Shenandoah

Why does it amaze me that things like this still happen? We’re supposed to be so enlightened, ushered in to a new age of racial friendship by President McNobelPrize, the deeply-rooted problems of this country solved miraculously over a Bud.

And yet. And yet.

I have a son. He’s mixed. He’s not remotely Mexican (and even if he were, should that matter?), but he could be walking home one day with his white girlfriend and be beaten senseless by “good kids”. Track stars. 4.0 GPAs.

And it terrifies me.

I hear statements from my students so many times, running the gamut of misinformed to shockingly prejudiced. But these are students from other countries, some having herded camels as recently as last week, from societies rife with tribal warfare and barbarically- enforced religious law.

This is not that place. These are not those people (yes, I know, and even if they were….).

I hear so many people say with such conviction that we’re all blank slates- born with nothing but goodness, sweetness, and an evolutionary predisposition to do good and save the earth. Babies are born good, right? Full of potential, only lacking a little “pruning”, straight little shoots going right up toward the sun.

So explain this. What do you do when kids with such stable backgrounds, such middle-America ethos, such blond-crew-cut upbringings- with everything in the world going for them, beat a man into the ground?

And how, as parents, do we prepare our kids for this? How did the parents of these kids prepare them?

And how do I prepare myself?

Wise Latina

Here’s the thing- I don’t really think that the Republicans have much to go on to nail Sotomayor and oppose her candidacy for the Supreme Court. Their points of attack are less than stellar, and unfortunately have the effect of seeming peevish and partisan.

I think this self-styled “wise Latina” may have misspoke with her one-time racist comment, but I don’t think she’s inherently racist, even with her ruling on the firefighter case.

I have issues, however, with her empathy.

Yes. I know- I’m a practicing Christian, shouldn’t empathy be at the top of my list? Sure. When dealing with the poor, when deciding to help a homeless man, when wondering how to best debate a friend on social isues. Empathy. What you do for the least of these, etc.

Empathy is one of those ideas that sounds great, theoretically. Identifying with someone is one of the most amazing things a human can do…putting oneself second- thinking of another first. And when you’re awash in this relativist culture, empathy can be a boon to understanding each other, and making strides towards action.

But when dealing with what should be an impartial Supreme Court bench? Not so much. Obama touted her empathy, and yet- is that really what we want? Empathy is all fine and good when it serves your outcome- when the judge looks with empathy on your case and decides in your favor- but how about when his/her empathy goes the other way?

So bah humbug and no thanks. I like my justice blind, thanks, and my judges impartial. Even if she’s a wise Latina like me.

Should I stay or should I go?

Ahhhh….Easter. Chocolate hangovers, sugar letdowns, and people carrying crosses.

I hope you got a little glimpse of at least one penitent staggering down the street in dramatic Christological support of their issue-du-jour. In the Phillippines, they really get into it, actually nailing themselves and scourging their flesh. Mother Church turns a blind eye.

Hey, whatever. I’ll take a basket of Peeps and some chianti.

Interesting, though, is this CNN story about a girl in Japan whose parents are being deported. Her parents entered Japan illegally from the Phillippines, and she’s been asked to choose between her parents and her homeland. I’m not sure why it’s garnered the attention of CNN except for its applicability to US immigration law, protested this weekend by many immigrants with crosses.

Then there’s this story from the NY Times about something similar, where a girl’s father is deported and she’s left to live with her citizen granny (in this case, the estranged girl interestingly quips “I think I love him…”). In this case, the judge famously noted that the welfare of the children must be taken into account when deporting illegal immigrants. Which could be huge- have a kid, stay in the US. Can you say anchor babies?

I’m wondering where to stand on this one. I saw a soundbite from a lady on Univision (blegh), marching against deportation, whose son is a citizen. “He wants to come back to his country!” she wails. But isn’t it…her fault that he’s not with his countrymen? And, as immigration reform writers often ask, what does it say that illegals’ first action in this country is to break the law?

But the kids.

I know, the kids.

Thoughts?

Lost in translation

So the Koreans were lying. Maybe. Maybe the key for “ballistic missile” was malfunctioning on their pocket translators and they instead came out with “peaceful music-beaming satellite in honor of our dear leader”.

The coverage on Univision was hilarious, BTW. I have to give it to them—their spin is remarkably blatant. Like Al-Jazeera for Latinos. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve just had word that North Korea has launched a rocket at Japan! This unannounced and unprecedented action will surely bring swift reprisals from Obama…”

Obama, woken from sleep, shakes his fist: “Words must mean something!”

(Stamp, stamp)

I admit, I felt a little sorry for Obama in that moment, with that empty phrase bouncing off the buildings in that plaza in Prague.

What are you going to do when they lie to your face, and defend that lie as morally correct? Korea is simply doing what they want to do, as a sovereign nation. Who are we to tell them they’re wrong? Would we listen if they told us not to toss things into space? Pshaw.

And thus my problem with the “whatever floats your boat” mentality. With no absolute truth (i.e., that may be true for you, but it’s not for me), we’re left with no grounds to tell anyone anything. There’s no ultimate Yes and No- and nothing can ever be, absolutely and objectively, wrong. We’re left shouting empty words to a crowd where our meaning is, ultimately, lost in translation.

Luck o’the Latinos

I know it’s a day after, but my daycare provider sent this photographic evidence of the cruel and unusual tactics she uses with my 11-month-old.

Kiss me I'm...not Irish.