I don’t think you have met Mr. Whitman’s poem let me introduce him to you.

I don’t think you have met Mr. Whitman’s poem let me introduce him to you.

First forget everything you learned at school and just imagine you, yourself are Walt Whitman’s poem – the big poem, the one that contains and encompasses EVERYTHING and EVERYONE and ALL TIME. You are full of lists of everything. “Work-box, chest, string’d instrument, boat, frame, and what not,”

Imagine that you are Walt Whitman’s poem. You are full of Walt Whitman, “The impalpable sustenance of me from all things at all hours of the day.”

Imagine that you are Walt Whitman’s poem. You are constantly in contradiction and constantly resolving your contradictions.  You are here and now and then: “I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence.”

Imagine that you are Walt Whitman’s poem and you are and always have been waiting for you to read you, “I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.”

Imagine that you are Walt Whitman’s poem. You have been waiting for you to hear your rhythms, your cadences, “you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose.”

A Truly Great Blog

https://louisecharente.wordpress.com/

What can we do to bring something back into the commons?

What can we do to bring something back into the commons?

We need to assure that we elect honest, intelligent, thoughtful representatives to public office. Representatives who are financially free from influence by corporations and/or wealthy individuals. In the USA that would mean completely reforming our election system and creating strict regulations to assure that the reforms stayed in place. (Hardin)

We need an educated, well-informed citizenry, who are watchful, as opposed to apathetic, and demand that the common good be protected and regulated without pressure from biased groups or from greed. (Singer)

In Ohio, public schools were established by the state legislature in 1825. From the beginning schools were open to all white children in the community. “The school law of 1853 required school boards to establish  separate schools for African American children if there were more than thirty children (in the district), boards could operate integrated schools if no parents objected. In 1887 school law revoked authority to maintain separate schools, requiring school boards to provide the same educational opportunities to students of all races.”http://www.ohiohistorycentral.org/w/Public_Schools?rec=2209

While there is a long history of agreement that all children should be educated, and lip service, but not dollars, to the idea that all children should be educated to their full potential -- the reality has been that Ohio's goal for most black children is that they be educated only to a level at which they can function within the laws of the community and provide for themselves at a minimum economic level that will prevent them from needing assistance from the state.

Ohio’s charter school movement was created in the late 90’s by Republican legislators who publicly stated noble goals and privately arranged for the transfer of seven billion public tax dollars – sorely needed by the public schools -- to private for-profit corporations.  Instead of increasing funds to improve public urban schools, Republicans shamelessly channeled tax dollars to enrich the rich. Hundreds of charters opened in former pet supermarkets, empty car dealerships, warehouses, and abandoned school buildings - most of them in high minority population areas. The results are the usual consequences of greed: Thirty-three percent of new Ohio charter schools close within two years. Eighty-three out of the bottom 84 schools in Ohio are charter schools. Large urban public school districts continue to decline while billions are misspent.

A similar pattern of greed and decline can be seen in higher education in Ohio. The Republican controlled legislature has steadfastly withheld support from the state’s universities while encouraging the growth of for-profit colleges specifically by intentionally refusing to create publicly funded competition with the for-profits by creating flexible schedules, online courses, and local sites that would attract the 12% of Ohio’s students enrolled in for-profits – most of whom are veterans and low-income students. Final tuition costs at for-profit colleges are more than twice the cost of a public college. For-profits account for 25 percent of federal financial aid (over $30 billion annually nationally) and 45 percent of student loan default.

I do not have a favorite poem.

I do not have a favorite poem.

A poem is something that happens to you without intention or choice.

Backing  out of your garage, you hit the building and knock off your sideview mirror. The rest of the day you see things differently.  

Whitman is like that. Who gets up in the morning and says, I think I’ll meet someone today who is so absolutely weird, someone I can’t forget, can’t ever escape. Whitman happens to you. You don’t happen to Whitman.

You are tired. You stumble around the kitchen late at night trying to get a glass of water, you drop the bottle, step on the glass, your foot is bleeding.  You would never make a plan to have that wound.

Shakespeare is like that. You would never choose  to know  the world is that cruel, that horrible, that beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. You only meant to go to a play or do your reading assignment and you will never be the same again.

You can read poetry, and close read it and turn it inside out and shake it,  but a poem is something that happens to you.

When I'm Sixty-Five

I've been sixty-five for almost a year now. 

June 14th, I quit the job that I had been doing for forty some years. 
I walked away because I felt that I was too ill to continue being of much real value, and that attempting to work on would hinder any chance I might recover at least some of my health.

I miss my friends and the common purpose and community that we formed. And so I'm stuck. Unable to go back and unable to move forward.

Its the dead of winter. I'm frozen in the snow.