daily emancipation

THERE ARE PLACES THAT ARE SCARRED
AND THE SKIN IS PULLED AROUND,
LIKE THE NAVEL OR THE
HEAD OF THE PENIS,
THAT LEAVE YOU THINKING
THAT THE BODY IS FRAGILE.

— Jenny Holzer; Truisms ( http://www.cs.utexas.edu/~field/holzer/living.txt)

21 September 2009

“It’s difficult for me to understand how listening to the president, the commander in chief, the chief citizen of this country, is damaging to the youth of today,” said Phyllis Griffin Epps, an analyst for the city who has two children in public school.

( note* click the ORANGE part for a link to the New York Times article…)

It is difficult for ME to understand how having a president who is serious enough about kids education to make a speech directly to kids is a problem. Of course what IS a problem is if the speech inspires kids to push themselves harder in classrooms that are not equipped for students to actually learn. Policies like no child left behind make is pretty difficult for teachers to really teach.

so Obama, don’t f this up; sure, let kids know that a good education benefits the individual and the nation, but its not just about what the kids can do for the nations’ future- it’s also about demonstrating that this nation is prepared to support the individuals’ future.

4 September 2009 • education obama speech no child left behind nationalism ayn rand

THE LETTER ON THE ROAD

Farewell, but you will be
with me, you will go within
a drop of blood circulating in my veins
or outside, a kiss that burns my Face
or a belt of fire at my waist.
My sweet, accept
the great love that came out of my life
and that in you found no territory
like the explorer lost
in the isles of bread and honey.
I found you after
the storm,
the rain washed the air
and in the water
your sweet feet gleamed like fishes.

Adored one, I am off to my fighting.

I shall scratch the earth to make you a cave
and there your Captain
will wait for you with flowers in the bed.
Think no more, my sweet,
about the anguish
that went on between us
like a bolt of phosphorous
leaving us perhaps its burning.
Peace arrived too because I return
to my land to fight,
and as I have a whole heart
with the share of blood that you gave me
forever,

and as
I have
my hands filled with your naked being,
look at me,
look at me,
look at me across the sea, for I go radiant,
look at me across the night through which I sail,
and sea and night are those eyes of yours.
I have not left you when I go away.
Now I am going to tell you:
my land will be yours,
I am going to conquer it,
not just to give it to you,
but for everyone,
for all my people.
The thief will come out of his tower some day.
And the invader will be expelled.
All the fruits of life
will grow in my hands
accustomed once to powder.
And I shall know how to touch the new flowers gently
because you taught me tenderness.
My sweet, adored one,
you will come with me to fight face to face
because your kisses live in my heart
like red banners,
and if I fall, not only
will earth cover me
but also this great love that you brought me
and that lived circulating in my blood.
You will come with me,
at that hour I wait for you,
at that hour and at every hour,
at every hour I wait for you.
And when the sadness that I hate comes
to knock at your door,
tell her that I am waiting for you
and when loneliness wants you to change
the ring in which my name is written,
tell loneliness to talk with me,
that I had to go away
because I am a soldier,
and that there where I am,
under rain or under
fire,
my love, I wait for you.
I wait for you in the harshest desert
and next to the flowering lemon tree,
in every place where there is life,
where spring is being born,
my love, I wait for you.
When they tell you: ” That man
does not love you,” remember
that my feet are alone in that night, and they seek
the sweet and tiny feet that I adore.
Love, when they tell you
that I have forgotten you, and even when
it is I who say it,
when I say it to you,
do not believe me,
who could and how could anyone
cut you from my heart
and who would receive
my blood
when I went bleeding toward you?
But still I can not
forget my people.
I am going to fight in each street,
behind each stone.
Your love also helps me:
it is a closed flower
that constantly fills me with its aroma
and that opens suddenly
within me like a great star.

My love, it is night.

The black water, the sleeping
world surround me.
Soon dawn will come,
and meanwhile I write you
to tell you: ” I love you.”
To tell you ” I love you,” care for,
clean, lift up,
defend
our love, my darling.
I leave it with you as if I left
a handful of earth with seeds.
From our love lives will be born.
In our love they will drink water.
Perhaps a day will come
when a man and a woman, like
us,
will touch this love and it will still have the strength
to burn the hands that touch it.
Who were we? What does it matter?
They will touch this fire and the fire,
my sweet, will say your simple name
and mine, the name
that only you knew, because you alone
upon earth know
who I am, and because nobody knew me like one,
like just one hand of yours,
because nobody
knew how or when
my heart was burning:
only your great dark eyes knew,
your wide mouth,
your skin, your breasts,
your belly, your insides,
and your soul that I awoke
so that it would go on
singing until the end of life.

Love, I am waiting for you.
Farewell, love, I am waiting for you.
Love, love, I am waiting for you.

And so this letter ends
with no sadness:
my feet are firm upon the earth,
my hand writes this letter on the road,
and in the midst of life I shall be
always
beside the friend, facing the enemy,
with your name on my mouth
and a kiss that never
broke away from yours.

— Pablo Neruda. Check out this link to see the poem in its original language ( Spanish)http://www.adowns.com/PabloNeruda.html#Letterontheroad.

4 September 2009 • Neruda letter on the road love rebellion

Campus Racism 101

werd. reading this on the back of the Walter Dean Meyers interview was a powerful combination- check out his piece on the social contract.

best quote:

What’s the difference between prison and college? They both prescribe your behavior for a given period of time. They both allow you to read books and develop our writing. They both give you time alone to think and time with your peers to talk about issues. But four years of prison doesn’t give you a passport to greater opportunities. Most likely that time only gives you greater knowledge of how to get back in. Four years of college gives you an opportunity not only to lift yourself but to serve your people effectively. What’s the difference when you are called nigger in college from when your are called nigger in prison? In college you can, though I admit with effort, follow procedures to have those students who called you nigger kicked out or suspended. You can bring issues to public attention without risking your life. But mostly, college is and always has been the future. We, neither less nor more than other people, need knowledge. there are discomforts attached to attending predominantly white colleges, though no more so than living in a racist world.

4 September 2009 • nikki giovanni dean walter myers education racism

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Letter from the Road by Pablo Neruda.

Neruda is considered to be one of the best poets of the 20th century. He was awarded a Nobel Prize, that was rather controversial, due to his political activism. Originally from Chile, he began writing when he was a teenager under this pen name in order to safeguard against his father finding out about the poetry. His father had aspirations that Pablo would become something more respected than a poet- which he did. He spent a great deal of his life as a foreign diplomat for Chile- and spent a couple years in Burma. Of course, ever the revolutionary, he continued to write and publish. Eventually, Chile outlawed communism, and sent our a warrant for his arrest- he was never caught, but did spent time in exile.

His life is an interesting story, and you should really read up on him. But for now, I just want to share this poem, which I consider to be one of my favorites.

4 September 2009