Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Meet Dr. Biden

Yes, I am excited about Barack Obama's historic acceptance speech last night. And I still have the highest praise for Michelle's own speech a few days ago and look forward to the day when I can call her our First Lady.

But I feel I must devote at least one post to who I hope will be the nation's next "Second" Lady.

She is a fellow academic as well as a former mommy-ing graduate student--two statuses very near and dear to my heart. You can access the abstract and preview of the 2007 dissertation from Jill Jacobs-Biden, EdD here. From the Obama/Biden 2008 website comes this introduction:

Dr. Jill Tracy Biden (née Jacobs) was raised in Willow Grove, Pennsylvania. Jill is the oldest of four sisters, and the daughter of Bonnie, a stay-at-home mom, and Donald. Both her parents were born in Hammonton, New Jersey. Jill's father, who was a banker, passed away in 1999 and her mother now resides in Pennsylvania.

Jill and Joe met when she was a student at the University of Delaware, an introduction arranged by Joe's brother. When Senator Biden called to ask her out, Jill made sure to mention she was not impressed with his title and that he should feel lucky that she had voted for him. At the time Joe had two sons, Beau and Hunter.

The couple dated for two years, and on June 17, 1977 were married at the United Nations chapel in New York City. Jill has said that when she married Joe, she knew she was marrying the whole family, including his two sons. Beau and Hunter joined the couple on their honeymoon.

In 1981, Joe and Jill had a daughter, Ashley. All of the children are now grown and five grandchildren - Naomi, Finnegan, Maisy, Natalie, and Hunter Biden - have been added to the family. Beau is the Attorney General of the State of Delaware. A captain in the Delaware National Guard, he is slated to go to Iraq in October. Hunter is a lawyer; and Ashley is employed as a social worker.

Jill is in her 15th year at Delaware Technical and Community College in Wilmington, teaching English composition. She also spent 13 years in the public schools, where she was a Reading specialist and English teacher as well as a part-time teacher with Rockford Psychiatric Hospital Adolescent Program.

While working full-time and raising a family, Jill earned two masters degrees: a Master's degree in English from Villanova University (1987) and a Master's degree in reading from West Chester University (1981). She graduated from the University of Delaware with a Bachelor of Arts (1975).

This past January, Jill earned a Doctorate in Education from the University of Delaware in 2007. Her dissertation focused on how to retain students in community colleges.

When her students ask if she is related to Joe, she says he is just a relative. As she explains, she is their English teacher and wants them to view her as such, not the wife of a U.S. Senator. When she arrived home from defending her thesis, Joe had placed two signs along the driveway. One said, "Congratulations Dr. Jacobs-Biden" and the other "Dr. and Senator Biden live here."

Jill has always been active and engaged in issues that matter to her most, including healthcare. Jill had four friends with breast cancer, one of whom died, and she thought as an educator, there had to be something that she could do. In 1993, Jill started the Biden Breast Health Initiative that has educated more than 7,000 ninth-through twelfth grade girls in Delaware about proper breast health. She is also a Board member of the Literacy Volunteers of America.

Jill also is involved with Delaware Boots on the Ground, an organization she created after campaigning in the primaries and hearing all the challenges that military family members face. The group works with many whose needs existing programs are not meeting or who have fallen through the cracks.

This summer, Jill also started a program called Book Buddies to get kids reading early, starting at 4 years old. Partnering with "Ministry of Caring" day care, it targets low-income children and helps to raise money to buy books for them to read....

SITBB Vault: Get Up Offa That Thang!

A day late (and a dollar short)... But here finally is my last Music Friday (Saturday edition) 32Days music playlist. I was all set to do something high-brow. Perhaps some classic jazz, early female blues singers, an exploration into the borders of Black sacred and secular music...something along those lines.

But then I got to thinking about two things. The first was how my girl Deesha dissed my girl Janet (here--see comments). "Welllll, now, Yvette.....Janet is not really a singer, now, is she...but she is a mighty fine entertainer..." That got me thinking. Maybe I should be using my limited Black history space to dispel the myth that the only thing Black folks do is break out into dance at a moment's notice. But on the other hand, of course I am not ashamed of Black artists' contribution to the world culture in the form of music that gets your body moving, right?

The second thing: The other day I went to pick up my kids from extended day care at their school. Over in the corner were a group of kids (all White, all suburban) dancing the "soulja boy." I said excitedly to my daughter, "Oooo, look, they're doing the soulja boy! I'm gonna go over and join them!" To which my daughter replied--in a theatrical, loud whisper with a look of utter horror on her face, "No Mommy, please--Please do not go over and do the soulja boy!" Now, hopefully the fear my kid expressed was at the thought of her 40-something Mom busting a move in front of her friends and not the act of dancing itself.

But. Just in case. I hereby reclaim music to move by. With this playlist I proudly and loudly showcase several decades of Black Dance music!

La-Di-Da-Di
We likes to party
We don't cause trouble
We don't bother nobody...

Sometimes it is really no deeper than that. It's not about protest and social commentary, or chilling to the quiet storm, or breaking musical barriers. Sometimes it is merely about shaking that groove thang.

With this playlist I tried to imagine myself as a DJ at a family wedding, where I'd have to please several generations of folks. So there's music to Hustle and Bus Stop to; some tunes for the Steppers couples to step to; some old school hip-hop anthems and funk jams to break dance and Bump to... And of course the Electric Slide song so that everyone can line up and dance.

Oh yes--there is even "Pop, Lock and Drop It" and "Crank Dat Soul Ja Boy" for the young folks to dance to and the old folks to either watch and shake their heads or participate in and make fools of themselves. (And yes, I know what "soldier boy" and "superman" are slang for...) And of course there is Janet! (:-P~~ @ D, LOL!)

It's all in good fun. No one's watching. Come on. Get on the floor and move something.

She's Come Unplugged

Yes, I am still here. Though you wouldn't know it from my blogging output.

This transition to a new/old state has been much more involved than I thought possible. One of the side effects of my persistent transitory circumstance has been a lack of internet access. I have become like a web-vampire, haunting coffee houses, smoothie shops, and public libraries for (free) internet access. And when I have not had access, I have been largely un-plugged from the virtual world--a situation I have not found myself to be in for over a decade.

But there also has been something strangely...blissful about not being connected 24-7.

I know that there is an emergent phenomenon called "web holidays" where folks purposefully disconnect from email, internet and the like for some period of time. Has anyone tried this? If so, what did you hope to gain from the experience? What did you actually accomplish? What was the hardest thing about being disconnected?

For me, I at first felt a little like Seven of Nine when she was first unhooked from the Borg Collective. So lonely...so quiet... But slowly I started to come to terms with my new situation. For example: Did you know there are humongous books in which can be found words, arranged alphabetically, and their pronunciations and definitions? Kind of like dictionary.com? Did you know you can look up businesses and their addresses and telephone numbers in another big book, its onion-skin thin pages a pale yellow? And there are large folded sheets of paper on which are drawn a city's streets and landmarks--these are not specific to the location you want to go to (unlike Mapquest) but they are quite handy just the same.

Yes. Do not despair. You are not alone in the wide world just because you are unplugged from the www.

House Hunting, LOLCat Style

Wow! It is the end of June already! This cannot be! Who knew that uprooting four lives and an existence of nine years and transplanting those lives to another state could be so all-concuming: of time, of energy, of money, of sanity. But here I am, with only days before I leave.

As it is Wednesday, why not make it a Laugh Out Loud Wednesday. This time my focus will be on house-hunting. We have been house-hunting off and on for over a year now, first here and more recently in Indianapolis. What a process! And what a time to be buying (and selling)! The only way to get through it is with laughter. And kitties. So here you go--with my very own LOLcat creations!

moar funny pictures

moar funny pictures

moar funny pictures

moar funny pictures

moar funny pictures

Obama Time: 6/3/08, St. Paul, MN

Wait in line: 1 hour 20 minutes...

(Image credit: H-Dub)

I know that some folks were in line for eight hours or more. But I did not think I could handle more than an hour or so--let alone two little girls. At first my daughters were a little nervous. They said they had never seen so many people at one time. But soon they relaxed and got caught up in the carnival-like atmosphere. While in line one of the t-shirt vendors, singing an impromptu song to attract attention to his wares, even pointed out one of my girls and worked her into his lyric: "Vote for Obama when you've had enough/Like that pretty little girl with the afro puff." "Mommy! He's talking about me!" While in line I read one of the final chapters of the fourth installment of Harry Potter aloud. It not only entertained my daughters, but several other children and their parents in the line around us.

...Decision-making regarding button purchase: 15 minutes...

(Image credit: Chad Davis)

Both my daughters finally decided to spend their $5 on a button featuring Sen. Obama as Harry Potter, complete with round-framed glasses, robe, and wand. (Though not, as one of my girls pointed out, with the lightening scar on his forehead.) The caption promised that Barack Obama would "bring wizardry to the White House." I am not sure what wizardry that would be, but if it has anything to do with such things as a better economy, improved education, and peace and stability at home and abroad, I am all for such magic.

....Dap from your boo before the big speech: Approx 7 seconds...

(Image credit: Texas Revolutionary)

"Look at her dress, Mommy! She's beautiful!" "Where are his kids, Mommy? Aren't they gonna come, too?" "Can we go down there on the floor to see them?" ...No, we did not make it to the floor of the Excel Energy Center. But at least we made it inside. From high in the rafters, the Obamas were but dots far below. But that was compensated for by the sight of them on the big screen of the Jumbotron where we--and the world--were treated to the sight of their (now famous) dap. (Or "fist pound," if you prefer.)

...Seeing your daughters witness history: Timeless.

(Image credit: Me!)

SITBB Vault: Power to the People

Welcome to my first 32 Days of Black History post. (See here for information about this joint effort with Mamalicious!) What a wonderful way to begin our blogathon--with some music. Deesha and I plan to devote each Friday of this effort to music. Deesha has come strong out of the gate in her first post with insisive commentary on and an awesome playlist of Michael Jackson, B.C. (Before Changes...) I'll definitely plan in future weeks to bring you some funk, perhaps some old school hip-hop, and definitely some of my favorite jazz. But today I'll kick things off with a theme of Protest and Social Commentary.

Let me first note that I am experimenting with a new streaming web player for this so please excuse any bugs. For example, when I was previewing the playlist, the software played Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On" when it was supposed to be streaming "Mercy, Mercy Me." Now, in a different context, let's get it on might be a political battle cry. But I am pretty sure that when Marvin sang There's nothing wrong with me loving you he was not directing his sentiments toward, for example, the President of the United States.

Anyway, where was I?

Protest and social commentary. Compiling this playlist took me through several decades of Black people putting voice to tune in order to comment on social ills of the day, claim self- and community-love, and protest injustice. In this playlist the Chi-Lites are exasperated and demand that "for God's sake, give more power to the people." Meanwhile The O'Jays decry our obsession and love of the mean, mean green almighty dollar. Lady Day gives a haunting description of "strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees" while Harry Belafonte repeatedly shouts "before I'll be a slave, I'll be buried in my grave..." Because of the random aspect of the order that these songs are streamed, you may find yourself in jarring musical and temporal transitions. For example, after Billie in circa 1950s jazz club you may suddenly time warp to hear Public Enemy urge you to "Fight the Power" or Angie Stone sing an ode to her often misunderstood Black brothers, or you may jump over into hard rock to hear Living Colour note that "the mirror speaks, the reflection lies." But no matter the era or musical stylings, Angie and Chuck D and Vernon and Billie are all part of the same tradition.

In short, no observance or discussion of Black History would be complete without acknowledging the role that music has played in expressions of Black empowerment, Black rage, Black pride, Black hope, Black humanity, Black love. Now, many Black History Month observations will focus only on the "happy" or the "firsts" in music such as Berry Gordy's feel-good Motown sounds, or Marian Anderson breaking the color barrier by performing with the Metropolitan Opera. But this focus does not tell the full story. Hopefully this playlist (as of my final tally, over 50 songs strong) will help fill in some gaps.

Some of the "usual suspects" of protest and social observation are here from as many musical genres as I could cobble together, including:

*Curtis Mayfield "If There's a Hell Below..."
*Stevie Wonder "You Haven't Done Nothing"
*The Staple Singers "Respect Yourself"
*Bob Marley "Get Up, Stand Up"
*Aretha Franklin "Young, Gifted and Black"
*Gil Scott-Heron "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised"
*War "The World is a Ghetto"
*Tracy Chapman "Talkin About a Revolution"
*Isley Brothers "Harvest for the World"
*James Brown "(Say It Loud) I'm Black and I'm Proud"

But I've also thrown in a few surprises. Louis Armstrong asserts in his signature rasp that "We Shall Overcome." Jimi Hendrix provides his famous interpretation of the land of the free and home of the brave. And I include two examples of jazz giants using their art forms to make important public statements: a piece from Wynton Marsalis's "From the Plantation to the Penitentiary" and another from Terence Blanchard's incredibly moving ode to New Orleans post-Katrina.

But enough yapping. This is supposed to be about the music, not about my comments. I will make one more disclosure: the only "rules" for inclusion in this playlist were that the songs be some of my favorites and they were available from the finetune.com site for playlist inclusion. As such, this is by no means an exhaustive sample. Please feel free to share your own favorites.

Happy Listening!

INbound Replay: Blue Eyes, Brown Eyes, and Freckled Faced Freaks

I often tell people that my first remembered experience of discrimination was as a subject in an exercise when I was in the third grade. That usually takes people by surprise, seeing as how I am visibly an African American type person. Surely, people think, I did not need an experiment to experience first hand the sting of prejudice and discrimination.

But it is true.

When I was in the third grade, I attended a school--Morton Elementary--in a college town. Students from Purdue were always coming over to our school to use us pupils for some hands-on learning of one type or another. We were used to visitors from the University. We were used to the games. They were good for a change of pace, getting us out of class and our usual routine for a bit.

On this day, my teacher asked for volunteers. It may not come as a surprise to those of you who know me, but back then I was always the first student to raise my hand to answer a question, to volunteer to take a note to the office--that kind of thing. So, along with some other kids who also volunteered, I left the room and went to another area of the school with the college kids.

Once separated from the rest of the class, we volunteers were decorated with black eyeliner pencils, given "freckles" all over our cheeks and noses. I remember vividly: At this point we were still having fun, laughing, giggling.

But soon after, that laughter would turn to anger, tears, fear.

Once we were reunited with the rest of the class, we thought we would continue on with the day as usual. It seemed that way, anyway. Miss Foster, our teacher, began our regularly scheduled lesson. At first, the difference was barely noticeable. One of us volunteers would raise our hand to answer Miss Foster's question, but we would not be called on. Or we would be called on, but our correct answer would be discounted--often only to be praised when the same answer was given by one of the kids who had stayed behind in the classroom, one of the kids without the eyeliner-pencil drawn "freckles."

But soon the difference was apparent. The non-freckled kids were given a special treat; we were given nothing. The non-freckled kids--many who were our friends--best friends, even--started to ignore us, refusing to play with us. Eventually, they began calling us the name: "freckled-faced freaks."

Outside on the playground at recess, none of us FFFs were invited to join in any reindeer games. I remember vividly: We freaks were huddled together off to the side. Some of us had, by this time, wiped off the apparently-offending freckles. But it didn't matter. We were treated the same: by our friends, by our beloved Miss Foster. I remember some of us making plans right then and there to just leave the school--take off and walk home, never come back.

...Well, eventually, all us kids were "debriefed." We were told we had just participated in yet another "game" and the rest of the school day was back to normal.

I still have in my possession a yellowed three-page document with a staple in the upper left hand corner. The print on these pages is faded purplelish typewriter font, familiar to folks of my age as copied from a "mimeograph" machine. (Ahhhh, remember that smell of freshly mimeo-ed sheets?....) On the first page are quotes from kids in the class, entitled "HOW I FELT AS A FRECKLED-FACED FREAK."

My quote is first. Uncharacteristically, I was brief: "I felt like kicking everyone. I felt left out. I felt like not coming to school anymore." Beth was a little more expansive: "I felt that it is not fun to be picked on and that I would not like to be a freckled-faced freak again. I felt like screaming at Miss Foster saying 'Miss Foster, you're the meanest teacher I ever had in my whole life.' I felt she was being unfair giving everybody a cookie except the freckled face freaks..."

Other (former) FFFs expressed similar feelings: feeling left out, "sad, mad, and lonely," embarrassed, "humiliated to bits," mixed-up.

More instructive, I think, are the comments on the next page from the non-FFFs entitled "HOW I FELT ABOUT THE FRECKLED-FACED FREAKS." Nancy "felt like a big shot...like a big, big star" and she "did not care about them being left out." Kathy said the freckled faced freaks "looked ugly." She continued "I did not like the looks of them. I thought it was fun to pick on them. I'm glad it was not me." Derrek, the only other Black kid in the class, said "I thought it was funny, but I hope they will not do it again!" A couple kids were more compassionate, saying they were sad, sorry for the FFFs, and were relieved that "it was a gag." Others felt guilty, like Crystal who said "I felt mad at myself. I felt sorry because I did something that I knew was wrong."

You may recognize this as a replication of the famous "Brown Eyes, Blue Eyes" exercise from the late 60's. A Frontline site explains:

On the day after Martin Luther King Jr. was murdered in April 1968, Jane Elliott's third graders from the small, all-white town of Riceville, Iowa, came to class confused and upset. They recently had made King their "Hero of the Month," and they couldn't understand why someone would kill him. So Elliott decided to teach her class a daring lesson in the meaning of discrimination. She wanted to show her pupils what discrimination feels like, and what it can do to people.

Elliott divided her class by eye color -- those with blue eyes and those with brown. On the first day, the blue-eyed children were told they were smarter, nicer, neater, and better than those with brown eyes. Throughout the day, Elliott praised them and allowed them privileges such as a taking a longer recess and being first in the lunch line. In contrast, the brown-eyed children had to wear collars around their necks and their behavior and performance were criticized and ridiculed by Elliott. On the second day, the roles were reversed and the blue-eyed children were made to feel inferior while the brown eyes were designated the dominant group...

(Watch the entire program: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/divided/etc/view.html)

What to think of such simulations trying to get people to experience a walk in someone else's pair for a spell? What to say about efforts to get people to understand--on a gut level as well as a cognitive level--complex experiences like racism and racial discrimination? If you've explored this blog a little, you know that I, myself, attempted a similar exercise--What do you think of my effort?

This is something I think about a lot. As a former teacher of little kids, as a (hopefully) future teacher of college students, as a researcher. As an African American woman who frequently travels in circles lacking in African Americans. And, as someone who, over 32 years ago (!!!) in Miss Foster's 3rd grade classroom in room 202 of Morton Elementary, was a participant in such a simulation. Remember, my memory of this experience is as my first direct confrontation of discrimiation--not as an encounter with academic research. The experience and the feelings and the hurt were real, despite the FFF exercise being just "a gag."

Anyway. No answers today. Just reflections.

(I wonder what Derrek, Donna, Rini, Crystal, Miss Foster, and the rest are doing today...)

Inspiration...

...from my baby brother:

Music Weekend: Heavy Rotation

From some of my previous playlists you might assume that I only listen to music from days gone by: "blasts from the past"..."oldies but goodies"..."musty dusties"... Such is not the case. I love new releases. Now, I do not always purchase new music, however. Just as I love cotton candy but wouldn't buy it using an interest-incurring credit card. But there have been exceptions, and this playlist highlights some of my favorites in heavy rotation on my iPod that are new (or at least newer) releases.

Some are by artists who are decidedly not new. Madonna is back! As is Donna Summer! And Charlie (last name) Wilson! In addition, some of my favorite artists-who-do-not-get-enough-radio-love are here. (You know, every music snob has to have a long list of these.) Lala Hathaway, Me'shelle Ndegeocello, Craig David and Lenny Kravitz, thus, will always be in heavy rotation on Radio-Yvette.

But I am not hating on the newcomers. Yes, I admit to being a grown woman who enjoys listening to Ne-Yo. I wish finetune.com had Lloyd's "All Around the World" available, but alas, they did not or I would have included that as well. I absolutely love Brit, Estelle, not the least bit annoyed (yet) by the incessant play of "American Boy" featuring Kanye on the radio dial.

Also, I have several selections from the world of rap/hip hop. Snoop Dogg continues, IMO, to evolve in ways I find interesting and worthy of a listen. Ditto Jay-Z and his American Gangster "soundtrack." The Roots have one of the most historically important albums out right now. Yes, that is Lil' Wayne in there. For whatever reason "Lollipop" was not available, but I am also listening to "Shooter," his duet with Robin Thicke--one of the most interesting and unexpected pairings in hip-hop.

And Lupe Fiasco! Goodness gracious this guy is an amazing poet--and I do not say that just because he is a man after my own heart, claiming to like "green Now 'r Laters" in "Gold Watch." (I am a purple Now and Later gal myself, but props for the old school candy reference anyway.)

So, my soundtrack for this week end's tasks of packing and cleaning and data analysis and writing/revising. What new music is in your heavy rotation?

"Let me tell you 'bout the birds and the bees..."

"...and the flowers and the trees..." A follow-up to my joke from last time. Much thanks to Evan for letting me know about this ad.