Speculative Fiction writers whom I hope to get to know better in the coming year.

And, no I haven't forgotten about the Oscar Grant tragedy and aftermath in Oakland. How could I with media and police helicopters swarming my office and home neighborhoods for nearly three days straight. But instead of writing more about it here, I'll point you to another new link in my blogroll: Richard Wright aka DJ Fflood's blog, as well as a couple interesting posts on Racialicious here and here.

Was it a 'Riot'?

Thank God the mainstream media finally published something sensible about the Oscar Grant protest turned 'riot' last week. Dori Maynard, incidentally, is the widow of former Oakland Tribune publisher/editor Bob Maynard, whom I believe was the paper's first African-American publisher back in the 1970s.

And this comes the morning that another protest is planned at City Hall tonite. Also, the officer who shot Oscar Grant (because we all saw the video, right?), has finally been
arrested on murder charges after quitting the BART police force and skipping town to Nevada.

I only hope that, in this case, justice may be done for Oscar Grant. And that the community may be able to count a small victory, and an important one, at the end of the day.

Justice for Oscar Grant

There's a protest scheduled for today at Fruitvale BART in Oakland to address the police shooting there of Oscar Grant, a 22-year old man, on New Year's Eve. You can also find it on Facebook.

Rest in Peace: Oscar Grant

Oscar Grant was a 22-year-old African-American man, father of a four-year-old child and a butcher at a local Oakland supermarket that H. and I used to frequent. He was killed by a BART cop's bullet on New Year's Eve at the Fruitvale station in Oakland, only a few miles away from where I live. Although I didn't know Oscar, he could've been any number of young Black men walking the streets of Oakland, Hayward, Alameda, San Francisco, etc. Unfortunately, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Words can't really express what I'm feeling now. I know there are many other gun-related and other violent deaths that happen in Oakland and around the world everyday. Only some of these capture the attention of the media and, thus, the general public. I hope that this story results in some good being done, although this young man's untimely death could never be made up for. I hope and pray for justice and for a peaceful resolution to the violence that is rampant in our society.

Thanks to the Applied Research Center for posting this action alert on their blog, RaceWire.

Movie Review: Beyond a Shadow of a 'Doubt'

Couldn't help myself with the pun, there. I just saw the film 'Doubt', written and directed by the playwright, John Patrick Shanley (a good Irish-Catholic boy, no doubt), who won a Pulitzer Prize for his original play of the same name, and starring one of the tightest, most brilliant casts I think I've ever seen on screen: notably, the ever-formidable and ridiculously talented Meryl Streep, and the equally virtuosic chameleon Philip Seymour Hoffman. However, Viola Davis in particular deserves major acknowledgment, as her one speaking scene in the film, opposite Streep, showed how powerful an actor can be even with less than ten minutes on screen. Amy Adams was also terrific as a naive young nun who becomes sort of a human moral scale, weighing the accusations flying between Streep's Sister Aloysius and Hoffman's Father Flynn with a bewilderment that mirrors that of the audience as we grapple with the grave issues presented in the film.

The film can be summarized, or written off, depending on how you see it--the way that another amazing film, 'Brokeback Mountain', could be written off as the 'gay cowboy movie' when it's so much more than that--as the 'Catholic Church sexual abuse scandal movie'. And despite the injustice of that description to the film, I think if that kind of controversial summary makes people come to the theater to watch it, then great. I think every Catholic or recovering Catholic, at minimum, should see this film. I don't want to say too much more because this is the type of film that's best enjoyed through conversation with other viewers, because the director/writer leaves so much up to subjective interpretation. And I like that. He and the actors have set up a world that is totally believable (although H. could barely believe that even during my Catholic school experience in the 1980s I knew nuns like Sister Aloysius and was as terrified of them as the school kids in the film are of Streep's character), and with it, they pull you in irresistibly with universal and immortal themes of faith, redemption, the complexity of human nature, and, yes, doubt.

As a survivor of sexual abuse myself, I appreciated the nuances of morality and the lack of judgment of the characters that permeated the film. It offers a very humanizing portrait of what can be a very polarizing and dehumanizing (for all people involved, from perpetrator to victim) experience.

I will say that the film is far from perfect, with some heavy-handed symbolism getting in the way of even this ultra-ritualistic Catholic School-girl's enjoyment. But all in all, it's a tightly-crafted, important film and seeing it is well worth the price of admission.

If you need more encouraging, a couple reviews that I liked can be found on the Independent Critic web site (this one is written by a sexual abuse survivor, at Pajiba (which wins the award for best self-description of its site: Scathing Reviews for Bitchy People), and the New York Times.

Suffice it to say that beyond a shadow of a doubt (there I go again with the puns!), this is probably the best film I've seen this year. I hope Oscar will too.

List: 2008 Retrospective (and Resolutions), Part II

Yay! I actually made it around to posting a Part II to a Part I. (I've promised to do so for other posts in the past, without delivering. Maybe this is a good sign that I'll be able to achieve my new year's resolutions for 2009? I hope so).

Traveling to Belize on my honeymoon, which was a relaxing, satisfying and truly lovely experience, and not just because it was my honeymoon! It had been more than a year since I'd traveled out of the country, and more than two years since I'd had a 'vacation' trip abroad (to Europe with H. in 2006). Especially in this year of Obama-fication, it was important for me to see how folks in other countries were reacting to the U.S.'s sudden change of destiny. Some American ex-pats that we ran into in Placencia, Belize said that they had a huge party the night after the election, with free beer for all. I for one am glad that McCain didn't win so that I wouldn't have to explain to folks why Americans are so intent on destroying themselves and the rest of the world with us. And of course, Belize itself as a country, as a Caribbean-bound-land, was gorgeous and lush and friendly and down-to-earth and pristine and just the antidote for my work-weary body and mind. You can see some of our photos on Flickr.

Reconnecting with family and friends, mostly because of wedding planning and the wedding itself and, of course, because of the reality that now, as a formally married (read: now-formally-accepted as a real couple by most of society, even in the progressive bubble of the Bay Area), it seems that our friends and family sort of take more seriously our invitations to lunch, dinner or other social events. And we take theirs more seriously too. One of the most touching moments of our wedding for me, though, was looking at all of our friends and family gathered around us during the ceremony, and later at the reception, and just feeling an immense love welling up inside me, knowing that H. and I were supported in our decision to connect our lives and our communities.

Thinking about and planning my big next year (and this is where the New Year's resolutions come in). I am leaving my job in March 2009, and planning to launch my consulting business for real. Which means, hopefully, less actual hours of work, but hopefully more income, as consulting fees can pay a lot more than a full-time job at a small nonprofit. I'm also really looking forward to picking and choosing projects that I really want to work on (if I can, which everyone tells me should not be a problem, given the dearth of fundraisers of color in the world and the endless number of groups who need us). Lastly, I am planning to take on two major creative endeavors in 2009, which this extra time will allow me to do: 1) Have a baby (nope, not pregnant yet, but will be working on it), and 2) Get some serious writing time in. It's been several years since I've really delved into my writing, and I realized this past year that the main impediment to my progress is just TIME. Such a simple thing, but one of the toughest things to carve out for yourself in the midst of full-time employment, taking care of your own household, family obligations, life in general.

So my resolutions for 2009? Pretty simple: Do what I want to do, do what I love, live my life to the fullest. Spend time with people I care about and who nurture and support the best of who I am, and vice versa. Trust in the Spirit/God/Orishas/Universe/Creator/whatever-you-want-to-call-It to guide me and take care of me. Know that I have the talent, perseverence, courage, contacts, intelligence, determination and skill to not only survive in this harsh economic climate, but to THRIVE. If there is one word that I want to bring with me into 2009, and to cling to like my life depended on it (which in a way, it does) it's that one: thrive, thrive, THRIVE.

Rooms of Our Own

Was roaming around the blogosphere and visited fellow writer Claire Light's blog, whose recent post featured an image of her writing 'room'--a sort of vertical desk/storage unit in her bedroom, and a link to a photo-essay by Eamonn McCabe of famous writers' rooms.

I'm not one who's easily starstruck, except for when I'm around writers I admire. So seeing the inner sanctums of writers like Hanif Kureishi is, like, weird geeky porn for me. It's interesting that I stumbled upon this piece at a time that I've been contemplating what to do with the space that's supposed to be my office/writing space--a large closet with window under which I've placed a small desk for my laptop and a few books. For the past year or so it's turned into a junk closet for the most part, with piles of unfiled papers and old posters and magazines strewn about inside. But as I look to 2009 as a major writing year for me (hopefully), I know I need to figure out how to clear this space and make it suitable for habitation once again.

Now, inspired by the images spartan office of V.S. Naipaul and the crimson walls of A.L. Kennedy's space, I vow to at least dig a tunnel through the books, files, and office supplies so that I can make sense of my office and what it can become. Wish me luck.

List: 2008 Retrospective, Part I (?)

I've written enough 'part I' blog posts with no subsequent 'part II's or 'III's that I'll leave the question mark in the headline above. it's that time of year, though, to reflect on the past twelve months, to sift through all the accomplishments, unmet goals, surprises, disappointments, joys, sorrows and stories of my 2008 experience. All I can say is, 'What a year!' On so many levels, this year surpassed all of my wildest imaginings, and challenged me in ways that I wasn't expecting (and I like to think I anticipate any possible curve ball life can throw at me--I'm a Capricorn and an uber-planner, after all). A few things to start my review list, in no particular chronology or order of importance:

Getting married to my partner of six-plus years, Henry. This was one of the three most defining acts of my year. I mean, I started a whole 'nother blog about it, which actually got more hits at times than this one, thanks to selective linking to sites like Indie Bride and other alt.bride sites.

That guy who's President-Elect, and the movement that put him in power. Sometimes I still can't believe we have a Black President (or that we'll have one come 1/20/09. Never in a million years could I imagine a national (nay, international) grassroots movement electing a former community organizer as President of the United States. Un-frickin-believable, and so beautiful at the same time.

Deciding to leave my job, which I had been planning on and contemplating for a few months already, after my ex-boss left the organization to work for the new Speaker of the California Assembly, the Honorable Karen Bass. The first African-American woman (and really, the first woman) in this high-powered post, Speaker Bass is a political star on the rise, and although it was challenging to take over the helm of my organization after our ED left to work for her, it was definitely an important move and in the end I think worked out well for everyone. I am transitioning out of my interim co-director job at CFJ in March to work part-time, do fundraising consulting and spend more time on my writing and (hopefully) having a baby!

That's the Big Three events of 2008 for me. More to come, I promise. (?) ((;)

Longing for a Long Time Ago

H. and I unwittingly took a quick, sentimental stroll down nostalgia lane yesterday--first visiting the old-school Yellow Submarine Sandwich shop in the Sunset on Irving, then driving through the Excelsior and Portola Valley neighborhoods--a time warp if there ever was one, where the 'old San Francisco of the 1970s and '80s is still apparent in the old-school storefronts, decidedly UN-gentro potholed streets, and working class residents--then finally, watching 'Milk', the Gus Van Sant-directed film about the late, great San Francisco gay supervisor of the same name.

H. and I both grew up in the Bay Area--a somewhat rare status in our particular circle of friends, and seemingly an increasingly rare status for people living in the Bay Area overall. Call it gentrification, call it 'progress', call it the result of larger social and economic forces pushing people in and out of certain cities, the Bay Area and San Francisco especially is definitely not what it was when we were growing up here in the 1970s. Some elements of it have not changed, that's for sure--it's still a progressive bubble, sheltered in many ways from the cruel cold conservative world outside the way our many microclimates seem to exist in isolation from each other. But many things have changed, and seeing so many reminders of the San Francisco of our childhood yesterday made me long for a simpler, less hectic and, yes, more beautiful City by the Bay. When....

...the I-Hotel and Manilatown were still around, Manongs played pool on Kearny Street and Mabuhay Gardens hosted punk shows a few blocks away on Broadway.

...public schools were still decent, and kids of all colors and income backgrounds learned together in schools that looked like the neighborhoods they were in.

...sandwiches cost $1.50 and you could get a good meal for less than $3 (as evidenced by the old, hand-painted price sign at Yellow Submarine).

...the Fillmore hadn't been 'redeveloped' yet, and Black people could still call it their neighborhood, instead of being subjected to newbie rich white folks moving in and calling it the 'new Fillmore' or 'lower Pacific Heights'.

...places like Art's Soul Food, a Southern food joint run by Filipinos near the Castro, were still around and thriving.

...you could walk around town or take the bus as a little kid and not be afraid, or be tailed by a security guard who thinks you're going to steal something.

...blue collar, working class folks of color could actually afford to rent OR own in the City, and didn't have to leave the neighborhoods they or their kids had grown up in to make room for arrogant, know-nothing white kids from the suburbs who just want to party.

...Candlestick didn't have an odious corporate name (which I refuse to even acknowledge here, it'll always be Candlestick for true Bay Area folks).

Yes, I know I'm romanticizing the era, and I never experienced some of the things I listed above (I was way too young to go to the Mabuhay Gardens, for example), and maybe this nostalgia stems from the bittersweet feeling the winter holidays always gives me, but I can't help but long for a time when the City looked more like the people who actually made it great, instead of a playground for people who have a selective memory about its history, and a money-machine for those whose main goal is life is the accumulation of wealth. San Francisco, as the Harvey Milk film reminded me, was made great by the grittiness, soul, hard work and loving sacrifice of an at times painfully diverse resident population, the awesome mix of which contributed to the City's once-thriving and amazing arts and political scenes. Of course, the City is still a cool place in many ways, but a much more homogenized and segregated place and fearful place.

I wonder if we couldn't all do well to look back into the past of our respective cities and learn a few lessons from it. Or at the very least, fondly remember a time when some things were just a little sweeter.