mes rêves de paris

on racism and denial

2006-11-23T13:46:00.000-05:00

By now, I'm sure many have seen or heard about this sad excuse of an apology from Michael Richards.

I wasn't the least bit surprised when I heard about his "racist tirade." We all (should) know racism still exists. It's just not as overt as it was years past...although I would argue that the pendulum is swinging back the other way of late. The fact that Richards tries to write off his comments as "anger" and not racism is typical of the politically-correct society we live in today. We Americans know it's not PC to say we're racist. So when someone like Richards does something like this, he can say "I'm not racist. I was just angry." But the comments have to originate from somewhere. Racism is learned and is deeply deeply engrained in the American psyche. Denial will get us nowhere.

Rest in Peace

2006-10-22T06:03:00.000-04:00

for my cousins who were taken away to soon
we know you're in a better place

we will miss you

adoption making headlines

2006-10-18T16:35:00.000-04:00

...but for the wrong reason...

The latest frenzy over Madonna's adoption of the Malawian child caused me to ponder the reasons why people are so worked up about this. Is it because ...?

a) a white family is adopting an orphaned black baby,
b) an American expat is adopting an African child,
c) that an exorbitant amount of money was spent to execute the adoption,
d) that an African child is being removed from his native land,
e) that a celebrity as had the rules bent in her favor, or
f) all of the above (and some more)

Knowing full well, it's a combination of the above, I'll ignore the various permutations and will consider points A and E below. This isn't to say the others don't deserve attention, but these are the two most prominent views expressed in the British media at the moment, and the economist in me would like to simplify the model if she may.

A) a white family is adopting an orphaned black baby

In reality, there are two factors to be considered here -- race of the family and the child AND the age of the child to be adopted -- but my attention will only be to the former.

Frankly, I have no problem with any family of any race/ethnicity/color providing a loving home to a child in need. My own grandmother was orphaned at the age of 5, and with no relatives willing or able to take her in, she was raised by a well-to-do white woman in the southern-most town in Alabama in the 1920s. (Not a decade known for biracial adoptions, but this woman happened to find my granny abandoned in the property she owned.)

The wealth and race of that woman had both tremendous advantages and disadvantages for my grandmother. She was moved, overnight, out of a life of poverty and into a life of stability and relative comfort -- access to education, clean and neat clothing, regular meals, a room of her own. She'd previously been living in a one-room shack sharing a bed with her 11-yr-old uncle -- the two of them alone with no adult supervision or care.

But of course, in the 1920s, there weren't too many whites or blacks pleased with the idea of a white (and rich) woman taking in a poor black child -- especially one who she treated as her own daughter rather than a servant. So my grandmother was the target of a great deal of violence, bullying, and abuse. No one dared harm her so long as her new guardian was around, but the minute my grandmother was on her own, all hell broke loose. That said, were it not for her adoption, who knows what her fate would have been? I'm just grateful she was adopted by someone who gave her unconditional love. Could really care less what the woman looked like or what race she was.

I'm not saying there aren't valid reasons for us to worry about the cultural ties lost when a child of color is adopted by a white family, but are those reasons enough to deny a child the right to a family at all? I think not. (There is the obvious exception for cases when families intentionally try to reprogram minority children because they think the child's cultural ties are somehow inferior...I'm thinking of the case of Native children adopted by Mormon families in Utah years past.)

Enough on that point, let's move to the second big issue...

E) a celebrity has had the rules bent in her favor

Really? Wow, that's the first time this has happened!

Okay, I'm not really trying to be flippant about this one, but let's just have some perspective here. What government have you known NOT to give in to a special interest when the incentives and benefits are attractive enough? Are we really surprised by this one?

On the one hand, we should be concerned if policies and procedures weren't followed, regardless of who the adoptive parents are. On the other hand, it brings to light how complex and difficult and political adoptions can be. In the US, becoming a foster parent is a relative breeze, but adopting is damn near impossible in some cases. We have to strike the right balance between ensuring the child will go into a safe home (and not be trafficked, for example) versus making the process so difficult that otherwise good, willing families are turned off from trying to go through with it. Might this explain why quite a large number of families spend loads of money to adopt foreign babies? Surely there are other reasons as well, not the least of them socio-political and racial, but this too may well be one of them.

I fully intend to adopt when I am able to provide a good home to a child. My motivations are a bit selfish -- my granny was adopted, and she all but legally adopted me and my sister when our mother wasn't able to provide for us. Personally, I'd much rather adopt an older child and probably more than one. The children's birthplace won't matter much to me, but regardless, I'll do my best to raise them to realize their fullest potential.

food for thought from the wall of Bene Bene

2006-04-02T05:08:00.000-04:00

I saw this quote on the wall at my fave organic foods restaurant:

"We are living in a world today where lemonade is made from artificial flavours and furniture polish is made from real lemons." --Arthur E. Newman

true, true.

I may very well need to settle permanently in London...

2006-02-18T14:34:00.000-05:00

if I want to be able to afford to send my future daughter to my alma mater in California.

My high school was featured in a LA Times article because it is increasing tuition by 6% to over $25,000 a year. When I was a student there, tuition was a staggering $15,000. Fortunately for me, I was on full financial aid. Unfortunately for my children, they probably won't be.

The fact that the tuition at private secondary schools is rising so dramatically troubles me for more than just what it may mean for my offspring. As a former public school teacher and a child of the inner city, I can't help but fear this signals a growing divide between the haves and the have-nots (in Los Angeles, at least).

Don't get me wrong. I'm very proud of my alma mater and eternally grateful for the education I received. Really, I was quite lucky to have been able to attend. If I were trying to enroll today, however, I'm not sure I would receive the same level of financial assistance. With fees topping $25K, surely the financial aid "pot" would need to be distributed among a larger group of applicants. Even middle class families would look for greater assistance. Would low-income families even consider having their children apply for such schools or would the large price tag scare them away? (My family was dissuaded originally and only had me apply after two years of debating how we would finance the educational investment.)

The other issue is what this says about public investment in education. If it costs $25K to get a private school education today, how much less is invested in public school education? Better still, would public schools use the money effectively if they had more to spend? I know what all of the research says (more money doesn't necessarily mean better schools), but let's look at how a school like my alma mater spends its money: higher teacher salaries, state-of-the-art technology/equipment/facilities, small class sizes... all the things we public school teachers want for our students but have to fight tooth and nail to get. Could you imagine if we made that available to every child regardless of the circumstances into which he or she was born?

Yes, I know skeptics will say that the private schools' pupil selection criteria means they have fewer difficult kids to teach. Honestly, even the most "difficult" children could thrive if they had the kind of attention one receives at these elite schools. Maybe if they'd been given that kind of attention in preschool or kindergarten, they might have never been given the "difficult" label. Just a thought.

old age

2006-02-11T14:46:00.000-05:00

I suffer from memory loss. I think it's genetic. ...either that or I'm not really the twentysomething I think I am. In any case, I couldn't, for the life of me, remember my damned password for this blog. And when I asked for a new one to be sent to my email, it never arrived. Which makes me think I've forgotten which email account I used to create my blogger account. Sigh...

Anyway, there's loads that I want to write about, but I have only a few moments left on this internet cafe pc. (Still no broadband at home. My flatmate controls the utilities. Double sigh...)

Okay, so now with my ranting done, I "promise" to do a proper blog entry soon--perhaps tomorrow--as I have quite a lot on my mind given the state of the world today...the cartoon protests, the Alabama church fires, the fact that Ruth Kelly (UK's education secretary) was hit in the face with a raw egg...

till then...

perspective

2005-12-28T13:12:00.000-05:00

We had a recent "snowfall" in the UK, with eastern Britain getting the worst of the storm. A whole 2 centimeters of snow fell in London. Brilliant. And while the weather forecasters were all warning of the dangerous road conditions, I couldn't help thinking, This is soooo much better than Boston!

Point being, it's all about perspective...how things appear from different people's point-of-view...I'm finding that my perspective on many things has changed in just the few short weeks that I've been here in England. For one, I'm actually imagining myself making this place my home. Of course, I'm still always dreaming of Paris. ; Secondly, I'm discovering that I haven't quite mastered the English language as I thought I had. The Queen's English is all together different. But I'm adapting... Thirdly, Britons are far friendly than they give themselves credit for being. Obviously, they haven't met Bostonians. Hmmm...what else?...oh, before moving here, I thought I'd never meet another attractive and intelligent guy over 5'10". Happily, there are quite a few "fit" gentlemen strolling through London, all of them well-dressed and tall. Granted, I only watch from a far, but at least there's plenty of eye candy to enjoy.

Yep, I definitely fancy life in London.

At last!

2005-12-19T10:37:00.000-05:00

I'm here. I'm settled (sort of). I'm broke.

It's been such a rollercoaster, but I finally made it to London. Worked for two weeks and am now "on holiday" for Christmas.

There's so much to say about this place. But to be brief, I LOVE IT! If it just weren't so darn expensive.

Ah, I would write more, but I'm typing this from an internet cafe...and I have only 7 minutes 37 seconds left on this login...

As soon as I'm wired (or rather wireless-ed) at home, I'll do a proper post with all my usual random musings about life. And there are so many things to comment on here...I know you just can't wait, can ya?

More news to come soon...until then, "cheers!"

countdown to Paris...uh, I mean, London

2005-11-28T21:22:00.000-05:00

Work permit drama slowly comes to an end...

Those of you close to me know that I have been in immigration limbo for a while, awaiting paperwork from the good folks in the UK to allow me to take the job that was offered to me, ohhhh, four months ago.

Anyway, I should be on my way across the Pond this week. It's only a matter of getting a flight, which shouldn't be too difficult.

The funny thing is that since it has taken so long for me to complete the move, I'll only work full time for two weeks until the office closes for the winter holiday. Gotta love it.

I'm thinking a Parisian getaway is in order. :) Too bad my grad student loans go into repayment next month. But, whatever, I'm the queen of traveling on a tight budget.

I'll keep ya posted.

hairstory (or why I didn't let that random guy cut my hair)

2005-11-28T14:11:00.000-05:00

If this hair of mine could talk, it would definitely have some crazy stories to tell. Like the time my momma chopped it all off because I was too "tenderheaded"...Grandpa cried, apparently. Or the years of enduring "Milli-Vanilli" jokes in elementary school because I wore long micro-braids (kids can be cruel). Or how about the really cute bob cut senior year of high school...that was not so cute once I had to brace a New England winter without hair covering my neck.

Since "going natural" with my hair this year (i.e. not getting a chemical relaxer to straighten it), I've accumulated a whole new set of hair-stories. Some are related to managing the wide variety of curls and textures that somehow coexist on my head. Other stories arise out of funny questions that I am asked by friends and strangers. But the question I got last night was a first, I think...

While sitting in a coffee shop, watching the end of a NFL matchup between the NY Giants and the Seattle Seahawks, I was approached by a soft-spoken gentleman with an unidentifiable accent:

Guy: "Excuse me... may I, may I ask you a question?"
Me: "Yeah, go ahead."
Guy: "I am doing a hairshow...and I think...you would be very good for it."
Me: "Uh-huh."
Guy: "I was wondering if you would be willing to go a little shorter with your hair."
Me: "Ummm, no, sorry, I'm growing it out actually."
Guy: "Oh, well, thank you. Thank you for your time."

A hairshow?! I guess I'll take it as a compliment. But I've seen what some of those stylists do to people's heads...especially when they get "scissor-happy." (Think Edward Scissorhands.) A trim turns into a razored asymmetrical cut with funky rainbow streaks. Yeah, I'll pass on that one.

On the bright side, I now have another story to add to the collection...and Seattle won the game in overtime.

merci

2005-11-24T10:20:00.000-05:00

This morning, my friend and I ran a 5K "Trot for Hunger" organized by S.O.M.E. (So Others Might Eat). It's a great event supporting a worthy cause. I've decided to make this my new Thanksgiving Day tradition.

The run helped me reflect on all of the things for which I am grateful...a list far too long to post here. It's enough to say that I've come along way in this world. Who would have thought that this skinny little girl from inner city L.A. would end up where she is today?

So I want to say thanks to everyone who's been there for me along the way--God, family, friends, teachers, students, colleagues... supporting me, encouraging me, challenging me, and humbling me.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

"¡Mira, la morena!"

2005-11-22T19:51:00.000-05:00

Just returned from an awesome trip to Mexico City. Visited friends from grad school, including Laura, who warned me that I'd get some stares from the locals.

Yep, I can't tell you how many times I heard the words "morena," "morenita," and so on whispered (or not) as I walked through the streets of D.F. At 5'10" my height certainly draws attention...even in the U.S. But my skin color usually does not cause anyone to do a double-take. Not so in Mexico.

This isn't to say that I'm not accustomed to being described as "morena." I know all to well this particular term of endearment and its use among Latinos in the States. Within my own family, we frequently use such phrases to describe one another lovingly. Hell, I even own a t-shirt that reads, "Brown is beautiful" ... which in essence is what I believe being "morena" is all about.

Of course, the folks who took notice of me were mostly commenting on the fact that I was apparently non-Latina and obviously of African descent. (Although, amazingly, one guy in Teotihuacan asked me if I was cubana.)

They just don't see to many of us in the capital, I guess. I've been told that the Afro-Mexicanos are mostly concentrated in Veracruz. But I'm sure my Reef flip-flops (which I wear almost always) highlighted my gringa-ness.

But I digress...

The fact remains that the use of a label such as morena symbolizes a key difference between los estadounidenses and los latinoamericanos: the former try (unsuccessfully) to be colorblind while the latter see myriad shades of color among them. I'm not saying we in the US should start addressing strangers as "brown-skinned girl" or "lady with the dark-complexion." Just making an observation is all.

Anyway, I've got some fantastic photos (and video!) from the trip. Will post those asap.

"Hasta la vista, baby"

2005-11-09T13:55:00.000-05:00

...or so said the miserably small percentage of voters who turned out for the Governator's special election in California. All of Arnold's propositions were defeated at the polls. While he may be thinking, "I'll be back," doubtful he'll be shown much love should he decide to run for re-election. He pretty much shot himself in the foot with this one. Borrowed too much from Dubya's renegade-cowboy-vigilante style playbook. Hmmm...now I guess he'll have to try doing things the old fashioned way...you know, like working together with the Legislature, consensus-building, and such. Go figure.

In other Cali news, the bond measure to construct and repair schools in Los Angeles passed easily. Now, I sure hope LAUSD puts this $4 billion to good use. After teaching in that district, I've lost a lot of confidence in the way bond measure money is spent. Our kids deserve so much better.

Oooh, as we all know by now, T.O. is gone for the rest of the season...at least suited up as an Eagle. But did you hear he's trying to apologize? Too little, too late, my friend. Better call up Keyshawn and find out how you can score another contract elsewhere. You ain't an Eagle, no more.

Finally, the French have declared a state of emergency and officials are (slowly) starting to acknowledge the social exclusion of immigrant youth. Overall, people are starting to ask the questions I posed in an earlier post! (Here's a brief article en français, too!) Of course, the immediate focus right now has been on securing the afflicted areas. Let's just hope Sarkozy's deportation plans don't ignite any more fires.

favorite blogs of the week

2005-11-09T13:30:00.000-05:00

Happened upon these randomly today:

fuzzy and blue --political musings by a proud Democrat

overwhelmed and perplexed

Freakonomics blog

shameless moment of consumeristic joy

2005-11-09T01:53:00.000-05:00

I recently discovered that I can fit a size 9.5 pair of Kenneth Cole tweed pumps. Yep, you read correctly, my size 10.5 narrow feet slipped easily into a 9.5! Granted, the feeling of my feet being a full size smaller was just an illusion, the experience was pure bliss nonetheless...until the saleswoman told me the cost. But I "visit" the pumps regularly, free of charge.

I also learned today that Paris Hilton wears a size 11B. I'd ask her where she shops, but I know damn well I can't afford to frequent those places. :)

nextel walkie-talkies

2005-11-08T13:01:00.000-05:00

...I hate 'em. The stupid chirping, the loud static-y voice transmission...drives me insane. The people who use them tend to have no "home-training." (The teens using a speakerphone on a crowded bus are just as ill-mannered and inconsiderate.)

I know all about the economic arguments that say people must love these things if they're still on the market. But talk about a negative externality! Come on, I know I can't be the only person annoyed by this particular mobile-phone innovation.

Construction workers handling their business on-site...fine.

Folks chatting it up on the Metro subway or in Corner Bakery café...not cool, dudes.

violences urbaines...je souviens

2005-11-06T13:53:00.000-05:00

As you might imagine, I've been following the coverage of the rioting in France closely over the past several days. The whole situation reminds me of April 1992, when my South Central L.A. neighborhood erupted in rioting that spread across the city.

The civil unrest in Los Angeles was sparked by the acquittal of four police officers charged with using excessive force against (i.e. beating) African-American motorist, Rodney King. (Note: The media called the whole court drama, "the Rodney King Trial," when, in fact, it was the four white police officers on trial, not the victim. But that's a discussion worthy of its own post.)

The current unrest in France began in response to the deaths of two teenagers in the immigrant suburb, Clichy-sous-Bois, north of Paris. The youths (who were of North African descent) were accidentally electrocuted while hiding in a power substation. They thought they were being chased by police, although the authorities deny they were chasing the boys.

Obviously, the situation in France differs considerably from what transpired 13 years ago in California. Most striking is the length and scope of the current unrest. We're now into the 10th day of rioting in France, with arson reported throughout the country and as far south as Nice. In 1992, the violence lasted for three days and was largely confined to the City of Los Angeles.

But the similarities between LA 1992 and Paris 2005 are, nonetheless, noteworthy:

1) In both cases, the violence results in response to a perceived injustice against a minority male.

2) Just as in Los Angeles in 1992, the government in France has been slow to react and to restore order. Just today, President Chirac called his ministers together for a special session to devise a plan for dealing with the violence. It took three days for the National Guard to be dispatched to South Central L.A. in 1992. (Note: Amazingly, on the first night of rioting in L.A., Police Chief Daryl Gates continued with his plans and attended a fundraiser banquet in Beverly Hills! French Minister of the Interior, Nicolas Sarkozy, has some Gates-ish qualities, if you ask me.)

3) The epicenter of the violence, in both cases, is in a minority community that has been marginalized for years...frustrated by poverty, unemployment, low academic achievement, crime and hopelessness that seem to pass over everyone else in the country but them. Add to this simmering discontent the tensions associated with racial and ethnic de facto segregation, and you have a recipe for disaster.

What cannot be denied in either case is that the perpetrators of the violence are overwhelmingly young men of color...in Los Angeles, they were predominantly African American and Latino; in France, they are largely the children of North African, Muslim immigrants.

Why is this important to note? Two reasons:

1) Their identities are linked to their social position which, in turn, is linked to their disenchantment with the government. They are "the other," and they have not been effectively intergrated into society. (I'm reminded of someone commenting on the rioting in LA, exclaiming that the rioters were "burning down their own neighborhood." My response...if you don't feel like you're apart of anything, then it isn't your neighborhood, now is it?)

2) Their participation in the violence contributes to and perpetuates stereotypes about the character of people sharing their identity (e.g. "thugs," "terrorists"). Are we at all surprised that the government in France has been looking for any links between these youths and Islamic extremists? (I'm again reminded of how many folks in the US tried to equate the rioters in Los Angeles with gang-bangers and drug-lords.)

In no way do I condone the violence in 1992 or what we're witnessing today in France. In fact, if I was in Paris right now, I'd probably march with the residents of the affected communities, demanding an end to the violence. Yet, while many are asking "Où est les parents de ces jeunes?," I ask instead, where has society been for these youth?

Even in the social democracy of France, we find that an entire segment of the population feels left out, living in poverty on the periphery of Parisian wealth...literally. When I visited France last year and rode into Paris on the train, I passed through these neighborhoods and was shocked at how much I was reminded of home. Graffitied housing projects lined the railway...it was as if I was passing through Nickerson Gardens projects in Watts on my way to Beverly Hills!

As an educator of marginalized youth and as an academic obsessed with racial/ethnic coalition and conflict, I would encourage the French to seek answers to the following questions: How do we quickly and effectively incorporate minorities into the political and social life of our country? How do we re-enagage disaffected youth? How do we combat the poverty that depressess whole communities in our midst? How can we provide everyone with an equal opportunity for success--a success that can actually be realized--regardless of the social position into which they were born?

If there is anything the French can learn from the 1992 L.A. unrest, it is that the government's response cannot end with a zero-tolerance approach to violence. Rebuilding South Central took years, and the work to strengthen it continues. But true collaboration with and incorporation of the neighborhood into the larger Los Angeles community has been key to preventing further unrest.

My hope is that once the fires have all been extinguished, les Français can move forward from this to address social ills that have been allowed to fester in les banlieues for so long. My fear is that this will open the door to politically-opportunistic xenophobes who would seek to repress these communities even further.

speaking of appearances...

2005-11-02T18:03:00.000-05:00

This is one of the best quotes regarding the NBA's new dress code:

"I don't have that many suits; I may have to recycle. I can't go to Men's Wearhouse because my arms are too long. I can make it work, though. If you've got 10 suits, you've really got 30. You just have to mix and match 'em right."
-- Bucks guard Desmond Mason, quoted in the Oct. 19 Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

Desmond, I can so sympathize. My arms are too long for the suits at most women's clothing stores, too! Even the tall sizes don't fit! :)

Check out this ESPN.com article for more humorous tidbits from our fave NBA stars.

more than keeping up appearances

2005-11-01T23:26:00.000-05:00

So I spoke to my ex this evening (yep, we're still friends). He revealed that he has stopped going to the gym and is "getting fat." I asked what happened to the athlete I used to know and love, to which he replied, "ah, I have a girlfriend now, no time for the gym."

Nonsense! Why is it that folks think it's cool to let themselves go just because they've grown comfortable in their relationships? This is where I think the French have us beat. They always look good (or at least every Frenchman I've met)...single, committed, whatever. Not sure how much exercising goes on in Paris, but keeping up appearances seems almost law.

But I titled this post "more than keeping up appearances" because looking good means nothing if you can barely climb a flight of stairs without being winded. I think it's the ultimate "I love you" when a guy tries to stay fit. It says to me, "hey, I like you, I like being with you, and I care about me and you enough to want to keep me in your life for years to come." Okay, maybe I read too much into things, but seriously... if someone smokes, eats crap all the time, never exercises,... I'd start to worry about health problems, wouldn't you?

If anything, we should all be exercising for ourselves. Now to convince my ex of this...

So long, Ms. Miers.

2005-10-27T23:57:00.000-04:00

Just when I started to see the upside of the low standard set by the Miers nomination...

Having written off law school, I'd almost given up my adolescent dream of becoming a Supreme Court justice. Then Miers' story came along, and I thought, surely, if she can get nominated, there's still hope for me! Maybe I won't even need to get a freakin' JD! (The $100 grand I spent on my graduate degree being a major deterrant to any pursuit of legal studies.)

...then the unthinkable happens, and Miers withdraws her nomination. In the letter she sent to Dubya, Miers claims that she didn't want to jeopardize the independence of the Executive branch. Yeah, uh-huh, sure. We all know that the Republican senators weren't too keen on the good counselor. My goodness, Trent Lott has already written her out of the history books: "In a month, who will remember the name Harriet Miers?" he was quoted as saying in an AP article on the matter.

As an aside, Language Arts teachers (and my former sixth grade students--skilled as they were at the art of peer-reviewing) will take note of the grammatical error in the first paragraph of Ms. Miers' letter. ;)

Comment dit-on "tamale" en français?

2005-10-26T23:59:00.000-04:00

I love Mexican food! Granted my own latin roots are back in Havana, I did grow up in Southern California, where even the restaurant Mexican food can taste homemade. From fresh salsa to tortas to enchiladas verdes to carne asada to flan...I can never be tired of eating Mexican food. (Okay, Cubanos make flan, too. Speaking of Cuban food...I know of a pretty good restaurant in Culver City, if you're interested.)

Living on the east coast has made my affection for this particular cuisine grow even stronger. And what I long for most is a really, really, REALLY good tamale...preferably homemade (um...Sra. Ramos...¿por favor?). What's not to love about a tamale? It even comes in cool, biodegradable packaging (corn husk, banana leaves)! And the goodness tucked away inside can be a pleasant surprise...pollo, carne, queso...

I've yet to find a tamale east of the Mississippi that comes close to what I could get back home in LA. While I was in NYC last week, visiting friends, we ordered a promising "tamale oaxaqueño" from a local Mexican restaurant. Utter disappointment. The good folks down in Oaxaca would be shamed to have their state's name attached to that sad excuse for a tamale. Don't get me wrong...the presentation was great, but the taste left much to be desired.

Moving to Paris (or London for that matter) will put me even farther away from these delicious treats. My solution: learn how to prepare tamales before I leave the States...or convince my friend's mom to visit me abroad...often.

Weird compliments - my first runner-up

2005-10-24T17:12:00.000-04:00

A guy told me I have a sexy clavicle (what we laypeople ordinarily call the collar-bone). This ranks as the second-most bizarre compliment I’ve received to date. First place still goes to the thuggish guy at the Greyhound station in Pomona who practically drooled all-over my “pretty toes.” Still gives me chills just thinking about that one…

Anyway, I know that this can't be the weirdest of the weird. Care to present a challenger?

hope for my Niners...

2005-10-20T23:55:00.000-04:00

So Tim Rattay was traded to the Bucs and now young Alex can start every game. Will this help turn the team around? I dunno, but let's just hope it doesn't hurt.

On a related note, maybe Phil can restore my Lakers to glory.

Hmmm, football and basketball...two more things I will miss while I'm in Paris (or London, for that matter).

why me?

2005-10-20T12:54:00.000-04:00

The other night, my friend Victoria asked if any of my childhood playmates from South Central had gone on to college as I had. As far as I know, only a handful made it to college...and I had no clue how many of them completed their higher ed studies. Most did finish high school, although I know many who dropped out or landed in jail before reaching graduation day. Let's see, there was Ernesto (not his real name) who quit after eighth grade to work so that his family could have additional income. Then there was Nathaniel (also not his real name) who joined a local gang, ended up murdering the owner of a liquor store during a failed armed robbery, and was consquently sent to prison for life. And then there was my best friend from kindergarten, Mae, who dropped out freshman year because a group of girls threatened to do her bodily harm for (supposedly) talking to their boyfriends. Last time we spoke (about a few months ago), Mae was working at WalMart.

Whenever I speak to her, I leave the conversation wondering why me? why did I make it and not her too?

You see, Mae and I had very similar childhoods. We even share the same birthdate, coming into this world only hours apart. We were both two skinny little knobby-kneed girls who were teased mercilessly by our peers.

She: a Filipina/Mexicana who other ignorant ghetto children repeatedly called "Chinese"
Me: a brown-skinned "Creole of Color" with a French surname everyone purposely mispronounced

We were both being raised by widowed grandmothers living just above the poverty line. We went to the same preschool (a rare thing for inner-city kids). We attended the same Catholic elementary school on scholarship, had all the same teachers, and earned virtually the same grades. We went on to the same Catholic middle school...still thick as thieves and still skinny nerds.

But then our paths began to diverge. I went on to attend an elite, independent girls' prep school across town, thanks to more scholarships and financial aid. Mae enrolled in a Catholic girls' school close to our neighborhood. Our ninth grade year was the first time in nearly a decade that we would not be in the same school. It would also be Mae's last year of formal education.

I can't explain it. I don't know why she dropped out...well, I know the reasons she gave, but I don't know how and why the system could have let her drift away. Since then, she's tried numerous times to complete her education and earn a GED. What hurts me most is the knowledge that, even with a GED, her future prospects (career options, potential earnings, quality of life, etc.) are still not as bright as someone with a college degree or even just a high school diploma.

I may never know the answer to my question. I do know that certain favorable conditions improve the likelihood that children born into poverty can break the cycle that often dooms their families. It has become my mission to ensure every child receieves and completes a quality education and has the opportunity to go as far as possible in achieving it. After teaching immigrant students back in South Central for two years, I now know that the fight for educational equality cannot be fought on US soil alone. My romanticized view of France aside, I'm taking this struggle global--to the UK, Europe, Africa, Asia and Latin America.

First stop, London's inner city...

Tostada pizza - a CPK masterpiece

2005-10-19T09:48:00.000-04:00

If there’s one thing I most certainly will miss once I do make it to Paris, it will be the CPK tostada pizza with grilled lime chicken sans ranch dressing. If you haven’t tried it, you’re definitely missing out on a little piece of heaven. Don’t forget to top it off with some Tapatío salsa picante (that’s “hot sauce” for the non-bilingüe).

the city of light

2005-10-18T10:57:00.000-04:00

Paris, France...

Just as many the American ex-pat before me, I find myself madly in love with this cosmopolitan city. My first visit was in the spring of 2004 (springtime is a great time to fall in love). I was en route to Morocco but had decided to extend my layover in Paris by three days. Ever since, I've been obsessed with finding my way back to live out a chapter of my life in the City of Light.

This blog will chronicle my adventures in pursuit of a Parisian life. Along the way, expect random musings on life in the US and UK. (Forgot to mention I was hired by an organization in London, only a Eurostar train ride away from Paris!)

I'll try to keep this interesting.