Monday, December 26, 2016
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Monday, November 14, 2016
A Balm in Gilead
The day after the election of "he who shall not be named" a group of 7th graders bounded into my classroom excitedly asking, "What did you think of the election Ms. Cardwell? Are you moving to Canada?" Forgetting my audience, I replied "we survived slavery; we will survive this."
It was a hard week; despite the fact that many of my students were vocal Clinton supporters, I did not feel like discussing politics. The first day I taught the Langston Hughes poem "Let America be America Again" and compared his vision of America's mythological past to the President elect's. The second day we read "The Lottery" and discussed the electoral college in the context of examining the danger of tradition. I can admit that much of what I was trying to communicate went over their heads. After all, many of them have nothing real at stake in the election. Aside from being rich and (mostly) white, they are thirteen.
On Sunday, thanks to a birthday gift from Tahira and Jim, Chloe and I were lucky enough to attend Kathleen Battle's performance of Underground Railroad: a Spiritual Journey at The Metropolitan Opera. The experience was cathartic and much needed. Seeing a black woman on stage kicking aside her floor length burgundy gown with a diamond encrusted heel while singing "Wade in the Water" gave me strength!
And I don't even have words for when Cicely Tyson came out to read Sojourner Truth's "Ain't I a Woman" in a silver wig and a blue organza gown!
Black people certainly showed up and showed out for Kathleen Battle, making up significantly more than half of the audience. There were bald heads, head wraps, and full head weaves; Kinte cloth hoop skirts, tuxedos, and lots of fur! One person sitting next to me lamented about people coming to The Met wearing "dungarees" knowing damn well they are called jeans. The shade was real. Hilarious!
Equally (and deliciously) shady was the diva herself. She steeped onto stage over 30 minutes late showing cleavage AND bare back. Tossing her golden shawl to and fro she immediately began directing the choir, even though there were two choir directors. Returning to The Met after being fired in the 90's for "unprofessional actions," Ms. Battle made it clear before the show even started that it was her stage and her show- and that she planned to run it as she saw fit.
At various times in the performance, Ms. Battle glared at a choir member and pointed at her throat, directed one of her two piano players to quiet down, and even gestured to the audience. Toward the end of the show people began to clap along to one of the more fast paced gospel songs, and she SHUT THAT RIGHT DOWN! Pointing to her ears with both hands she instructed the audience to listen and reminded us that this was The Met and not church! Minutes later she had the entire audience stand for "Lift Every Voice and Sing" and held up the lyrics in the program letting us know that now was our time to be a part of her show! The entire audience of the Met standing for the Negro National Anthem was a powerful feeling.
The music itself was wonderful and I'm sure that I embarrassed Chloe rocking back and forth and singing along, which is quite unlike me. When Ms. Battle sang "I've Been 'Buked and I've Been Scorned" she voiced the collective sadness everyone in the audience. Her voice was a more airy and delicate soprano than I expected, and she often puffed on what looked like a sparkly inhaler. In the second half of the performance Ms. Battle left most of the vocal heavy lifting to members of the magnificent choir. However, as if to dispel any talk of fading glory, Ms. Battle sang multiple encores with just a harp and piano.
All and all it was a 3.5 hour show; it reminded me that the purpose of spirituals was resistance-both physical and emotional. The only two words Ms. Battle spoke were "For Tamir Rice" before she sang "Mary had a Baby." We survived slavery; we will survive this.
Check out more pictures from The Met at my new favorite website LAST NIGHT AT the MET
It was a hard week; despite the fact that many of my students were vocal Clinton supporters, I did not feel like discussing politics. The first day I taught the Langston Hughes poem "Let America be America Again" and compared his vision of America's mythological past to the President elect's. The second day we read "The Lottery" and discussed the electoral college in the context of examining the danger of tradition. I can admit that much of what I was trying to communicate went over their heads. After all, many of them have nothing real at stake in the election. Aside from being rich and (mostly) white, they are thirteen.
On Sunday, thanks to a birthday gift from Tahira and Jim, Chloe and I were lucky enough to attend Kathleen Battle's performance of Underground Railroad: a Spiritual Journey at The Metropolitan Opera. The experience was cathartic and much needed. Seeing a black woman on stage kicking aside her floor length burgundy gown with a diamond encrusted heel while singing "Wade in the Water" gave me strength!
And I don't even have words for when Cicely Tyson came out to read Sojourner Truth's "Ain't I a Woman" in a silver wig and a blue organza gown!
Black people certainly showed up and showed out for Kathleen Battle, making up significantly more than half of the audience. There were bald heads, head wraps, and full head weaves; Kinte cloth hoop skirts, tuxedos, and lots of fur! One person sitting next to me lamented about people coming to The Met wearing "dungarees" knowing damn well they are called jeans. The shade was real. Hilarious!
 |
| Chloe got lots of compliments on her crewcuts dress! |
Equally (and deliciously) shady was the diva herself. She steeped onto stage over 30 minutes late showing cleavage AND bare back. Tossing her golden shawl to and fro she immediately began directing the choir, even though there were two choir directors. Returning to The Met after being fired in the 90's for "unprofessional actions," Ms. Battle made it clear before the show even started that it was her stage and her show- and that she planned to run it as she saw fit.
At various times in the performance, Ms. Battle glared at a choir member and pointed at her throat, directed one of her two piano players to quiet down, and even gestured to the audience. Toward the end of the show people began to clap along to one of the more fast paced gospel songs, and she SHUT THAT RIGHT DOWN! Pointing to her ears with both hands she instructed the audience to listen and reminded us that this was The Met and not church! Minutes later she had the entire audience stand for "Lift Every Voice and Sing" and held up the lyrics in the program letting us know that now was our time to be a part of her show! The entire audience of the Met standing for the Negro National Anthem was a powerful feeling.
The music itself was wonderful and I'm sure that I embarrassed Chloe rocking back and forth and singing along, which is quite unlike me. When Ms. Battle sang "I've Been 'Buked and I've Been Scorned" she voiced the collective sadness everyone in the audience. Her voice was a more airy and delicate soprano than I expected, and she often puffed on what looked like a sparkly inhaler. In the second half of the performance Ms. Battle left most of the vocal heavy lifting to members of the magnificent choir. However, as if to dispel any talk of fading glory, Ms. Battle sang multiple encores with just a harp and piano.
All and all it was a 3.5 hour show; it reminded me that the purpose of spirituals was resistance-both physical and emotional. The only two words Ms. Battle spoke were "For Tamir Rice" before she sang "Mary had a Baby." We survived slavery; we will survive this.
Check out more pictures from The Met at my new favorite website LAST NIGHT AT the MET
Friday, November 4, 2016
Floor to Ceiling Blackness: Kerry James Marshall @ The MET Bruer
Mastry, a retrospective of works of art by Kerry James Marshall, features more than 75 paintings and photographs. Marshall's work depicts men and women painted in various shades of black (Marshall has created seven separate tones). Vibrant color and gold glitter enhance the beauty and power of his subjects. During our recent visit to the exhibit, Chloe pointed out that many of the paintings almost look 3-D, owing to Marshall's skill at creating the illusion of depth in his work.
Marshall's paintings tell the story of blacks in America, focusing on less well known aspects of that history: instead of depicting cotton fields, he focuses on slave rebellion. Instead of painting overt racial violence he illustrates restrictive housing covenants. His work shows the private and public spaces in which blacks operate where whites exist on the periphery, if at all. Ironically, there were very few people of color at the exhibit on the Sunday Chloe, my mother, and I visited. Stepping off the elevator and being greeted with floor to ceiling blackness is worth the price of the ticket. Go see it!
Kerry James Marshall: Mastry
The MET Breuer
October 25th-January 29th 2017
Saturday, October 29, 2016
I'm a Lucky Girl!
"When do we start?"
Huh? No greeting? No initial compliment designed to catch my attention and signal that the games had begun. Simply . . .
"When do we start?"
Roberto's first message on match.com gave me the impression that he was talking to several women at once and getting us mixed up (he swears he wasn't). Consequently, I didn't approach him with the wild romanticism that had been my hallmark. However, he was handsome and he messaged me first so I responded.
Our first messages were pretty standard internet dating fare: exaggerating how much we exercise, talking about favorite restaurants and tv shows, pretending that we exited all of our past relationships with grace, and that all doors had been closed kindly, but firmly behind us.
He set up our first date right away (in the realm of internet dating if you don't meet right away you risk falling for a figment of your imagination). He was at the restaurant before I was and I saw him sitting by the window. He gave me a cursory head nod through the glass, and when I sat down his body language told me that he was not interested. I feared that I would not see him again, but he slowly warmed up and then he asked,
"When am I going to see you again?"
In the year since our first date Roberto and I have had plenty of adventures. The thing that I appreciate the most about him is that he is an introvert like I am, but he researches and plans interesting, fun things for us to do. We have been to Broadway plays and dine in movie theaters; outlet shopping and a trip to the Poconos. We have walked across The Brooklyn Bridge and visited every Botanical Garden in the city. We have travelled to Brooklyn just for ice cream and visited every playground recommended by Timeout New York and Mommy Poppins. Roberto's investment of time in our relationship and his desire to please me is what makes him special.
I would like to be able to share a secret formula for landing a man like Roberto; a list of dos and don'ts for being in a good relationship. Unfortunately, I have no such wisdom to share. Timing worked in our favor. Like every relationship, we have bad days when the consequences of our prior relationship choices make life challenging. At times our children struggle to understand where they fit in with each other. Occasionally, he speaks to me in his cop voice, I respond in my teacher voice and he gets scared and backs down (ha ha). However, through difficult transitions I have never seen him lose his temper. That’s what makes him such a good cop. He understands the art of negotiation.
My life was good before Roberto and it has only become more full since he has come into it. Here's to another amazing year!
Roberto made this video to celebrate our first year together!
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