Treatise on Women Presidents

The wind today is crazy. Water sprays up out of puddles and it sounds like the windows are going to break from the force of all that air flying about.

But I have some good news.

Trevor is not going to Iraq. 25 of the 35 in his division are. He's one of the lucky ten. So he proposed to his girlfriend, Lena. I only hope we can make it down to TN for the wedding.

I first met Trevor when I first started dating Michael. Trevor was one of the, I daresay, large number of Michael's friends who were afraid of me because I'm a feminist. Not really sure what that would entail, but pretty sure from all the horror-stories that it was gonna be bad, these guys cowered from me. And it was funny.

Trevor came out of it first when, during a random conversation one night, he declared, "It's not that women CAN'T be President. Women don't WANT to be President. Because then there would be no war. And that would be f--king boring." And I laughed and I wrote it down and I quoted it in Scribbling Mob, the feminist magazine I was editing at the time.

Trevor calls me Gorgeous, and he really likes Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, so we have lots of geeky stuff to talk about whenever we see each other, much to Michael's displeasure, since he could do without Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings.

I've been really worried about him since we were home this summer and he told us about his odds of going to Iraq in January. I danced around for ten minutes when I heard the good news.

In other good news, I went to my first meeting with the Latino Coalition for Prevention yesterday, and I joined the GLBTQ committee. My official title with HOPE Program now is Public Relations... um... Master? Czar? Something or other. I came to be in charge of it because Yesica is more of an introver than I am. So now I'm in charge of recruiting schools to get presentations, etc. Going well thusfar. Michael and I are going to the Holy Cross Banquet tonight. And I've been super-busy with tutoring lately, and I am going to help one of my theatre girls sculpt a bust of Edgar Allen Poe any minute now...

The bad with the good

Bad things first, because I want to end on a good note. But be warned: bad stuff takes up most of this entry.

When lots of things start going wrong, it becomes increasingly important to remind yourself of all the good things that life has to offer. That was why last night at Theatre, we started out by going around the circle and saying our names and something that reminds us of the goodness of humanity. Then we began to prepare ourselves for the Halloween party by crafting the ghost stories we will tell-- what parts are just spoken, what parts are acted, etc. The class was a general success, except that long about 7:30, some gangbangers who had been banging on the outside door all night broke out a window. They took off running. One of my girls got a cut on her wrist that wasn't too bad and we bandaged it up okay.

Right now, I can hear Felipe downstairs boarding up the window. It had bars on it so they just left it open all night. And the window, they decided, didn't serve much purpose anyway, so they're just going to replace it with wood instead of glass.

Other things going on with my teens:

-One of them is in a perpetually bad mood which I try to convince him does have something to do with him going full days without eating. He's nineteen, in college, and is upset that he hasn't found someone to marry yet. I remember feeling that way, like nothing would ever fit. He talks to me a lot about his family and the women in his life and says that I'm like free therapy because I listen without interrupting.

-One of them, a straight-A student who hides from her friends how smart she is, is on the verge of joining a gang for reasons such as, "Everybody's up in my fucking business," and "That's just how it is." Those aren't reasons I can argue with, so instead I give her other places to belong. She's in my Theatre group and my Art group. She's also an alter server. Has been for years.

-One of them has a female friend with an unspecified problem that is not pregnancy. He's been scowling all week and refusing to talk about it, but I can tell he's close to opening up. Whatever it is, he's ready to bust someone's ass over it. He's started wearing gang colors recently, but swears to me that he's "staying away from that shit." He doesn't wear the colors of any particular gang, which is probably more dangerous considering the colors he wears sometimes in this neighborhood. I know that he's waiting for something bad to happen to him so that his dad will wake up and realize he needs to look out for his son. But it's not going to happen. His dad waking up, I mean. What do you do with a kid who wants to get shot but who doesn't have a death wish?

-One of them, I think, tried to commit suicide this week.

At work, the office has emptied out and is filling up with new people taking over offices. Some of the neighborhood guys have been hired to clean and paint and the building is heavy with fumes of various sorts. There was a huge audit of the after-school program yesterday everything was just crazy. It only further added to my mood.

At home, we've got a wacko causing troubles. I take that back. She's not a wacko. I lived with this woman for a couple of weeks. I may not like her all too much, especially not now, but she's not a wacko. So let me rephrase. We've got a disgruntled former volunteer causing troubles.

Helen left, which I think I diplomatically mentioned in my last entry. She left without trying to resolve her issues with us, and then she started calling to complain that we had ruined the experience for her. She called the house. She called John, our director. She called Eddie, the Provincial. Calling to complain is one thing. I never would have even mentioned that here, because to me, that's not a big dead at all.

But dude, she has crossed the line now. She called Americorps, which John assures me is no mean feat since he has trouble getting in contact with them. She gave them a list of bizarre accusations that almost... if you squint your eyes and cock your head just so... reading them translated into Swahili... almost have a basis in reality. I know that nothing really will come from it, other than a minor to major hassle, but my community is now under governmental investigation. I don't know what this will entail. We might receive a letter in the mail and have to send back a signed statement saying that we are not against the President during Americorps time, and that we are not teaching people that America started World War II.

As Michael said, Helen is like the Thought Police. She complained to Americorps that we were against the President and say that America started WWII. And aside from the absolute absurdity of that second part, why the hell would she take it upon herself to report our opinions or beliefs? She also said that we were distributing campaign materials. And now, I can totally see how our zine would be considered campaign materials, since it is against the Bush administration and all. But we did that at home-- on our own time. She watched us do it at home. She never even visited our job sites to see what we do during the day. Americorps' "do not be political" policy has only to do with what we do during our service hours, which means that nothing will come from this but a hassle. She really is just trying to make things hard for us.

I told Michael Wednesday night that Helen was gone and it was done and that was that, and that I did not feel bitter or resentful toward her. Michael said, "Kati, Helen is a hateful woman who will do anything in her power to hurt the community." And I waved him off. And then Thursday night I came home from work to hear this garbage.

I'm bitter and resentful toward Helen now. But even still, the most I'll do is complain about it in my blog. I'm not going to call the NAACP and report that she's racist.

Oh... did I say that? I didn't mean to. Even though she is.

Okay. I feel better now. I've ranted and complained and stamped around like a petulant child. I've vented and gotten it all off my chest, and that is a nice feeling. With what's going on with my teens, things weren't too great before Thursday night, but since then, I've been wandering around wide-eyed in a vortex of overwhelmed stress. I talked to Dad last night about Helen, and he was kind and familiar and that really made me feel better, but I couldn't bring myself to say out loud all my stresses about my teens, so I couldn't get comfort about that. But it'll all be fine, and here's why:

-Even with the broken window last night, Theatre went really well. Not everyone in the group likes each other, but they all get along really well, and they open up and talk about things with each other, and they make no bones about the fact that they all enjoy coming, they all enjoy seeing each other, and they all feel like they really belong when they're together. They came up with a lot of good reasons to remember the goodness of humanity. The people I mentioned above, even with all their problems, came up with a lot of good things. Hope is never gone.

-I successfully tutored a Junior in Physics yesterday afternoon. And, despite my inherent fear of Physics, I knew what I was talking about and actually helped him. He smiled and said Thank You a lot.

-I taught myself a new computer program so that I could teach one of my teens how to complete one of her homework assignments. She had been dreading this project, but finished it in twenty minutes, even improving upon the basics that I taught her.

-One of the guys who was in my art class last year, who is now at DePaul University on full scholarship, came to me for help in his English class. He kept getting low grades because he had trouble with thesis statements. After we worked through that, he told me he was kicking ass in Philosophy. Last year I converted him to existentialism. I told him that my next goal was to make him a Socialist. He said, "Okay, what's that?" I briefly explained it and he said that he had been told that that was the first step in life after he became a lawyer. But then when the money started coming in, he'd do an about-face and forget about the little guy.

-And another thing... I mentioned briefly to Sr. Angie about what was happening with Helen. Really, I just wanted her to know. I wanted to see if maybe she could offer some insight into why someone would do something like that. She did eventually, but first, she nodded immediately, saying, "I'll testify for you." And even though that wasn't what I had been looking for, it was nice to know that someone had my back.

Consciousness is a bizarre thing

I was riding in the bus today, looking out the window into the cool blue October sky, musing once again at the amazingness of conscious thought. I don't really understand how it works, or why it is so individual to one person. 'Why can't I swap realities with the person in front of me,' I wondered. 'Why not with someone across the world? Why do my thoughts stay attached to this mind, to this body?'

And I was tempted to think that it had something to do with a soul, but then I started thinking about lesser animals that supposedly have no soul. I mean, you could reasonably argue the possibility that the consciousness of gnats are free to hop from gnat to gnat, or that maybe they share their consciousness so that they're all really the same conscious being, just in many different places at once. But those arguments would never work for something more complex, like a dog for instance. I mean, there are very clearly good dogs and bad dogs. They don't change from day to day as another dog's consciousness enters and leaves, off to experience life nosing through the garbage of France. And dogs are obviously different enough from each other so that one can tell that each dog's consciousness is personal to itself.

So that means that either, a) personal consciousness is not tied in with a person's soul, or b) animals have souls too, which means that I have been eating something that had a soul before it was slaughtered and packaged and put in my dinner.

Then I got off the bus and my mind moved on to other things, such as...

There is a major restructuring going on at Holy Cross right now. Several of the organizations that had been housed in my building are moving location to Second Chance Alternative High School not too far from here, leaving all these offices open to new mentors and what-not that are being hired. I will not get one of these offices. My office is the computer lab. I will probably still not get a desk. And I will probably still not get a filing cabinet either. I hate having to carry everything I need with me back and forth from home to work everyday. But my desire to have a secure place to leave my things is not on the forefront of the minds of the higher-ups in charge of such things.

So I did the only thing I knew to do: I complained to the receptionists. Now, it is common knowledge of anyone who has ever bothered to pay attention that offices, businesses, even major corporations, are not run by the bosses, the managers, the CEOs. They are run by the secretaries.

I first mentioned to Sr. Angie sometime around January or February that I would like to have a desk with a lock. She said she could probably get me a filing cabinet. I said that would be great. I got nothing.

But last week, I mentioned to the receptionists my dilemma, and voila! Today I came in and Luz told me she had cleaned out a cabinet, previously filled with junk, for me. It has a lock and everything and I need only get "official" permission to use it and it's mine.

I'm telling you-- secretaries and librarians run the world. If only we could get rid of CEOs and politicians, everything would be perfect.

And also, on another unrelated topic, Helen moved out last week. She went home. It was a pretty sudden move, although not entirely unexpected. She was unhappy, and everyone knew it even though she wouldn't admit it to anyone. Last Friday I called home to let Michael know I would be late. One of my roommates told me over the phone that she had heard from another roommate, who had heard from another roommate, who had heard from another roommate, who had heard from another roommate, who had heard from Helen herself that she was going to go home on Sunday. I was the last to know-- but not because of any prejudices along the rumor mill line-- just because I work late on Fridays. But anyway, we weren't supposed to know. It was a secret. But I figured, hey, it had gone this far. So I turned to the receptionist on duty as I hung up the phone and I said, "Maria, one of my housemates is moving out." And then I told my Theatre Group too, and they said, "Oh. What time does the carwash start?" and I told them and half of them said they'd be late.

So Saturday afternoon, Helen told a few others of us that she was going to leave, and Sunday morning she rented a car and was gone. Sunday night at dinner, people were laughing. Open, all-out laughing, and that hadn't happened really yet this year. And everyone started talking and I realized that Helen had been perceived as a bit of a bully by several of my community members, and they had been afraid to really be open while she was around, and it reminded me of my experience with Valerie last year. All the same, I kind of wish things had worked out. But it was not to be. So community has started over, now with six members.

I'm working on three different stories right now that have to do with consciousness, and I suppose that is why I'm contemplating so much the way different people think and react. Plus, when you add in what is going on at work, and what is going on at home, there are all these people's feelings and experiences in flux, trying to get sorted out. And nobody seems to know what they are doing.

I don't know what I'm doing next year. I'm not even sure anymore that I know what I WANT to do next year. I dreamt last night that Michael and I were leaving Chicago, but I hadn't been able to bring myself to say goodbye to all the young adults I've worked with since I've been here. I was on a bus, and they knew that I would be leaving, but they didn't know I had already left. I saw them by the side of the road as we drove away, and I was crying because I hadn't had the nerve to say goodbye.

I woke up and I thought, 'Wow. That means so many things.'

Wasting My Mind

On a completely different subject, Angel came into the computer lab yesterday and said, "What are you doing?"

"Reading," I said.

"Ah, you're always reading," he groaned accusingly. "You shouldn't waste your mind like that."

I said, "I'm not wasting my mind."

He said, "Yes you are! You should be playing video games or something like that."

I countered, "Oh, you mean I would NOT be wasting my mind playing video games?"

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "You should be storing up your thoughts for when you really need them."

It's no secret...

... that I don't like President Bush. Everything about the man grates on my nerves-- his politics, his simplistic view of life, his pronunciation of the words "America" and "nuclear", his backing by PNAC, his shady background of insider trading, failing oil companies that made money nonetheless, going AWOL and having daddy cover it up, cocaine addiction, and his scant political background in (let's face it) the easiest Governer post in the US since Texas is set up so that the Governer is little more than a figurehead. I hate that he has negated, nullified, or created large enough loopholes for corporate buddies so that he might as well have negated or nullified, nearly every environmental regulation the US has. And I hate that he has hidden those moves under pro-environment names like Clear Skies Initiative, and Healthy Forests Initiative. I hate that he lied to our country about the information he used to go to war in Iraq (although granted, I think I'm a little more angry at the American people for falling in line behind him and calling people like me--who pointed out that the intelligence that was published at the time was very clearly forged or misrepresented since it said the exact opposite of what Bush and his cronies claimed it was saying--unpatriotic wackos who should just get the hell out of the country). I hate that Bush has fought tooth and nail against the grossly underfunded 9/11 Commission every step of the way, and invoked the tragedy of 9/11 to pass some of the most distructive legislation our country has ever seen.

But what I hate most about him is that I truly, truly believe that his is just too simpleminded to realize what exactly he has done. I think most of this stuff happened because of the people standing behind him (most of whom are in PNAC), because I really do believe the Bush, the President of the United States, really just isn't smart enough to see past his good versus evil rhetoric that leaves no room for the many, many complications, points of view, and shades of grey that exist in this world.

So I watched the debates last night, and, my God. I have never been so embarrassed as I was as I watched Bush repeatedly try and fail to articulate a clear thought. I was cringing, I had my hand over my mouth, shaking my head, feeling so embarrassed on behalf of this man. And I whispered over and over to the screen, "Honey, just stop talking." But just like when I was watching the movie Swingers, wanting so desperately for dude to stop calling the girl over and over again, Bush just wouldn't stop talking, and he kept saying stupid things that were complete non sequitors to the topic at hand. He just wouldn't stop.

And I guess that says a lot about his Presidency. He just keeps plugging right on, being a daft fool and making terrible mistakes, but he keeps right on. Because he has to. Because PNAC tells him he has to. And you know, whether Bush is or not, PNAC really is (I am not exaggerating) trying to take over the world. And PNAC owns this country so long as Bush is in office.

I do have to say, though, on Bush's behalf, he did manage to pronounce the word "vociferously" correctly. But what he said was that the Iraqis "were fighting vociferously". I mean, what does that mean? They're too loud? Are they keeping him up at night or something? I don't get it.

Regardless, I'm feeling better about Kerry. Not because I like his policies, because many of them I do not. In many ways, I think Kerry and Bush really are on the same side-- not even two sides of the same coin. The same side. But I do think that Kerry is smart enough to understand the implications of everything he might do while President, and that is far more than I can say for Bush.

But I still don't know that I'm going to vote for him. Illinois is a liberal state, and I think Kerry will win here regardless of who I vote for. So maybe some third party candidate will catch my eye because s/he believes in what I believe. And maybe that third party candidate will get five percent of the vote so that next election, I won't feel that I have to vote for a lizard just so the wrong lizard doesn't get in.

And if anyone got that lizard reference, my hat off to you. Douglass Adams rocks.