I don't understand the way things are anymore. Used to be, a person worked hard, mastered their job, devoted to it years of service and loyalty, and the company knew to give 'em a pat on the head and a roof over their head. It was all about trust and reciprocity. When times were lean, they problem-solved like good partners do. Eighty years after the Depression what lingers are those inspirational stories of corporate heads taking big salary cuts and workers offering to split their shifts so their buddy can stay on the payroll. Corporate America knew their success was intertwined with their workers.
That's not a common belief anymore, that big business will take one for the team. 'Experience' is being let go in record numbers, replaced with young grasshopper workers who are cheap and inexperienced. Maybe retirement is too pricey, I don't know, but it's hard to swallow bailout money being used to buy corporate jets and host lavish parties. That $100K office remodel would hold a couple three workers in their jobs for a year. Even worse, it creates a reciprocal user environment of self centered, unmotivated, uninspired workers. What a second rate idea.
There's a reason folks make a 35 minute drive to see their dentist twice year and chit chat about the kids. It's standing room only at that out-of-the-way sushi restaurant because the sushi chef remembers his customer's favorite rolls. Sure, there are businesses closer to home, but it's not the same.
Truth is, I seek connections. It's why I have a favorite clerk at the market and why we patronize the little theatre downtown instead of the big one at the end of town. It's good to know who will pick up the phone, someone to trust to have answers, who knows me.
With all these layoffs, I'm wondering how these big dogs gauge the market value of this kind of customer service, or even if they do. All of America is watching and wondering: has our corporate country lost its conscience?
I assumed we'd already learned the different ways to measure success. Throwing resources and faith behind their workers when it's needed most will translate into white hot profits. At the very least, and this is huge, it would restore our faith in corporate America to do the ethical thing, not just what benefits them.
Jan 27, 2009
Jan 26, 2009
The Invisible Mother
Every now and then a funny and prophetic article comes along that is too heartwarming to keep to myself. Although it refers to mothers, I know others will recognize themselves: coaches and neighbors, fathers, uncles and teachers. Together we build one masterpiece at a time. Thank you.
----
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.
Somedays I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands, I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England ... Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Wendy, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, afterwhich I could pattern my work:
1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Wendy. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by our sacrifices.
----
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.
Somedays I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands, I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England ... Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Wendy, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, afterwhich I could pattern my work:
1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Wendy. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by our sacrifices.
Jan 21, 2009
My Fellow Citizens
(Jan. 20) - Text of President Barack Obama's inaugural address on Tuesday, as prepared for delivery and released by the Presidential Inaugural Committee.
My fellow citizens:
I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.
Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace.
Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because we the people have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebears, and true to our founding documents.
So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.
That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.
These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land — a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.
Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America — they will be met.
On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.
On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.
We remain a young nation, but in the words of scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.
In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted — for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things — some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.
For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.
For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.
For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn. Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.
This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions — that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.
For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act — not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.
Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions — who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.
What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them — that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works — whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account — to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day — because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.
Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control — and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart — not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.
As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our founding fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.
Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.
We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort — even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.
For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus — and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.
To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West — know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.
To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.
As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment — a moment that will define a generation — it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.
For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.
Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends — hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism — these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility — a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.
This is the price and the promise of citizenship.
This is the source of our confidence — the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.
This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed — why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.
So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:
"Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive...that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet (it)."
America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.
Barak Obama, 44th President of the United States
My fellow citizens:
I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.
Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace.
Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because we the people have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebears, and true to our founding documents.
So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.
That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.
These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land — a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.
Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America — they will be met.
On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.
On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.
We remain a young nation, but in the words of scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.
In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted — for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things — some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.
For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.
For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.
For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn. Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.
This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions — that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.
For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act — not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.
Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions — who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.
What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them — that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works — whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account — to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day — because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.
Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control — and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart — not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.
As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our founding fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.
Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.
We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort — even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.
For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus — and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.
To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West — know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.
To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.
As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment — a moment that will define a generation — it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.
For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.
Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends — hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism — these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility — a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.
This is the price and the promise of citizenship.
This is the source of our confidence — the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.
This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed — why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.
So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:
"Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive...that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet (it)."
America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.
Barak Obama, 44th President of the United States
Mr. President
I stood with the rest of the school in a dark auditorium watching Barak Obama become the 44th President. Hand over my heart, and tears in my eyes, I was as present in the moment as if I were trembling in the 20 degree chill on the sunny steps in Washington D.C.
A thousand inner-city students bore witness to the tradition taking place on the wavy screen on the stage: their first inauguration, I mused, and in some ways mine, too. How in tune and hopeful it felt to hear our President's thoughtful, intelligent spirit beneath the words, and the harnessed power beneath. The students stood respectfully, and erupted in joyful celebration when Joe Biden and Barak Obama took the oaths of office.
How deeply needed were the President's words, like a salve on a wound, and reminiscent of the Kennedys and of King: inspiring, comforting, leading the charge in a new direction. President Obama's call to active citizenship was not just on election day, although our country participated fully: it was a call to retire iCitizenship and embrace weCitizenship. Too long have we focused on ourselves, prioritizing personal needs above those of others.
Our President's words brought rain to a parched land, boosted us to our feet, steeled us for the sacrifices ahead with reminders of our own humble, gritty heritage that is our bedrock. To believe our country's greatest hours lie ahead means we must earn it back through innovation, competition, hard work and sacrifice. We have arrived at the moment of truth.
It is wonderful to see young people as Americans at this juncture. The words, work and spirit of the Kennedys and Martin Luther King deeply shaped my sense of citizenship and President Obama will do that for them. There is such promise in the air! God willing, our prayers will continue to be answered for President Obama's safety, success in action and wisdom in adversity as he move us forward.
A thousand inner-city students bore witness to the tradition taking place on the wavy screen on the stage: their first inauguration, I mused, and in some ways mine, too. How in tune and hopeful it felt to hear our President's thoughtful, intelligent spirit beneath the words, and the harnessed power beneath. The students stood respectfully, and erupted in joyful celebration when Joe Biden and Barak Obama took the oaths of office.
How deeply needed were the President's words, like a salve on a wound, and reminiscent of the Kennedys and of King: inspiring, comforting, leading the charge in a new direction. President Obama's call to active citizenship was not just on election day, although our country participated fully: it was a call to retire iCitizenship and embrace weCitizenship. Too long have we focused on ourselves, prioritizing personal needs above those of others.
Our President's words brought rain to a parched land, boosted us to our feet, steeled us for the sacrifices ahead with reminders of our own humble, gritty heritage that is our bedrock. To believe our country's greatest hours lie ahead means we must earn it back through innovation, competition, hard work and sacrifice. We have arrived at the moment of truth.
It is wonderful to see young people as Americans at this juncture. The words, work and spirit of the Kennedys and Martin Luther King deeply shaped my sense of citizenship and President Obama will do that for them. There is such promise in the air! God willing, our prayers will continue to be answered for President Obama's safety, success in action and wisdom in adversity as he move us forward.
Jan 17, 2009
The Year of Redistribution
In 2008, the sky filled with black and ominous storm clouds, and its first heavy downpour washed away some of life. More storms are on the horizon, back to back, fierce in their momentum and forcing us down.
Should we have better assessed its trajectory and power? Yes.
Is it too late to be seeding the clouds to lessen the impact? Maybe.
Last year became a year to fight or flee, self reflect, stand in solidarity and divide, redraw boundaries and reroute traditions. The old communal philosophies were challenged by a world that did not ask forgiveness or permission as it dispensed out old world consequences. We went to war with our value system.
And yet all is not lost. Grandbabies were born, families were reunited, people fell in love. It was historically significant. Moments like these, and lessons about blossoming and waning friendships, made the year of redistribution a year of redistributing the big rocks in my jar.
Life breathes into the pivot points, connections and laughter, even the tears shed at the solemn challenges ahead. As it pounds down from above, I hope we seek shelter together and lighten the load.
Should we have better assessed its trajectory and power? Yes.
Is it too late to be seeding the clouds to lessen the impact? Maybe.
Last year became a year to fight or flee, self reflect, stand in solidarity and divide, redraw boundaries and reroute traditions. The old communal philosophies were challenged by a world that did not ask forgiveness or permission as it dispensed out old world consequences. We went to war with our value system.
And yet all is not lost. Grandbabies were born, families were reunited, people fell in love. It was historically significant. Moments like these, and lessons about blossoming and waning friendships, made the year of redistribution a year of redistributing the big rocks in my jar.
Life breathes into the pivot points, connections and laughter, even the tears shed at the solemn challenges ahead. As it pounds down from above, I hope we seek shelter together and lighten the load.
My Honey with Lemon
We went to dinner last night, and that's when it started. The hiccups.
He was plugged up already from a cold and probably swallowed a lot air while enjoying sushi at our favorite haunt. He hiccupped home and we checked a medical book and online to wade through the thousands of homeopathic solutions. Turns out it's like baseball: everybody has an opinion but the only way to know for sure is to try it firsthand.
During the night, plugged up and breathing through his mouth, and hiccupping, he was his own human guinea pig. A teaspoon of sugar seemed to be a temporary fix but for a diabetic that's an even draw. Thinking Zicam might unstuff him, so he could breathe and gulp less air, which in turn would get rid of the hiccups, he took that, and sneezed so many times in a row he pulled a muscle below his left shoulderblade.
:)
God love 'em, he's still really funny and patient as I'm trying different remedies, like startling him, having him drink water upside down, hot tea of course, using pressure points on his forehead and reluctantly more teaspoons of sugar. I've made chicken soup because that fixes everything.
He's resting comfortably at present, happily distracted by a movie, as he hiccups away, wedged in the sofa with kleenex box in hand, a heating pad on his shoulderblade and a cup of hot tea with lemon and honey. Since I have no plans to blog about a visit to the ER, I'm heading back online to find a cure.
He was plugged up already from a cold and probably swallowed a lot air while enjoying sushi at our favorite haunt. He hiccupped home and we checked a medical book and online to wade through the thousands of homeopathic solutions. Turns out it's like baseball: everybody has an opinion but the only way to know for sure is to try it firsthand.
During the night, plugged up and breathing through his mouth, and hiccupping, he was his own human guinea pig. A teaspoon of sugar seemed to be a temporary fix but for a diabetic that's an even draw. Thinking Zicam might unstuff him, so he could breathe and gulp less air, which in turn would get rid of the hiccups, he took that, and sneezed so many times in a row he pulled a muscle below his left shoulderblade.
:)
God love 'em, he's still really funny and patient as I'm trying different remedies, like startling him, having him drink water upside down, hot tea of course, using pressure points on his forehead and reluctantly more teaspoons of sugar. I've made chicken soup because that fixes everything.
He's resting comfortably at present, happily distracted by a movie, as he hiccups away, wedged in the sofa with kleenex box in hand, a heating pad on his shoulderblade and a cup of hot tea with lemon and honey. Since I have no plans to blog about a visit to the ER, I'm heading back online to find a cure.
Jan 10, 2009
Truth, Justice and the American Way
What marks the beginning of the Christmas season for you? Please tell me it's not Christmas debris in the stores before Halloween. For me, it's receiving a newsy Christmas letter from my friend in Texas. I look forward to it every year, an armchair glimpse into the world of an engaged, lifelong learner.
This year, 'we' found a perfect ski spot and beautiful chalet that cost next to nothing for the week. Being able to compete in the state championships for women's tennis doubles was a thrill, once the shock of it being for 'seniors' wore off. We laugh about our boys, are voracious readers, disagree on politics and enjoy metaphysics.
I love to watch her participate in life. Her arms of support are raised high beneath her sons until they catch that first big updraft, but do not linger long. She wants her children to become the architects of their own lives, and for that to happen, she must let go.
Her marriage maintains a balance without maintaining a balance sheet. They play. They dance. They fight. But they are quick to demonstrate kindness, adapt to each other's growing interests, and show respect and love. In twenty years of friendship, I have yet to hear an unkind word spoken by one about the other.
It looks so easy on her, but it's not. It takes self discipline to take the high road, to push oneself forward into life rather than watch it. Investing in life yields the bigger reward. Well Done!
This year, 'we' found a perfect ski spot and beautiful chalet that cost next to nothing for the week. Being able to compete in the state championships for women's tennis doubles was a thrill, once the shock of it being for 'seniors' wore off. We laugh about our boys, are voracious readers, disagree on politics and enjoy metaphysics.
I love to watch her participate in life. Her arms of support are raised high beneath her sons until they catch that first big updraft, but do not linger long. She wants her children to become the architects of their own lives, and for that to happen, she must let go.
Her marriage maintains a balance without maintaining a balance sheet. They play. They dance. They fight. But they are quick to demonstrate kindness, adapt to each other's growing interests, and show respect and love. In twenty years of friendship, I have yet to hear an unkind word spoken by one about the other.
It looks so easy on her, but it's not. It takes self discipline to take the high road, to push oneself forward into life rather than watch it. Investing in life yields the bigger reward. Well Done!
Jan 2, 2009
City Lights
I read this morning about Editta Sherman, a 95 year old lady who has lived in a flat above Carnegie Hall for 61 years. She received an eviction notice last week because there are $150 million in renovations planned for the space.
The 'Duchess of Carnegie', as she's known locally, is a professional photographer. All around her apartment, framed photos sit in rows, famous faces who through the years touched her life, the Hall, the world.
Streaming light floods in from all sides. Vogue photo shoots were here. The black and white checkerboard tiles and the spiral staircase have hosted Carl Sandberg, Yul Brenner, Eva Gabor, Tyrone Power, Salvador Dali and Paul Newman. Editta's five children and 25 grandchildren, too.
The 'Duchess of Carnegie', as she's known locally, is a professional photographer. All around her apartment, framed photos sit in rows, famous faces who through the years touched her life, the Hall, the world.
Streaming light floods in from all sides. Vogue photo shoots were here. The black and white checkerboard tiles and the spiral staircase have hosted Carl Sandberg, Yul Brenner, Eva Gabor, Tyrone Power, Salvador Dali and Paul Newman. Editta's five children and 25 grandchildren, too.
The City of New York has already relocated some of the 48 tenants after the courts said they had to go. I don't know, though: they haven't come up against a near-centurion who still jumps rope to stay in shape. It will be interesting to see if the courts can place a value on a living piece of history. My money's on her.
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