I wasn't going to write about this

My roommate just happened to be on CNN.com when news of Heath Ledger's death was announced. I wasn't planning to write anything about him on the blog since it's not like I know him or have anything in common with him (the closest I come to that is being born 15 days after him in 1979). Then I read a very nice article about Ledger in the New York Times that ended with the following two paragraphs.

In a recent interview with WJW-TV, a Fox affiliate in Cleveland, about "I’m Not There," in which he was one of several actors playing the music legend Bob Dylan, Mr. Ledger struck a philosophical note. He responded to a question about how having a child had changed his life:

"You’re forced into, kind of, respecting yourself more," he said. "You learn more about yourself through your child, I guess. I think you also look at death differently. It’s like a Catch-22: I feel good about dying now because I feel like I’m alive in her, you know, but at the same hand, you don’t want to die because you want to be around for the rest of her life."

Now that's tragic.

Are you articulate?

My friend Lana just sent me a fabulous NY Times article called "The Racial Politics of Speaking Well." I'm having trouble articulating* my points about Lynette Clemetson's piece but I think she sums things up pretty well with her tag line: "Maybe it’s time for a national therapy session on the word 'articulate.'" I strongly encourage you to read the article and will leave you with this excerpt:

"The word perfectly conveys, to quote George Bush, the soft bigotry of low expectations. It literally comes down to that. When people say it, what they are really saying is that someone is articulate ... for a black person."
~Anna Perez, former deputy assistant to President Bush and communications counselor to Condoleezza Rice when she was national security adviser.

* Ha!

This makes me want to jump on a plane to L.A.

According to the New York Times article "Ceci N'est Pas Magritte, but His Outlook Is Compatibly Surreal", sixty-eight of Magritte's paintings are currently on display at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. I absolutely love Magritte and think he is one of the greatest painters ever. While I have already seen a show with many of Magritte's works, the thing that makes this particular exhibition so neat is the man you see in the picture here. That man is John Baldessari, a "popular California artist," and that man designed the exhibition. Look at those puffy little clouds on the ground. Now don't those make you want to jump on a plane to L.A. too? Totally seems worth it to me. If only I had the time.

For Elise on Magritte and her top ten artists of all time, check out Magritte rocks my world.

Unschooled

Back in college, I was a big fan of the movie Higher Learning. At the end of the film, just before the credits, the screen went black and one word appeared in big white letters: "Unlearn." Though the movie was set in college, it was mostly about race relations and what the director wanted us to unlearn was our prejudice.

Well, now it really is about unlearning what we have learned in school. There is a new movement called unschooling. The first I'd heard about it was in an article from today's New York Times. "Home Schoolers Content to Take Children’s Lead" didn't provide much information on unschooling but it piqued my interest. So, I headed to the most trusted source of information on the web... Wikipedia. Here's how Wikipedia defines unschooling:

Unschooling is a form of education in which learning is based on the student's interests, needs, and goals. It may be alternatively referred to as natural learning, child-led learning, discovery learning, autodidactic learning, or child-directed learning.

Unschooling contrasts with homeschooling in that the student's education is not directed by a teacher and curriculum. Although an unschooling student may choose to make use of teachers or curricula, s/he is ultimately in control of his/her own education. The student chooses how, when, why, and what s/he learns. Parents who unschool their children act as "facilitators" and provide a wide range of resources, instruction and support. Unschooling begins with a child's natural curiosity and expands from there, as an extension of his/her own personal interests and needs.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. How can a child know what he wants to learn when he hasn't experienced very much? I was and still am a slow reader. I wonder, had I not been forced to read in school, would I have spent my life avoiding all unnecessary reading? If so, I would have missed out on so many wonderful stories, so many ideas that have changed the way I think. I like the idea that unschooling creates a love of learning but I worry that it limits children too much. Currently, I am no expert on schooling or unschooling so my opinion is just that. If I do end up in education again,* I'll revisit this topic... because in five to ten years, Where is my mind? will still be going strong!


*Magic 8-ball says: Signs point to yes.

Boo/ In remembrance

I'm home sick. Actually, oddly enough, I needed this; I needed a break but, because of the type of person I am, I have trouble taking mental health days. I guess this is my body's way of telling me I need to rest.

Why do I need a break so much? Well, for one, I haven't really had a long vacation since I went to Mexico last January. And, two, my grandmother died last week.

I shouldn't call her grandmother, though. She always hated that. Despite the fact that she was 81, she considered "grandmother" a term for old women, and she was not old. I didn't even know that she was 81 until the funeral this past Saturday. Hilva, which is what I do (did) call her, was not actually my real grandmother, but rather my step-grandmother. When her daughter first married my father, I thought that Hilva hated me because I was proof of my father's previous marriage. Years later, I felt quite silly for ever having thought this, especially when I learned that Hilva, herself, had two, or quite possibly three, marriages.

In college, I took two summer internships in New York City and had the privilege of living with and getting to know Hilva. We were perfect roommates; we dined together and gossiped together, but we both were allowed our own space. Even though we were not related through blood, she always treated me like we were. And even though she was wealthy and I never felt like I had the right clothes or the right manners for our outings, she was always pleased with my company.

I know that Hilva, like all people, had her bad side, but she rarely showed it to me. In all of the time that I spent with her over the past six years, I only remember seeing her behave badly twice, and neither time had anything to do with me. I think that we got along because we clicked so well (according to an online personality test I once made her take, we were 100% compatible) and I could read her well. I liked our status quo, and, luckily, I never had to work too hard to maintain it.

Hilva was a very generous and loving person. She welcomed my friends and me into her homes and into her restaurants. She told me fabulous stories about her life and her loves. I will miss her very much, but as her daughter (my step-mother) said this week, "Thank goodness she died before inauguration day." Hilva was a huge democratic supporter and she really wanted John Kerry and John Edwards to win last November. George Bush's election wore on her.

Because today is inauguration day, I am writing this for Hilva. She would have hated today and I'm sure she would have called our house several times to complain. I had planned to protest the inauguration in her honor, but my sickness will probably prevent that. Instead I write this to balance out the day. Some fond remembrances on such a negative day must count for something.

Hilva, I love you and I wish you well wherever you are.

Music is my first name

Back in my "I wanna work for a record company" days, I was fortunate enough to meet Cam'ron. He was nice. He breezed into Epic's video production department with his posse, hit on the other intern (who I'd just like to mention was totally not as cute as me), talked to one of the executives, and left.

Why am I writing this? Because there is a great article in, you guessed it, The NY times today. Here are some choice paragraphs from Kelefa Sanneh's The Reesey-Piecey Man Cometh (and Rhymeith):

In 1998, years before it became obvious that he was one of hip-hop's most appealing surrealists, Cam'ron was just another aspiring star, content to hold down the world's most glamorous job: New York rapper....

The process was simple: a couple of hit records, a couple of memorable videos, and suddenly you were richer than God and nearly as omnipresent. It was a time when even the most extravagant hip-hop boasts could pass for predictions: O.K., maybe you didn't actually own an island, but you were so close.

This gilded age didn't deliver on its promises. New York rappers discovered that music-industry success was nearly as demeaning as failure: it's hard to look cool when you're working overtime to satisfy radio stations and club D.J.'s, and it's hard to maintain your king-of-the-world image when you're being outsold by boy bands.

Ahhh, the joy of show business.

Gael García Bernal: Just Another Homeless Young Star

There have been actors from Mexico in the recent past that have made it in the U.S. Of course, right now I can only think of Salma Hayek, but I'm sure there are others. Still, the rise of Gael García Bernal is pretty exciting. I especially love that he's not going to move to the U.S. just because he's getting famous. Sounds just like my Mexican friends who are okay financially in Mexico; who wants to leave a great place like Mexico for the U.S. if you can survive there? This post was inspired by The New York Times article with the same title as this blog installment (I give credit where credit is due). It's a great article, but you'll probably have to sign up with NYTimes online to read it... but, really, you should already be signed up with NYTimes.com... it's a good place to get with it and it's free.

Nader and this whole electoral college thing

In 2000, I voted for Nader but I will not be making that mistake again. Still, there will be people who choose Nader over Kerry in this year's election. I just read an interesting Op-Ed in the New York Times that discusses a potential way that Nader could get popular votes in a particular area while still allowing Kerry to get the electoral votes. If you would like to read more about this, read 2-for-1 Voting.

I love New York

Sorry for the silence. I ran off to NYC on Wednesday without saying goodbye. God, I love New York. So much so that I almost bought one of those "I (heart) New York" t-shirts. My trip began with a train ride. My companion was Jean Rique, a friend from high school who I hadn't seen in about a year. I wasn't really sure how we'd get along after so many years, but we had a great time.

Once we got to NYC, I cabbed it over to my grandma's and got dolled up for dinner. Dinner was fabulous and my flirtation with the waiter, which has been going on for years, ended with me giving him my number. He never did call, but getting asked out is my favorite part of the whole dating ritual so I was satisfied.

Anyway, after dinner I ran back to grandma's to change out of my dress and into my cargo pants. There were no available cabs in sight so I walked the avenues and streets to the nearest subway. Once I got to the East Village, I met up with Lynn and Christina, two lovely ladies from college who I'd barely seen since August. We decided that the night's festivities would not be complete without a trip to Meow Mix, a fabulous lesbian dance club. The music was great and the only person who grabbed my ass was Lynn.

So that was Wednesday. Thursday was pretty nondescript, although there was a photo of my dad in the business section of the NY Times. Friday, my grandma and I went to see Calendar Girls and, believe it or not, I liked it more than her. After that I scoured the city for kangaROOS with my friend Ethan, a wonderful guy I met in Mexico. Sadly, I learned that ROOS, while reminding me of my childhood, are the most uncomfortable shoes ever. Lucky for me, Ethan took me to this great shwarma place, Village Shwarma, and all my sadness left me.

Once we were full, Ethan and I went to Cosi to find Prince, my only born and bred NYC friend. Just after we showed up at Cosi, two British guys Prince had met the night before at Thirsty Scholar showed up. Next thing I know, Ethan and I are drinking beer with Andy and John from Manchester. Ethan got tired and skipped out, leaving us with the tab (he apologized later but it never was a big deal).

Prince wasn't off work until 1 am so Andy, John, and I decided to have some fun. We headed over to Liquids, a chill lounge in the East Village. Once we got there we learned that Liquids had been replaced by Jack Rabbit Slim's, a dance club with pole-dancers and scantily-clad bartenders. I've met my share of bad British dancers so I was pleasantly surprised by the moves my new friends had. Plus, they were great guys. Andy even told me I reminded him of Faith from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That boy knows the way to my heart. After that and the fun magic tricks he was doing for me, I could have kissed him... all except that he was so drunk that there would have been no fun in that. Prince showed up and we danced some more. Prince is my favorite dance partner ever. We danced so well together that Andy asked how we did what we did; he said we fit together perfectly (Man, I loved this boy. Too bad he lives in Manchester.).

After a bit more dancing, the crowd started to disappear so we headed to 119 to meet up with some of Prince's friends. While it was a chill bar, I was ready to go home. I rebuffed some advances from two guys who turned out to be roommates and then, when everyone finally decided to call it a night, I offered to share a cab with the British boys. When we got to their street, Andy turned to John and said, "So how much do you think our guide is worth? 15?" I insisted that I would pay for the cab but finally took $10 from them when I saw the cabbie was getting impatient. In the last few minutes to my street, the cab driver said that those two men seemed very nice but that I am beautiful and attractive so I need to watch out for strangers. I assured him that I normally do not pick up random men in NYC, wished him a happy New Year and walked into my building. 4:25 am. A day well-lived.

P.S. Sally, I totally forgot to get your number before I left for NYC and I didn't have e-mail up there. I'd love to see you next time I'm up.

Who Moved My Cheese?

Every once in a while I feel the urge to read a self-help book. A few weeks ago, a woman at work handed me Spencer Johnson's Who Moved My Cheese?: An A-Mazing Way to Deal with Change in Your Work and in Your Life. At first glance, the book, with its large print and ridiculously simple language, looks like a waste of time. Despite its resemblance to a bad children's book, Cheese actually makes some good points.

Cheese tells the story of four characters, two of whom are mice and two of whom are little people, who run through a maze to find cheese. Once they find some cheese, the little people get used to the comfort of knowing that the cheese will always be there. They begin to feel entitled to the cheese. Everyday as the mice and the little people eat, the amount of cheese dwindles. While the mice take note of this, the little people do not. One day, the cheese supply runs out. The mice, who have been aware of the possibility of the cheese running out, immediately run back into the maze to find new cheese. Meanwhile, the little men are shocked; they sit around where the cheese used to be and try to figure out who moved their cheese. The men return day after day to the same location and grumble about the cheese's disappearance. The mice never return to the location of the old cheese, and after some time, they come across a new stash of cheese. The men continue to wait in the same place, hoping that the cheese will magically reappear. Eventually one of the little men works up the courage to go out into the maze again. After several days in the maze, he comes upon new cheese. His whole experience teaches him several lessons:

1. Don't take things in your life for granted. Don't become too comfortable. Watch the little changes in your situation so that you are not surprised by big changes.

2. Don't become set in your ways. Accept that things might change and learn from your mistakes.

3. Don't let fear of the unknown prevent you from trying new things.

I understand why Cheese, which was on The New York Times' bestseller list for a while, is such a popular book. It's easy enough for everyone to understand but makes many good points.

And now it's time for my characteristic jab at the music industry. I can't help but wonder if any record company executives have read this book. The record companies are so set in their old ways. They tried to resist change. They complained about mp3s and did their best to prevent the spread of mp3s. They ignored their customers and the new possibilities for music. Now, they are finally realizing that things are not going to back to "normal," and they're scrambling to catch up. If only someone in that industry had had the nerve to move with the change instead of fighting it. It will be interesting to see what happens next.

Injustice

I never thought much about illegal immigrants or the U.S.'s immigration laws until I lived in Mexico. There I shared an apartment with a woman who had made a documentary on the importance of illegal immigrants to the growth of Austin, Texas. I also had many conversations with Mexicans and other foreigners about immigration. Trouble is, I still don't know where I stand.

Part of me believes that we should allow more foreigners to come to our country legally. Many are working here already in bad situations and for ridiculously low pay. Sometimes these workers don't get paid at all, but they can't do anything about it because ratting out their employers would probably end in the workers' deportation. Making these foreigners legal would probably help the government to find and fix non-law-abiding businesses. Other benefits would come from the legalization of these people. They would, hopefully, earn better wages and work more humane hours. Their children would legally be allowed to go to public school. I believe these things make for less crime and better neighborhoods.

The other part of me believes that making U.S. immigration laws more lax could be detrimental. After all, who decides which immigrants are allowed in? There are people from all over the world who want to live in the U.S. Allowing everyone who wanted to come and work into the country would probably increase the demand for jobs and housing so much that wages would drop as low as possible while housing prices would soar. This could lead to unemployment and homelessness, not to mention even more overcrowding in public schools.

I know my above discussion is simplistic and not based on any real facts. Immigration is a serious problem and there is probably no good solution to it. I wrote this post because I just read an article in The New York Times entitled, Cleaner at Wal-Mart Tells of Few Breaks and Low Pay. The article comes two days after an enormous raid on Wal-Mart identified 250 janitors as illegal immigrants. Wal-Mart's corporate office claims it didn't know that many of its janitors, most of whom work for contractors and not Wal-Mart itself, were illegal. Yeah right. People at Wal-Mart must have known. As Mr. Zavala says, "Deep in their minds, of course the store managers knew it. The other guys from the crew didn't speak one word of English. Of course they knew it, but if you asked them, they'll say `we thought they were citizens or residents.' " The part of the article that really rattled me was this:

Mr. Zavala said the contractor that he and Eunice, his wife, worked for paid them $400 a week each for working 56 hours. That would come to $6.25 an hour if time and a half overtime is included for all hours worked in excess of 40.

"We don't know nothing about days off," said Mr. Zavala, whose hometown is Mexico City. "We don't know nothing about nights off, we don't know health insurance, we don't know life insurance, and we don't know anything about 401(k) plans."

He said that when he was arrested and taken to a detention center in Newark, immigration officials mocked him for taking a job that paid so little in a state where rents and living expenses are so high. He said that in his 16 months as a cleaner at Wal-Mart, he was given only two nights off.

What the hell were immigration officials mocking him for? Mr. Zavala's story sounds like a classic illegal immigrant story to me. He and his wife are working their butts off to support their family (they have three children), and they don't exactly have many options when it comes to work. Immigration officials mocking illegal immigrants serves no purpose. Officials should be working to help the situation and not make it worse. After all, even though illegal immigrants are breaking the law, most of them are normal people trying to make a better life for themselves and their families. Illegally getting to and living in a foreign country is not easy; it takes a lot of inner strength. I hope that if I am ever in a permanently trying situation, I will have the courage to change that situation no matter what, just like so many illegal immigrants do everyday.

MP3s and the music industry

Today in the online edition of The New York Times, the paper highlighted file-swapping in its Readers' Opinions section. In the section, entitled Steal This Music?, some NY Times worker has gone through the Technology in the News forum, taken soundbites on the current music industry controversy, and put them onto less than two online pages.

Here is my favorite quote (especially the last sentence):
Westernblot: "I am a recording artist, with several dozen albums in print (and, of course, in discount bins collecting dust in used CD stores). I am thrilled when someone downloads my music, and not at all appalled . . . That the R.I.A.A. and their pals ultimately have no control over Internet technologies galls them no end. Can they sue 70,000,000 Americans? Jail a tenth of them? A hundredth of them? At least the penal industry looks to be a solid growth sector in the years to come . . . Neither downloading nor hometaping will kill music. Obsolete business paradigms and wrong-headed, heavy-handed practices are doing the job quite nicely."

Home economics

I just read a great Op-Ed in The New York Times about bringing back home economics. In "Food for Thought (and for Credit)", Jennifer Grossman opines that a good way to help combat the growing (ha!) obesity in the United States is to re-vamp Home Economics.

I, for one, think this is a great idea. I have never been close to obese or even overweight but I have realized since college that I do not know many basic, everyday skills. My cooking is abysmal, my ability to (poorly) hand-wash clothes is a self-taught skill from living in Mexico, and my sewing is so painful that I dread re-attaching newly fallen buttons.

So I say, BRING BACK HOME EC!!!! Make it mandatory for all high school students. Teach proper nutrition and basic cooking. Teach hand-washing and sewing. Teach home finance and basic ways to fix common things. Teach, teach, teach!