July 3: "Spring at Blackwater: I Go Through the Lessons Already Learned," Independence Day Eve, These Truths

Mary Oliver holds these lessons to be self-evident . . . 

Spring at Blackwater:  I Go Through the Lessons Already Learned

by:  Mary Oliver

He gave the fish

her coat of foil,

and her soft eggs.

He made the kingfisher's 

quick eye

and her peerless, terrible beak.

He made the circles

of the days and the seasons

to close tightly,

and forever--

then open again.

Yes, I borrowed words from Thomas Jefferson for my introduction on this Independence Day Eve as my neighbors shoot off their fireworks and my puppy cowers by her cage, staring at me with terrified eyes.

Oliver's lessons have nothing to do with equality or life or liberty.  However, they do have something to do with the pursuit of happiness.  Nothing makes Oliver happier than pursuing the wonders of nature--from foiled fish to the spinning of the seasons.  Nature is proof of the divine for Oliver.  Forests and seas, there are her cathedrals.

Tomorrow, the citizens of the United States celebrate Independence Day with parades and barbecues and fireworks.  It's a pretty big deal, even though the country has never really lived up to the primary ideal of the Declaration of Independence:  that we're all created equal.  History can back me up on this fact, from slavery to Stonewall.  We have a bad habit of marginalizing and killing individuals who have the wrong color skin or love the wrong people or question gender definitions/differences.

I have been an educator for over 30 years now.  I can't tell you how many lessons I've taught.  Harder still:  I don't know how much of a difference I've made in my students' lives.  I've taught mythology and film, poetry and research, literature and narrative writing.  Through my entire academic career, I've tried to instill in my pupils a love for nature and the environment, per Mary Oliver.  I've also thrown in a healthy dose of respect for all creatures, great and small, human and nonhuman.

I learned these lessons over many years.  I grew up with a father who was racist and homophobic.  Of course, he was a product of his own upbringing, so I can't be angry with him.  From a young age, he was taught this kind of hate.  As a young person myself, I swallowed my embarrassment when my dad told his "jokes" to my friends.  When I became a parent, however, I started putting my foot down.  I wanted to break the cycle, and I think I did.  My kids are loving and accepting, and I'm incredibly lucky for that.

The world needs more Mary Oliver lessons, less John Birch Society lessons.  (Yes, my father was a member of that organization, as well.  If you've never heard the name John Birch before, count your blessings.)  More spring at Blackwater lessons, less Andrew Jackson lessons.

That's Saint Marty's self-evident truth tonight.

July 2: Might Not Happen, Independence Day Parade and Fireworks, Freedom

Santiago thinks a good thing, but does not say it aloud . . .

Then he will turn and swallow it, he thought. He did not say that because he knew that if you said a good thing it might not happen. He knew what a huge fish this was and he thought of him moving away in the darkness with the tuna held crosswise in his mouth. At that moment he felt him stop moving but the weight was still there. Then the weight increased and he gave more line. He tightened the pressure of his thumb and finger for a moment and the weight increased and was going straight down.

"He's taken it," he said. "Now I'll let him eat it well."

I understand Santiago's reasoning here.  As a matter of fact, I hold the same belief.  When I think that something positive should or will happen, I avoid actually putting breath and words to that thing.  It's the kiss of death.  It almost guarantees epic failure.  That's why most authors are pretty superstitious regarding talking about their current writing projects.

Today, my hometown celebrated Independence Day with a parade, community picnic, and fireworks at dusk.  This morning, I watched the parade with people I love--family members who make me laugh and feel blessed.  This evening, I sat on a grassy hillside, listened to some bad bands, ate snow cones and kettle corn, and enjoyed the rockets red glare.  It was sort of a perfect day.

Yet, as I said last night, this Independence Day feels different to me.  Less free.  Usually, I think of this holiday as a time that unites citizens of the United States, regardless of politics.  I know that this country has been flawed since its inception.  Stolen from Indigenous peoples.  Built on the backs of slaves.  Ruled by white male privilege.  Freedom has been relative in this land since that little document penned by Thomas Jefferson was signed.

The United States has been an experiment since its inception.  Lately, that experiment has been corrupted.  Do I believe that I'm witnessing the downfall of my country?  At times, yes.  Today, however, seeing everyone gathered to celebrate the signing of a document that most citizens of this country have never even fully read, I can still feel a sense of hope for better and kinder times.

I'm not going to put that hope into specific words.  I am not Thomas Jefferson, and I'm not about to turn this post into some kind of Declaration of Hope for my flawed homeland.  That would be an enterprise destined to fail.  You see, until everyone starts recognizing those flaws and tries to fix them, we won't ever be truly united.  We'll remain doomed to an existence much like our present time, where racism and homophobia and xenophobia and misogyny infest all parts of society and government.

But I do have hope for my country this Independence Day weekend.  We can be better.  I know this.  We've been trying to be better for almost 250 years now.  Let freedom ring this July 4th for everyone.  For my daughter, who now has to refight battles that were won in the Supreme Court over 50 years ago.  For my son, who may have to join in his own Stonewall riot.  For everyone who isn't male and white and Christian.  

Hope belongs to everyone.  So does independence.

There's a verse in the song "America the Beautiful" that goes like this:  "America!  America!  God mend thine every flaw!"

That's Saint Marty's refrain tonight.

July 1: What a Fish, Holiday Weekend, Liberty

The fish takes Santiago's bait . . . 

"He can't have gone," he said. "Christ knows he can't have gone. He's making a turn. Maybe he has been hooked before and he remembers something of it."

Then he felt the gentle touch on the line and he was happy.

"It was only his turn," he said. "He'll take it."

He was happy feeling the gentle pulling and then he felt something hard and unbelievably heavy. It was the weight of the fish and he let the line slip down, down, down, unrolling off the first of the two reserve coils. As it went down, slipping lightly through the old man's fingers, he still could feel the great weight, though the pressure of his thumb and finger were almost imperceptible.

"What a fish," he said. "He has it sideways in his mouth now and he is moving off with it."

What a day.

Full of sun and warmth and sky.  As I sat working in my office, I watched the sunlight track through the trees and over the Methodist church across the street as the hours passed.  When I got to the library at 8 a.m., it was about 59 degrees.  When I left, it was in the low 70s.

Today begins a long holiday weekend in the United States.  Independence Day.  July 4th.  It's when the citizens of my country are supposed to celebrate the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776.  That's the document, written by Thomas Jefferson, that begins, in part, with this sentence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness . . . 

Certain unalienable rights.  Life.  Liberty.  The pursuit of Happiness.  The way I understand these words, Jefferson is saying that everyone deserves to live a life of freedom and happiness.  The United States Constitution, ratified a little over 11 years later, begins with these words:

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

Again, the Blessings of Liberty are guaranteed, not only to the dead white guys who wrote the Constitution, but to their children and children's children and children's children's children.  You get the idea.  Each and every citizen of the United States is guaranteed the Blessings of Liberty.  Including women, who now make up 50.52% of the nation's population.  Now, it's been a long time since I've taken a math class, but, by my calculations, that means that men make up 49.48% of the country.  

That means that men are in the minority.

I'm going to be playing the organ at three different church services this weekend (one Catholic, two Lutheran).  There is going to be the normal array of quasi-religious/patriotic hymns sung.  "America the Beautiful" and "Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory."  This morning, someone suggested that we sing "The Star Spangled Banner" at one of those church services.  I made a joke, saying that only Whitney Houston could hit the high notes.  When the issue was pressed further, I replied a little more directly:  "I prefer not to."

I live in a country right now where the majority of its citizens have had their freedoms taken away by the highest court in the land.  I'm not seeing a whole lot of the Blessings of Liberty and unalienable rights these days.  In fact, it seems to me that those rights have become alienable, at least for people with vaginas.

The reason that I'm able to express myself like this is that I am guaranteed freedom of speech.  I can say and write whatever I want without fear of imprisonment.  I can be as offensive as I want to be, as long as I don't cross the line into hate speech.  Thank you, dead white guys.  If you don't like what you're reading right now, move along.

I won't be playing "The Star Spangled Banner" this weekend.  Won't be singing it, either.  Instead, I will offer up prayers for the females in my life.  And for my friends and family who are LGTBQ+.  Because they have very clearly received the message that they are not part of "We the People" who deserve "Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness."  

Think about that while you're barbecuing your hot dogs and hamburgers this weekend.  While you're watching parades and fireworks.  And remember this quote from Lutheran pastor Martin Niemoller about Nazi Germany:

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out--because I was not a communist;

Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out--because I was not a socialist;

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out--because I was not a trade unionist;

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--because I was not a Jew;

Then they came for me--and there was no one left to speak out for me.

Just a reminder of the price of lost freedom.  We all need to speak out.  Now.

Saint Marty wishes everyone reading these words Life, Liberty, and Happiness this Independence Day weekend.