Wednesday, March 3

Tag: History

Tuesday’s Temptation:  Not Being Curious

Tuesday’s Temptation: Not Being Curious

I waffled about what today's post is:  Not Being Curious or Forgetting. It is about how we approach history. Do we forget the unpleasant bits? Or are humans not curious enough to ask questions raising up the unpleasant bits? Maybe both. But for today, I'll go with not being curious. I just got back from Grenada. It is beautiful there. I had no idea what to expect. I have only been to the Caribbean once about 30 years ago when I literally won a trip in a drawing to go to the Cayman Islands. I chose Grenada because we were recommended to go to an all-inclusive resort for a change--we normally camp and do lots of work on vacations. The suggestion was to take it easy, I believe. Also, my hubs was tired of doing so much work during our camping vacations. For once, a little pampering was in o...
Brown Eyes …. Poems in Memory of My Father

Brown Eyes …. Poems in Memory of My Father

poem, poems, Poetry
Hello, Nazim ... Hello! After Nazim Hikmet What happiness that today I can be “open and confident” Though normally I would hide in the safety of feigned ignorance, feign joy, pretend that I can see my clear sky in spite of his clouds Respectfully, I provide the detail requested ... The year is 2016 The month, January This the first Wednesday The hour is 6 a.m. now that i am getting to know you, now that i am chest-high in your poesy it’s your time that interests me ..........1902 ~ You were birthday twins, Nazim You and my mysterious father, born the same year, into the same culture, spent your youth in that turmoil If I study you, Nazim, will I find him, my diffident father, in the dissident roots of your Turkish sensibility ~ they said he left ...
Brooklyn, In Memory Most Green

Brooklyn, In Memory Most Green

history, justice, memoir
The courageous immigrants of the elder generations cast the shards of their hopes and dreams across the landscape of this continent as prophecy. They worked hard and long for their visions. These people included my Lebanese maternal grandparents with their first-born children. They arrived in New York in 1897 on a boat from Syria. They petitioned for citizenship in 1925. Included also was my Turkish father who arrived here alone in 1919. He was just seventeen, eager to make good and to earn dowries for his four older sisters. The distaff side eventually settled in Brooklyn. That's where they were when I was born and that's where I was raised. These were people who came to America in “the days of sail,” as the great New York writer, Irish-American Pete Hamill, would say. Today's ...