nude

This post started off as a light and meaningful story about a conversation I had with my son a couple of days ago about nail polish. We were watching a commercial for a color called nude and as I watched not thinking anything except that's a nice color, he said out loud racist. Racist? He looked at me and asked, why is that color considered nude, when that's not nude for everyone? Something that I've accepted as fact all my life was now being questioned and contested by my almost 16 year old.

We have several examples of one nude being the universal skin color: pantyhose, Band-Aids, and for the longest time make-up foundation was only available in a few shades. So now we've added nail polish to the list.  For me, it's not about the lack of shades or the insensitivity to naming these shades. At the moment I heard racist, I realized the education my son is receiving - at home and in school - is working. He's being taught to see the other point of view, realize there's more than one side to a story, be empathic and challenge the norm. It was one of those parent moments we wait for and hope for.

So that's the abbreviated post I was originally going with until I read the horrendous news story coming out of Jackson, Mississippi about the brutal beating and murder of James Craig Anderson. It's impossible for me to understand how a group of teenagers can have as much hate as it takes to beat and run over a 49-year-old black man solely because of the color of his skin. 

Who are these kids? Who are their parents? What are they learning in school? How do we live in a country where a teenager in NY sees how unfair the name of a nail polish is and in the same country have a teenager who can utter the words let's go f*#k with some n#*%ers and proceed to kill a man without remorse? 

If he gets what he deserves, he'll be in jail for a double life sentence. If he had gotten what he deserved, it would have been an education. 

i do

with those two words, ny says a lot.

i've always lived, worked and attended schools where i was in the majority. being white...being jewish...being straight. i don't know what it's like to be in a minority, but that has never stopped me from empathizing with those who are. and going one step further, it's never stopped me from supporting those who are.

i'm guessing that's why i was overwhelmed with emotions this morning during a news story on the first same sex marriage in ny today. how special to see couples who have been together for 4 years or 14 years on the day their relationship is honored and made legal. i realize it's an important day in ny, but i cannot help thinking it's 2011 and what took us so long. it seems incomprehensible to me that an entire group of people in the united states of america cannot get married simply because of who they love.

it's as incomprehensible to me as not letting women vote or blacks own land or jews live - and unfortunately the list goes on. so, do you need to feel for the persecuted only if you're part of the group being persecuted? and do you need to stand up for equality for all when it's just about your group? 

do you feel inspired to do something for another group?  i do.

only in new york

where else could you receive a text at 4:30 on a saturday afternoon and be offered 2 tickets to the last performance of driving miss daisy starring 2 legends? vanessa redgrave and james earl jones on broadway; the richness of their history is palpable. the spontaneity of the night made it even more special.

the play itself is a love story between a jewish woman and a black man that begins in the racist 1950s...the racist 50s. it's such a slice of our history, illustrating hatred based on skin color and religion. and it makes you wonder how far we've actually come. i know obama is in the white house, but that one act does not fix centuries of oppression.

it was an interesting evening to see the play. it ended a day spent thinking and discussing diversity issues and how they apply to independent schools. how far have we come if the need still exists to discuss diversity? as the last curtain call ended, what struck me with such sadness was the thought that this might be the last time either of them performs on broadway.

thank you, melanie!

wwcd:

 enjoy the special moments

no wings?

maybe i'm just nostalgic lately or maybe it was our recent flight to florida, but i've been thinking about how magical it was to travel when i was a child. i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the magic is gone. not just a little gone, but all gone. while at laguardia last week, i saw a mom, dad and their 4 year old daughter looking haggard as they made their way through the terminal and couldn't help but remember how excited i used to get the minute we entered the airport. people dressed for travel and flying was an event, not a burden. pilots were dashing and exuded confidence. stewardesses dressed in colorful uniforms, smiled and were helpful. and i had a collection of airline pins, each one saying i had my wings to fly.

i understand we live in different times since 911 and i appreciate the idea behind strict security measures. what i don't understand is the arbitrary act of some security agents. as i said, zach and i were just in florida and our dog lucy came with us. it's insulting enough that i have to pay $200 for her round trip under-the-seat ticket, but guess what item stopped us at security? her prescription canned dog food. 

the tsa agent uttered the words you never want to hear, "please step to the side." he went through my carry on (no checked bags to delay us when we land) and he found 3 cans of lucy's food and looked at me as though i should have known better. he called over 2 other agents and they deliberated only to point out that water was the first ingredient and that made the dog food not permitted on board. seriously? my options were to throw it out or check my bag. not wanting a starving dog in florida, i opted for the latter. 

fast forward to our return flight and the 3 of us are once again faced with a tsa agent who is looking at me and not smiling. "please step to the side." again?! this time it was the small container of water that i was carrying for lucy to drink...though i did know better on this one and meant to fill it up after we went through security. zach went back through security to rid us of the offensive water. 

but here's the kicker: once home and unpacking, i was looking in my make-up bag for a lipstick (the same make-up bag that flew with me in the cabin to and from new york) and pulled out a metal pocket knife. all i felt were chills. 

wwcd:  forget the wings, i'm installing an x-ray machine in my house

happy 50th

it's a friend of mine's 50th birthday today. 50. what a big number. i remember thinking i'd never be 50 and that of course happened regardless of what i thought. what's amazing is that it didn't take very long to get  to 50.

each decade represents something different for each of us. my teens were spent exploring boundaries and pushing them. in my 20s i found out how much i love working - while balancing it with a ridiculous amount of running around. my 30s stabilized my life with marriage and zach. and my 40s kept me in love with being a mom, led me to a career i never expected to find, and brought me back to a place i didn't think i'd ever want to revisit, let alone care about as much as i do. and that brings me to my 50s and wondering what this decade holds. even faced with so much change that's happened recently and more to come in the next few years, there is a new sense of calm. yeah, yeah, i know...calm, shmalm...i can laugh harder and cry more easily than ever. so much for the calm.

so with that...tom, i wish for you to remember:

it's a new year. 

decade.

chapter.

with untold opportunities.

adventures.

possibilities.

enjoy it all...each and every minute.

wishing you a very happy birthday.

me

wwcd: maybe i'll save the calm for my 60s