Love’s Labour Lost: A Reflection

While it is July now, it was not the hottest of days, since there had been enough cloud coverage to block at least some of the intense Florida sun. Still, they kept the air conditioning on rather than roll down the windows on the drive south. Rather than getting on the highway, they were stuck taking State Route 1. Though it was a more direct route, it was slower than driving along the highway, as they passed through shopping plazas and medical centers and car dealerships that now lined the route.  

I looked forward to the play perhaps more than would seem reasonable, given it was just a small local production, hardly anything with a large budget or A-List casting. However, sitting out on the lawn, beer in hand, losing myself in the production for a few hours in good company was always a pleasure. Simply seeing a movie paled in comparison to a live performance; though film may have more special effects, and they can reshoot as many times as they want to make each scene as perfect as possible, and have more freedom in setting, there is something about a traditional play that makes it more powerful, more capable of connecting us to those who experience it with us.

After a quick meal at a local Panera, we arrived and found parking easily enough. We crossed over A1A, the road that most closely hugged the coast, and made our way to the amphitheater. Already, the section closest to the stage was claimed by a variety of patrons. There were family with large picnic coolers and foldable camping chairs, there were young adults with blankets and wine or beer, there were older retired couples settled in, some with light jackets despite the warmth of the evening. As they searched for a place to declare their own, they passed the “Wishing Will” where patrons could donate to the company. Coming for all around us was the sound of light, joyful conversations, and in the background there was instrumental music that was reminiscent of a time long ago- simple melodies plucked on mandolins or other similar instruments. Overhead there were some clouds that lingered from earlier showers, but there was no real threat of rain, there was a pleasant scent in the air that spoke vaguely of the sea, evaporating rain, and healthy grass.

We quickly choose a spot off the the side where we would have a bit better of a view. Nicole announced she needed to use the restroom and smoke a cigarette, and I agreed to join her.  We meandered down the path towards where the restrooms were, and discussed various Shakespeare works, noting which we were more familiar with and the ones we hadn’t yet been able to read. She would be teaching Macbeth this upcoming school year, which she had to read and design lessons for, and I knew I would be teaching either Othello or Hamlet myself. We shared old memories about plays from the past and adventures from high school and college, some of them long forgotten and brought back to memory.

We didn’t have to wait very long for the play to begin; I had read the synopsis online prior to coming, of course, and vaguely recalled reading at least some parts of it at some point long ago. As it started, the sky had darkened just enough to allow the lights to accent the stage in the appropriate way. There was no overly dramatic effects created by the lighting; it simply accented the actors so the audience could better follow the action and dialogue. One of the opening scenes features Don Armado, the lively Spanish clown character who attempts to woo and court a “loose woman”. Though some moments were difficult to understand, we all were immediately absorbed in the humor and laughing along.

Local productions may not have have a “quality” of a Broadway play, but they have charm and character. They are relatively average people transformed from their standard, daily jobs, and becoming something else, even if only for a few hours. Yes, they have rehearsed for hours and studied drama in some way before, and while they are actors in every respect, they have not been “polished”. It is evident that they are doing it merely for the enjoyment of it, because it is something they love, rather than a formal job they are being paid for.

D. had never been to a play before, so I was a bit anxious to see his reaction. What if he hated it, and had a miserable time? But I could immediately tell he was enjoying it, as he laughed genuinely at the appropriate times. Looking in his eyes, he was completely immersed in the world of the play, a feeling I knew so well. Slowly sipping our beers (not chugging, of course, but drinking them slowly to appreciate and savor them), we wrapped our arms around each other, letting ourselves luxuriate in that time-worn comfort of the physical presence and nearness of the one you love.

After getting so enwrapped in the story, the quick dialogue and turns of phrases, the characters who were both cunning and oblivious, the subtly included deep truths about our human experience and love that transcend the centuries. How we deceive ourselves and are deceived by others, believing we are being clever or that we will be able to better accomplish our goals this way. And in the end… Well. Perhaps we can never be prepared for what life will bring us, but we can press forward regardless, and somewhere along the way we can find that joy and love that we deserve. I’m not a Shakespeare scholar, though. To some extent, we see what we wish to see in any text or performance, and our own biases and our own knowledge changes how we see certain characters and interpret difference actions. But back to the real focus of this piece.

The final scene is brief but substantially powerful, and the whole audience gave a short standing ovation, and we began packing up, tossing our beer bottles in the nearby garbage can. We were smiling and remained lost in the world of the play for a few moments longer. During the car ride home, we had a rambling conversation, one of those conversations that jumps from topic to topic naturally without any clear intent or clear logic. At moments, I began to drift in and out of sleep, my sandals off and lulled by the motion of the vehicle. D. and I dropped Nicole off at her apartment and continued north towards our own home. Sometimes I was still struck by the fact that it was our home; that we truly did purchase a house together, that we were somehow establishing ourselves as adults and committing to a future, however vague or susceptible to change it might be.

We remember big events and moment: weddings, graduations, the start of a new job, moving, starting at a new school, a major accident or illness. Sometimes all we need, though, are these uncomplicated moments of companionship, of joy and hope, of being completely present in the moment and allowing the past and future to be insignificant and discarded, if only for a temporary amount of time.

Despite the constant pressures we have to always be doing something more, and despite the dangers our country faces daily under the current conditions, I hope that we all get to have these brief reprieves that allow us to recenter and maintain perspective, and serve as reminders of why we must never lose hope. We keep fighting, keep trudging forward and work through our daily challenges for these fleeting moments that provide us with a great sense of purpose, and may us connected to those we care about. Certainly, we will remember the moment we first saw the Grand Canyon, but we are shaped more by sharing apparently incidental, minor events such as a car ride down the coast and a local play that was highly entertaining.

We didn’t crawl into bed until near midnight, after walking the dog and washing up upon arriving home, which was far later than our usual time, but we did not feel any resentment about this. We curled up next to each other, arms entwined, and promptly fell into a deep, contented sleep.


Preserving the First Amendment

From an early age, American children are taught that our country was founded on the concept of freedom of religion: the pilgrims wanted to escape the tyranny of English, where the King would not allow them to practice their faith as they desired, but instead insisted that they follow the Church of England. While the Church of England served many political purposes, Puritans and Lutherans, among other sects of the Christian religion then forming in England, each had their own beliefs about how to show their devotion to God. They were critical of the practices of the Church of England, were persecuted extensively, and finally driven to seek refuge in another county after the discovery of America. Many believed in the New World they could practice their religion as they saw fit, and that government would play a limited role in the practices of the church.

This does not mean that community members were free to reject the dominant religious beliefs in their community, or that laws were not designed around the church’s decrees. Everyone was still expected to demonstrate their devotion to their faith, and abide by Christian law.

Yet, written into the founding documents of our country, in the First Amendment of the Constitution, is the assurance for freedom of religion. From this came the foundation of the concept of separation of Church and State: the belief that government should be separate from religion, and that no laws enacted or enforced should be influenced by religious beliefs, and that the government should not financially support any religious entities. How strictly or loosely this has been followed and interpreted varies throughout our nation’s history, like most regulations, and will most likely be a controversial area for years to come. Despite the challenges faced in maintaining a separation of church and state, considering American cultural foundations and tendancies, the First Amendment has been a guideline for many policies and practices, and it has been largely accepted that the government will neither support nor be directly influenced by any religious organization or congregation. This would include providing funding to religious organizations, creating policy that would discriminate against the beliefs of a particular religion or enforce the teachings of a certain religion, or allowing religious organizations to directly contribute to politicians or political groups, thus influencing the political agenda. In particular, schools have been a highly contested area where the government has often restricted funding to schools affiliated with religious teachings. Schools funded with public monies are required to maintain a stance of tolerance and refrain from lessons that explicitly promote religious doctrine.

There have been long standing debates about how much authority the federal government has over public education, as it has largely been designated to individual states to oversee their own schools. Through providing some funding, however, the federal government has been able to exercise some authority over states, and become involved in some significant decisions relating to the separation of church and state, around such topics as the teaching of creationism, for example. The power of the federal government to dictate state policies relating to education is still minimal, however, and this has been made even more prominent under Trump’s administration.

Since the election of Trump and the appointment of Betsy DeVos as to the Department of Education, much attention has been given to the issue of the privatization of education: using school vouchers to promote “school choice”, giving students “more options”, creating competition to thus inspire school to improve to attract more students, and promote businesses who can better “meet the needs” of students. Theoretically, it might make some sense. Certainly, students should be able to attend qualities schools that can meet their needs. Yet what does this cost the majority of students?

Beyond the debate over support of public versus private schools, however, is one that comes right back to the separation church and state: DeVos and her supporters claim they wish to provide more freedom to the state and local governments for controlling school curriculum, policies, and funding. By reducing federal involvement, state and local governments can design policies they deem “appropriate” and quite simply ignore federal mandates. This provides them the freedom to implement policies which require teachers to present certain “scientific” views such as creationism. It also, in a recent decisions, has allowed funds to be used by religious schools- the Supreme Court ruling of Trinity Luthern vs. the State of Mississippi. Voucher money- money coming from federal funds- can also be used for students to attend religious schools. A bill recently passed in Kentucky will allow for teachers to have “Bible literacy classes. A “Bible literacy” course may be beneficial for understanding different aspects of the religion, but claiming, as Govenor Bevin does, that it is beneficial because “the Bible has a lot of wisdom in it”, seems to inherently promote Christian doctrine over than that of other religions. There seems to be no mention of classes for Koran literacy or Torah literacy.

Besides Betsy DeVos’s complex connections with many different organizations, including a number of religious ones and strongly conservative ones, other members new to the Department of Education have strong religious connections and support policies heavily influenced by their own personal beliefs, such as the Evangelical leader Jerry Falwell , who will seek to further limit regulations and policies relating to sexual assault on college/ university campuses. Historians and politicians have noted that history goes through periods of conservatism and liberalism, much like a pendulum swinging, and it is clear which direction the American pendulum is currently swinging. In some respects, it is strongly tied to financial and economical reasons- who has money, generally has the most power, and certainly these conservative and Christian organizations are utilizing their economic power, and will begin dictating policies according to their beliefs rather than through objective judgements and compromise with other perspectives and beliefs. To claim that the millions of dollars the DeVos family has invested in various organizations has no influence on her decisions and policy choices can not make any logical sense, but that is another issue separate from the one relating to the separation of Church and State.

Are we simply redefining the separation of church and state, or ignoring it and accepting that as a “Christian” nation religion and politics will inevitably be mixed? Is the idea of freedom of religion- of the government refraining from dictating what its citizens should believe or what faith they must practice- something fading into the past once again?

An argument commonly heard against attempts to enforce the principle of freedom of religion is that a particular group is being discriminated against for trying to “express their views”. This misses the primary point of freedom of speech as well as freedom of religion: that everyone have an equal right to express their views, and that others do not attempt to force their views upon others. It means that one particular view is held in higher regard or given any additional privileges that another does not have.

On the surface, this may seem like a minimal threat, and one can argue that students are “free” to go to any school they desire, that they are not being forced to attend a strictly religious institution, and that they are merely being presented with the concept of creationism but not required to “believe” it necessarily. Any mixing of religion and government, however, become complicated, and clear lines must be drawn as to what is acceptable and what defines a practice as being one that violates the separation of church and state. If it is not clearly established, nearly all practices could then be considered acceptable.

Why should we be concerned with this, anyway? How is providing funding to religious school damaging?

When funding is being removed from public schools, that provide the majority of the population with an education, it becomes a problem. When programs that support students with disabilities and after school programs that provide support to students in need are being defunded, it becomes a problem. My concern is less about students being “converted” to a certain belief as it is a concern for the overall quality of education that the average student receives. My concern is for the increasing economic gaps between lower and upper classes, which can only be remedied through educational effort. 

We need informed citizens, and we need those in government roles making responsible, balanced decisions that are based on reasonable facts and evidence, as well as the wishes of the majority of the public. Regardless of your own personal religious beliefs, they do not have a place in education, or in political decisions. Policies can not be formed around only one group’s faith or sense of morality- that is the purpose of the separation of church and state, so that all beliefs are valued and accepted. Education should only be centered around critical skills, and proven facts. Certainly, our students need to understand the variety of religious background that impact our culture, and the culture of their fellow students, but understand does not mean incorporating curriculum only based on one religious perspective, nor does it mean taking away funding from public schools to then provide religious schools with additional funding. Yes, parents should have the right to educate their children according to their religion should they choose to do so, but this does not mean that the public needs to pay for it or that other students should be required to have the same curriculum if it does not align with their personal beliefs or their family’s beliefs. There is a great difference between tolerance and understanding, and presenting multiple perspectives, and commending one set of values and beliefs over others.

I did not imagine myself becoming an educator growing up, but I knew I had a passion for reading and writing, and wanted to do something that would allow me to share that with others. As an educator, I hope to challenge and inspire my students, and to help them grow into compassionate, knowledgeable, and analytical individuals. Being able to think critically about the world around you and engaging in discussions that allow you to appreciate a variety of values and beliefs is essential for not only being successful but also for being able to understand and respect others. As educators, we simply want our students to have futures with potential, and for them to be well informed. We can not progress if education does not allow for students to be exposed to a variety of beliefs, and they also can not be successful if teachers do not have the funding and resources to design lessons that will allow their students to practice skills and have access to diverse content and materials. “School choice” benefits only those in power, and those who stand to benefit financially, as many studies have proven. Students will show academic gains when teachers have proper training and access to resources. Reducing more and more funding from public schools is not going improve the system. Everyone recognizes that there need to be significant changes made to some practices and policies under the current system of public education, but simply taking money away and demanding better performance without real support is simply not a solution. If we want to have well-educated and capable students, we need to demand great support of public education and focus on real practices and policies that can benefit students rather than trying to claim privatization will fix everything.

Education is hardly the only area that is being affected by the new administration- woman’s right and the rights of LGBTQ individuals are also highly at risk, and there have already been many steps taken to reduce the freedoms of these citizens. And the policies are largely the result of the line of separation of Church and State being crossed. Private beliefs are being pushed into policy, regardless of the voice of the majority. Perhaps I sound dramatic, but I myself never imagined I would need to write those words about my own country and therefore do not say them lightly. My hope is that we can maintain the established tradition and essential value of allowing for individual freedom of faith, and restricting public policy that elevates one particular doctrine over others. This is not an attack on Christianity; it is an attack on discriminating against other beliefs in the name of Christianity. Rather than allowing money and greed, along side or under the guise of religious values, to dictate the future of our country, let’s instead guarantee that each and every child has access to a quality education regardless of their zip code, and let’s ensure that our education is based on promoting acceptance and understanding of a broad range of cultural or religious beliefs. Then, and only then, can real change and progress happen.

“America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.” -Abraham Lincoln

Riding in a 1993 Mustang: A Tribute to Fathers

For better or worse, my dad is a ‘car guy”. He’s always had an intense love of those beautiful and dangerous machines on four wheels, with intense horsepower and gorgeously shaped fiberglass bodies. This love affair most likely came from his own father, who had been a truck driver his whole life and had also had a perpetual fascination with automobiles. My own father read car magazines religiously, and can identify differences in vehicles from the tiniest details- “That must be a ’67 Corvette because they changed the shape of the taillight slightly, making it more of an oval shape in ’68, and the ’66 Corvettes still have lights that stuck out a bit more like the previous years.” Every year we would go to multiple local car shows, and spend hours going to car after car and inspecting every inch to see how true to original it was or point out each tiny little imperfection.

When I was about eight, he purchased a 1993 Cobra Mustang. All black, with a CD player (a luxury at the time). It couldn’t be taken out in the rain, it was waxed meticulously whenever it was taken out of garage, and after months of owning it there was still a new car smell that permeated the vehicle- a pleasant mixture of leather and other scents. When we did take it out, we usually went to a diner named Annabelle’s, a retro place that was famous for its milkshakes. We would go there many Friday nights, as those nights many would gather to show off their cars, and just discuss cars at length. Though I was still too young to really care about cars, I still enjoyed going as a special treat. Going to Annabelle’s meant blasting Chuck Berry or Bob Segar from the stereo (my father’s two favorite CDs that he owned at the time), going extremely fast, and, of course, getting a thick milkshake that seemed endless. We would only go in the summer, so we would have the windows down to enjoy the fresh summer air, smelling of lingering sunshine and freshly cut grass.

One night, as we were coming home, we came to a stretch of road deemed “Freelane Way”- a long, straight stretch of somewhat secluded road that was my dad said was perfect for driving on at top speed.

“Alright, are you guys ready? Let’s see what this little Mustang has got! I’m going to pull a whole shot,” my dad said to my brother and I, excitement filling his voice. I had only a vague idea of what a “whole shot” was, being only eight and a half years old, but I could tell we’d be going fast.

It was already dark, despite it being summer, so the road was a strip lined with bright streetlights overhead which I imagined to be alien eyes spying on us. No other cars were around, and the night was perfectly quiet. My dad turned the music off, so we could just listen to the engine and exhaust. He had come to a stop, and then began to accelerate. Rapidly. My body was pressed hard against the leather seat that was yet to be broken in, and in a moment we were going the fastest I had even gone in my short life. I felt like I could hardly breath, and everything was a blur. I could feel each shift, going from gear to gear as quickly as possible, and I eventually closed my eye tightly, trying to block out the unnerving sensations.

The experience ended nearly as quickly as it had begun. We slowed down to a normal, safe speed and continued on our way home, though my dad had a large grin on his face. Despite the fact we were now driving along in a perfectly normal way, my heart continued to pound the rest of the way home.

Since it was well past our bedtime when we got home, something that was permitted on nights at Annabelle’s, we immediately got ready for bed once we arrived. I remained in a nervous state, unable to talk much and still shaking slightly. As my dad was putting me to bed, he could feel the tension and fear in me, and felt my body still trembling slightly from the ride.

“Oh, Scooter, I’m so so sorry! I didn’t know it would scare you like that! Are you alright? We don’t have to do that ever again, if it frightens you that much,” he said in a gentle voice, enveloping me in a warm, comforting hug. He held me close for a few moments, apologized again, and tucked me into my amiable sheets. After giving me a loud kiss on the forehead and placing his hand tranquility on the top of my head, he said good night and “I love you” one last time before leaving and closing my door for the night. My usual night light was still on, and by this time my heart had slowed and I drifted off easily into a dreamless sleep, unafraid and assured that I was entirely safe.

While he never pulled a whole shot in the Mustang while I was a passenger after that, I was never fearful of being harmed when going at high speed. Years later, he would force me to go on roller coasters that I was terrified of but ended up falling in love with. I am his youngest child, his only daughter, but he has never treated me as “weak” or fragile. He has supported me through every difficulty and every challenge I have encountered, and been there to share all of my joys as well. My father has always helped me see that I am stronger than I might think and times, and made sure that I have never let fear control my life. From an early age, he showed me that fear can only place restrictions on your enjoyment of life when you allow it, but he also has always been there for me in moments of need so that I have never felt alone. I’m not sure what more you could ask for from a father.13912691_10206944202191561_5221221979923566062_n

What the Election is Really About

I can’t truly begin to express how heavy my heart has been throughout this election.

Along with the rest of the country, I’ve watched divisions become more bitter, more violent. I’ve watched in disbelief as one candidate continuously spouts fear and hatred, and, most importantly, lies. I’ve seen one candidates’s bigotry, racism, sexism, and complete disregard for the value of a human being be accepted and cheered by half of the country. I could have never imagined it would come to this.

I see a country torn apart internally, I see a country struggling to remain proud and strong, I see a country desperate for real change.

This election isn’t about gun rights. Or immigration. Or taxes and health care.

This election is about basic human rights- treating everyone with respect and valuing them as an individual. You do not have to agree with someone’s beliefs always, but you have no right to devalue another individual. You have no right to tell someone what to do with their body, you have no right to tell someone they are not allowed to marry the person they love, you have no right to tell someone they have no right to live in our country because of where they were born. You have no right to allow the wealthy to be excluded from their responsibility to the country. You have no right to attack other nations unless it is in defense. Most importantly, you have no right to objectify women and make that seem alright to men all over the country, and even the world.

No politician is perfect. However, I refuse to live in an authoritarian state that doesn’t respect me as an individual. I refuse to live under a leader who simply sees woman as bodies to be used, and rejected when they aren’t “beautiful” enough. I refuse to accept that the progress we have made will reversed because of one individual who consistently lies, deceives, and promotes violence.

This election IS about keeping our country safe, but not from external enemies. It’s about keeping it safe from internal enemies who only desire to suppress the rights of certain groups of individuals. If we allow this to happen, we are throwing away both years of hard work and the founding principles of our nation.

If you think you have no choice and your vote doesn’t matter, think again. Please.


I’ve kept promising myself I would begin this, and now I finally am. Perhaps I don’t have the most dynamic or captivating story to tell. But perhaps even just for my own reflection and sanity this may be a help to me.

The past year has been, well, challenging, to say the least. In some ways, I’m not sure who I became, or who I am now. I know so much changed for me, and that I somehow lost the person I know I should be. I know so much changed, and I lost sight of the things that make my life fulfilling. I’ve had to completely reevaluate where I am, where I want to be, and face challenges I either avoided or didn’t anticipate. Yet I realize that 1. I am become a better, strong person because of this and 2. That I am extremely lucky in many ways, and could hardly say that my life is miserable.

I’m not sure where to start.

It’s interesting how people always want to know how and when “the eating thing” started. I don’t have a good answer for that. It wasn’t a single moment or instant… It slowly grew and grew until it took over… I let it take over, I suppose you could say. Though I convinced myself I was still perfectly in control. I believed I was doing right by my body, not eating anything fattening and staying active with a rigid exercise routine. I refused to admit that it had become an obsession, and I refused to see that I had dropped beyond a healthy weight, to a weight that was neither attractive or even modestly healthy.

It took awhile for me to finally open my eyes enough to see it. And it took a lot of assistance from some wonderful people in my life.

I remember stepping on the scale and seeing the number 64. And how much it frightened me. And realizing that I had to change.

For me, it was never really about reaching a perfect weight, or even feeling like I as extremely overweight. I do believe I started out with good intentions- eating healthier and getting my body good exercise. Somewhere along the line though, I started to become inflexible and incapable of, well, having a normal perspective of food. Anything with fat had to be eliminated. The foods I found acceptable to eat became smaller and smaller. I couldn’t finish the foods I did allow myself to eat- I didn’t need or deserve the calories.

The control felt good. It was something I could do well. I was proud that I could survive on so little; it made me feel strong. I wasn’t weak and lazy, I had self control, I was not going to become like the thousands of obese Americans out there.

Skipping a morning or running or walking was unacceptable. Eating the entire bagel for breakfast was unnecessary- I didn’t need all of the calories. Going out to eat was extremely uncomfortable- everything had too much fat and caused me so much anxiety. I didn’t want to talk about it all I- I refused to acknowledge that my temper had become impossibly short, that I was treating everyone as an enemy and that I was changing as a person. That I wasn’t thinking as clearly and that I had become… someone else.

It took loosing just about every good thing in my life for me to truly see where I had brought myself.

First it was the job. Which is still hard for me to discuss. I made a mistake and I had to face  the consequences. Then it was the car accidents, then it was James. The car accidents were, well, accidents. It’s easy to attribute them to the eating disorder specifically but it’s easy to make that association. And James, well… That is something else all together, a separate entry all it’s own.

What matters now, though, is that I am moving forward. Every day gets a little easier, at least in many ways. I feel like I have a fresh start, and that I have to take this opportunity to set things right, so to speak. I have started learning to enjoy life again, to not let myself be consumed with anxiety and feelings of unworthiness. Life has to keep going and right now I can just keep making positive steps forward.

I will end here for now, but I hope to continue more soon. I’m sorry if this is a little sporadic or disjointed. And any/all feedback is certainly welcome and appreciated.

Right now, I’m glad to be in Florida, spending some time with my dad and enjoying the beautiful beach and sunshine.

More  soon.