What Kind of World?

They watch.

They listen.

* Sammy’s dad is proud of how he almost pushed that bus off the side of the road with his truck. He’s proud because he got confirmation that it was okay and well done. The confirmation of “I love Texas” was all he needed. The boy sees the look of satisfaction on his father’s face. There must be something good about bullying and intimidation.

* The man at the podium mocks a reporter for his disabilities, his inability to use his arms. People laugh. Sarah, the little girl with cerebral palsy sits in a wheelchair, watches.

* I was only two when my mommy said in our native tongue, “It’s okay. We left the bad guys behind. We will be safe here.” But the place was crowded, dirty. People in uniforms yelled. Then they took Mommy away. She hasn’t come back for me. I’m forgetting what she looks like.

* My grandma lives in Kenya. I’ve been to her yellow house and have seen the animals run free on our drives outside of town. Now I’m worried because the President says Grandma lives in a shithole.

* Name-calling is okay now. “He” calls people “irrelevant,” “stupid,” “clown,” “crazy,” “nut job,” “dopey,” “dummy,” “nasty.” So why is my third-grade teacher so mad at me for calling Billy a sucker?

* I try to concentrate on the computer screen where my fourth grade teacher is teaching us about science. But why should I listen if science isn’t real? I hear my parents talking from the living room. They say the president seems to hate everyone who doesn’t look like him or think the way he thinks. They wonder how this man can’t wrap his arms around the saddened, or allow a child touch his head to feel his hair like Obama did. He doesn’t make snow angels in the snow with his children or go to his child’s or grandchild’s recital. Does he have grandchildren? Does his like them? Does he like me? Apparently not.

This author thinks about the children. I grit my teeth, a specific spot on the left side. The headache continues.

photo credit 1

photo credit 2

Dear Russia,(note to self, omit “dear”)

I have your number in more ways than one. The tour company gave us this card before entry into your country in case  of an emergency. I kept it, taped it to my Mac, the one you will probably hack.



Although my husband and I had to be caged during our tour of Moscow a year ago last summer (not allowed to roam around on our own without the Russian guide, who by the way, was more informative about you than you would have liked), we tasted some nice vodka.

But Russia and President Putin? Don’t puff up just yet.

Many buildings, except for some like this one —img_7411

were beautiful.


President Putin, below on the far left, was that you? Trying to mix in and identify with your peeps? Doubtful.



I said, was that you?

I think it was very kind of you, Russia and Mr. Putin, to post these signs of caution.


WATCH YOUR BELONGINGS, your sign said.

Well, I want to tell you this.

Watch your own damn belongings. Keep your paws off my country, out of our democracy, out of our politics and our elections. 

Perhaps the Trump is your string puppet.


But I’m telling you this: Most of us Americans have VERY sharp scissors.

Oh, if you don’t hear from me again, I’m under Federal protection. I’ve heard the accommodations aren’t that bad, considering.