Silence Is Not An Option

I have friends who will not particpate in the

upcoming Caucuses in Washington State

because

 their voices are not being heard

they say.

Their actions don’t matter

they tell me.

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I say they no longer take action because

 they are tired of hoping.

I say they no longer speak up

because they are tired of being shouted down.

So this weekend

I will be heard.

I will participate

and I will hope.

I will not have those things taken from me

by anyone.

Ever.

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 yours in defiance 

anita marie moscoso

Snohomish County, Washington State

February 7, 2008

 

The Girl With The Man’s Name

The Girl With The Man’s Name

and her son

Who Could Be Our Next President

 from the Seattle Times, Seattle Washington:

 

Stanley Dunham, in a Mercer Island High annual.

Memories of Obama’s mother

By Nicole Brodeur
Seattle Times staff columnist

This is going to sound strange, Maxine Box says, but 50 years later, she can’t forget it:

Barack Obama’s mother used to crack her knuckles.”Constantly,” Box told me as we sat in her Bellevue home on the eve of Super Tuesday, talking about Stanley Dunham, the girl with the man’s name and the son who could be president of the United States.

Box, 65, was Dunham’s best friend at Mercer Island High School, where they were members of the Class of 1960.

“Obama Mama,” is how they refer to her in the school’s front office when reporters come around. The Mercer Island Reporter. The Chicago Tribune. Staffers got used to pulling out the 1960 yearbook, until it was recently misplaced.

Same with Box’s copy of the yearbook; it’s in her house somewhere.

But it doesn’t matter — the memories are still clear as day.

And Box wants to keep them that way, to somehow honor the friend who died of ovarian cancer in 1995, before she could see what her son would accomplish; that he would become one of the final two Democratic candidates in the race for president.

Politics may divide us, but a mother’s pride, well, that’s a feeling that easily crosses party lines.

“She’d be overwhelmed that he’s done what he’s done,” Box said of her friend. “To think that your child has grown up to be this fine man that so many people love. … “

Box called her friend “Stannie,” a nickname for Stanley. She was named for her father, who wanted a boy — and the girl knew it. As a result, their relationship was strained.

“He was hard on her, in that he picked on her,” Box said of Stanley Dunham, a furniture salesman in downtown Seattle.

“He had a sarcastic humor,” Box said, “and she could give it back.”

Dunham’s mother, Madelyn, a bank employee, was “very quiet and serious” and often protected her daughter from her husband’s sarcasm, Box said. (She is still alive, but the Obama campaign has not made her available for interviews).

Dunham and Box were part of a close group of girls who attended football games and sock hops but didn’t really date. They listened to The Limeliters, The Kingston Trio, The Brothers Four. Their parents played cards together.

Dunham and Box walked home together after school, usually stopping at Box’s house for mint-chocolate cake before Dunham went on to the Shorewood apartments, where she lived with her parents.

“I don’t remember prolonged intellectual discussions,” Box said. “But we were all questioners. It was the feeling of the whole school. We were on the debate team, we knew about current events.”

And they felt “destined” to attend college.

Box wanted to work with children, and got a teaching degree at the University of Washington.

Stannie “was such a good student, very intellectual and above all of us. Not just thinking about boys and clothes.”

When her father took a job selling furniture in Hawaii, Dunham moved with them and enrolled in the University of Hawaii.

Not long after, Dunham wrote Box that she had met a Kenyan grad student named Barack Obama. They married and had a son.

For all the tension Dunham had with her father, Box said, her parents stood by her when her marriage fell apart a few years later.

Dunham eventually remarried an Indonesian man and moved to Jakarta. At one point, she sent her son, Barack, back to Hawaii to live with her parents for a year.

Later, Dunham worked with international relief agencies, focused on women’s development.

Box last saw her friend in 1961, when she visited Seattle on her way from Honolulu to Massachusetts, where her then-husband was attending Harvard.

“She seemed very happy and very proud,” she said. “She had this beautiful, healthy baby. I can see them right now.”

If only Box could see them together again; her friend with her son, the U.S. senator. The husband and father. The presidential candidate.

Obama’s book “The Audacity of Hope” is dedicated “To my Mother, whose loving spirit sustains me still.”

Box has vowed to support Obama.

“And not just because of knowing his mother. I would have the same feelings. But this makes it extra special.”

Nicole Brodeur’s column appears Tuesday and Friday. Reach her at 206-464-2334 or nbrodeur@seattletimes.com.

Hey, bring that yearbook back!

The Return of God Chat

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Oh Hi God!

Guess what me and my friend Max did…

go on guess.

No GUESS.

And none of that knows all sees all stuff.

You have to guess.

Okay- fine be that way, just click the pic

and ye shall know the truth.

I’m On My Way…

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I’m on my way to Super Tuesday…

Here’s a Shiny Toy for you to play with while I’m sitting in front of my TV throwing microwave popcorn at the TV screen as the Poll results come back in and making good use of all those curse words I learned in my foreign language classes back in high-school.

So.

If you’re going to be out in the blogosphere looking for a place to get some news about Super Tuesday this ain’t the place to do it.

I would suggest that if you want information about what’s going on you visit Air America HERE or you could go to BBC and of course if you’re in one of the Super States you should stick with your own local news sources because CNN and FOX sux the big one.

 If you can catch Keith Olbermann  I would say do it, otherwise bag MSNBC too. I don’t know what the heck those guys hope to accomplish by the end of a news-day and I don’t think they do either.

So think of me out here in Washington State scarfing back PEZ and hoping we Americans can do something else besides produce suxy Reality TV shows and monster sized SUV’s.

Do you know what?

I think we can do it.

No fooling.

Here’s to Hope.

See You Wednesday.

amm

Toni Morrison’s Obama Endorsement

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Dear Senator Obama,
This letter represents a first for me–a public endorsement of a
Presidential candidate.

 I feel driven to let you know why I am writing it.
One reason is it may help gather other supporters; another is that this is
one of those singular moments that nations ignore at their peril. I will
not rehearse the multiple crises facing us, but of one thing I am certain:
this opportunity for a national evolution (even revolution) will not come
again soon, and I am convinced you are the person to capture it.

May I describe to you my thoughts? I have admired Senator Clinton for
years. Her knowledge always seemed to me exhaustive; her negotiation of politics expert

.
However I am more compelled by the quality of mind (as far as I can measure it) of a candidate.

I cared little for her gender as a source of my admiration, and the little I did care was based on the fact that no liberal woman has ever ruled in America . Only conservative or “new-centrist” ones are allowed into that realm. Nor do I care very much for your race[s]. I would not support you if that was all you had to offer or because it might make me “proud.”

In thinking carefully about the strengths of the candidates, I stunned
myself when I came to the following conclusion: that in addition to keen
intelligencee, integrity and a rare authenticity, you exhibit something that
has nothing to do with age, experience, race or gender and something I don’t see in other candidates.

 That something is a creative imagination which coupled with brilliance equals wisdom.

 It is too bad if we associate it onlywith gray hair and old age. Or if we call searing vision naivete. Or if webelieve cunning is insight. Or if we settle for finessing cures tailored for each ravaged tree in the forest while ignoring the poisonous landscape that feeds and surrounds it. Wisdom is a gift; you can’t train for it, inherit it, learn it in a class, or earn it in the workplace–that access can foster the acquisition of knowledge, but not wisdom.
 

When, I wondered, was the last time this country was guided by such a
leader? Someone whose moral center was un-embargoed? Someone with courage instead of mere ambition? Someone who truly thinks of his country’scitizens as “we,” not “they”? Someone who understands what it will take tohelp America realize the virtues it fancies about itself, what it
desperately needs to become in the world?

Our future is ripe, outrageously rich in its possibilities. Yet unleashing
the glory of that future will require a difficult labor, and some may be so
frightened of its birth they will refuse to abandon their nostalgia for the
womb.
 

There have been a few prescient leaders in our past, but you are the man for
this time.
Good luck to you and to us.
–Toni Morrison”