Jun 11, 2009

Letter from a Professor

I didn't wake up this morning expecting anything profound or even mildly good. As usual, I was presently surprised, this time by one of the English professors at East Central (my university). Below you'll find his letter, which was dispatched to us via campus email. (I did get his permission to repost. Really. :D)

Honestly, this is so close to my own views on the subject it's almost scary. Anyway—here it is. (Long, but worth the read, promise.)
"I did not know then how much was ended. When I look back now ... I can still see the butchered women and children lying heaped and scattered all along the crooked gulch as plain as when I saw them with eyes still young. And I can see that something else died there in the bloody mud, and was buried in the blizzard. A people's dream died there. It was a beautiful dream ... the nation's hoop is broken and scattered. There is no center any longer, and the sacred tree is dead."

--- Black Elk, Black Elk Speaks

Yesterday a white supremacist, anti-Semitic, holocaust-denying terrorist broke into the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C. and opened fire with a rifle killing a security officer before being shot himself. This man had long published his hateful views on a website, blog before he took action. FBI and Homeland Security officials have been warning that terrorism by American citizens will likely rise due to economic hard times, the election of President Obama and the perceived liberal socialism in America.

Interestingly, the same day just before the shooting occurred at the Museum, Rush Limbaugh was pontificating on his radio show that Obama (he never refers to him as President Obama) "like God" doesn't have a birth certificate" since he (Limbaugh) has never seen it. Limbaugh and others continuously fan the flames of disrespect for our elected President and for the political process that is currently the choice of the majority in this country.

My purpose is not to tell you what political party to belong to or how to vote (in case you are wondering I am Independent and have voted for both Democratic and Republican candidates in many elections at all levels of government in my lifetime. On some issues I am rather liberal, on some I am rather conservative -- though I think these terms have lost their original meaning).

My purpose is to tell you that the hatred, the willful denial of facts, the undermining of a democratic process, the inflammatory rhetoric, the refusal to acknowledge the rights of American citizens who have properly been in this country for generations or who have been accepted via the immigration process, the blind ethnocentricism -- all this leads only to chaos and threatens the peaceful existence of us all.

My purpose is to tell you that the reason the course called "Ethnic Literature" exists in the curriculum of ECU is to help us all appreciate the diversity of our rich American society and to help us understand the many things we all have in common, and to help us all grow more tolerant and respectful of differences. The reason people do not respect others is because they do not respect themselves, do not respect life and they have a deep insecurity that only hatred makes possible for them to temporarily stomach, until one day, some act out in violent ways. It is a fact of human existence, whether in individual relationships or in social groups or political factions, any insecure person must bring someone else down in order to prop up his/her own lack of inner peace. In other words, much of the nonsense we hear splattered across the airwaves, television and internet is simply the projections of one's misguided fear and failure onto an audience he/she hopes will gulp down his/her unsupported and simplistic reasoning like a stupid fish swallowing a baited hook. If I am blind, incompetent, misinformed and/or hateful, I must project those insecurities onto you, so then there will be others like me -- a fellowship of the insecure. Like a junior high clique where character assassination is practiced by stupid cowards -- sometimes understandable for twelve-year olds, not so for adults.

My purpose is to tell you that in a democracy we have the right to speak, hopefully with civility and with honest engagement of fact and sources, and we also have the right to vote. Beyond this we have the responsibility to live with and respect opinions and views and people that we may not initially like or always agree with. If we fail in this responsibility, then we will soon no longer have the rights we all enjoy.

Obviously all people who are in opposition to President Obama's political policies are not terrorists nor are they wrong to oppose President Obama. But if we devalue honest dialogue, if we resort to name-calling and personal attack, then we are no better than our opponent, and logically, have no basis to make our case. The democracy has only one option, then, but to degenerate into chaos, where only force and violence can restore order. For me, in spite of inconveniences of our system, I prefer dialogue and tolerance to force, for in force, I may overthrow you, but someone else, eventually will overthrow me. What is the point of this endless cycle, then, of revenge? Wouldn't we then be just like the Muslim terrorists that all of us fear and that right-wing folks in America continuously point to as barbarian and evil?

The passage I quoted above is from a Sioux named Black Elk who was in the Battle of Little Bighorn and at the Wounded Knee Massacre later in his life. His recollection of the slaughter should remind us all that as serious and as heinous as terrorism from overseas is, our own home-grown terrorism is even worse. It is one thing for our overseas fanatics to terrorize us, it is far more serious and immoral for us, in the name of democracy, to terrorize our own citizens.

If you think I am just overstating things as a liberal professor, I would simply ask you to consider the family of the slain security guard from yesterday's hateful attack. Put yourself in the living room of his family. How does it feel? What did this man and/or his family do to deserve this other than have the wrong skin color? I ask you to consider the thousands upon thousands of people who survived prison camps and witnessed the gas ovens of the holocaust. What did they do wrong besides have the wrong religion?

I ask us all to renew our commitment to not live by stereotype, to go beyond the surface of simplistic name-calling, to learn to judge people by their acts, not their ethnic heritage or religious persuasion or any other factor you may disagree with.

As a citizen, I fear the more we refuse to read and learn of our past, the more confused and impotent we become in the present and the more doubtful a successful future becomes. After all, this is America, you have the right to be dumb. But what happens if enough of us practice that right? We will lose that very right. As a professor, I ask you to read, read, read. Read Man's Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl. Read the books on the Bibliography of Primary Sources listed on your Blackboard. I understand that many of the American, neo-Nazi type terrorists are not dumb (a common misconception). Often they are highly educated, intelligent, but hateful people. Given this, the good citizens also ought to be educated, well-read people. That includes you, hopefully. Oh, and by the way, the reading will not only give you perspective by which to make decisions, it will enrich your life. By enriching I mean, you will never again be bored, ignorant, lacking for stimulus or confused about that which is beautiful and necessary. In life, we don't always know what to do, but we can always know what not to do. That is an absolute worth knowing and a virtue worth practicing.

Peace!
Kenneth Hada PhD
Associate Professor
English & Languages
East Central University
khada@ecok.edu

May 30, 2009

Chronic Pain Barbie


Chronic Pain Barbie, originally uploaded by Migraine Chick.

I'm no doll, that's for sure--but I figured it was about time for an update on the IH mess--because that's what it is...a mess. I've got pills out the wahzoo...but do any of them help? Nope, not really. Sure, I can knock myself out, but what good does that do? None at all as far as I'm concerned. If I'm gonna wake up groggy, I'd like to at least have fun the night before.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not all bad--it just seems that way when you're on your fifth or sixth day of working in 20 minute blocks because you can't focus much longer than that. Then there's the people you disappoint because you can't remember they were talking to you, much less what they were talking about. (Yes, my pharmaceuticals are that good.)

The long and short of it is--I'm working my arse off. I have lots of work lined up this year, and it won't get done without me. There's bound to be some fun in there somewhere, but I have to take care of myself and my boys above everything else. This last semester of college may not be easy (in fact, I know it won't be) but if all of you--my friends, readers, and colleagues--will hang in there with me, it'll be worth the ride. Promise.


[PS. If you're unfamiliar with IH, go back to some of my previous blogs: like this one, that one, or the other one or visit The IH Research Foundation.]

May 14, 2009

::Down and Dirty Southern Cookin':: (aka Swine Flu Supper)

Hold on to your hats and your tastebuds, folks--this is gonna get a little messy. And it just *might* blow your mind. Are you ready? Sure you are. Here it is: the Swine Flu Supper.

The first step is to gather up all the items you're gonna need to concoct this mess (don't worry, I made a list):

Boneless Chicken--either breast or thigh...it doesn't really matter as long as it's boneless. One piece per person is usually enough, unless you're feeding a Bubba (but that's another blog).

Bacon--peppered or smoked--whatever you like. Probably 2-3 slices per piece of chicken.

Flour--all-purpose is good...ah...and just get the whole bag out. I never measure, so I really have no idea how much you'll need. (If your one of those people who freaks out without an exact measurement, use a cup to start with. Add more when you need it. And you will. haha!)

Seasonings--this is the fun part. You want Latin? Add taco seasoning to the flour. You want Southern comfort food? Just mix in some salt, pepper, and a little paprika. If you want the really, really good stuff (and if you love garlic, like I do) add a couple tablespoons of Garlic Garni and some black pepper (a couple teaspoons, IDK.). *That* is fantastic. [You can also mix a bit of that with some melted butter and brush it over thawed/partially baked frozen yeast rolls--and you'll think you've died and gone to heaven. seriously.]

Vegetable or Canola Oil, heated in a (preferably cast iron) deep skillet. Needs to be about 1-1.5 inches deep.

You'll also need an egg and a bit of milk--just beat em up and leave in the bowl for a sec.

1 toothpick per bacon slice, soaked in a bowl of water for at least 15 minutes. (You'll see why in a minute. Just do it.)

Now, if you're like me, you like your chicken to be flavorful--this requires a marinade. The simplest way to do this is to pop your chicken pieces into a ziploc bag with a few glugs of zesty Italian dressing and a few splashes of worchestershire sauce. Refridgerate for at least half an hour, and then you're ready to TCB.

On to the fun part--getting messy. I'm going to assume you're all somewhat familar with the process of breading something to be fried. You've at least eaten fried stuff, right? Of course ya have. Mix your desired seasoning combo into your flour in a pie plate. Put your eggy mixture next to that, and make sure you have your pan ready to cook.

Pat your chicken pieces dry, and wrap each piece in 2-3 bacon slices. This is where those soggy toothpicks come in--use them to keep the bacon in place. It works best if you push them all the way through, and then push them back in on one side so that they're barely poking through.

Next, dredge the bacon-wrapped chicken pieces (ie, put em) in the seasoned flour. Move them from there into the eggy mix, and then back into the flour. Make sure everything gets wet and then floured again--this is what makes the crispy crust so yummy!

After each piece is battered, gently place them in the hot oil. (Again, make sure the oil is all hot and bothered BEFORE you add the chicken. It's very important.) Once the first side is just about browned up--use a fork and your tongs (you know not to pierce your meat while cooking, right? Don't do it. It's BAD.) to remove the toothpicks. Be easy, we're dealing with hot oil here--use the fork to hold the chicken down, tongs (or your fingers, if you're brave/have hands made of asbestos) and pull the toothpicks out. Then flip the chicken pieces (with the tongs! don't use your hands!) and finish cooking.

Tada! All done. (Don't forget to turn the burner off...not that I've ever left it on and filled the entire house with smoky ick...but, yanno...just make sure you turn it off.)

Now, as far as side dishes go, you have options. You could make fried potatoes--with onions if you wanna get REALLY into the Southern thang--or you can just whip up some mashed potatoes, top em with a little gravy (which you could make yourself...or you could take some help from the store and stir up some packaged gravy.)

If you can get ahold of some fresh corn, shuck em, put em on sheets of foil along with butter, and some Garlic Garni or a little salt and pepper, wrap em up, and bake for about 15 minutes on 375.
Or you can just serve up Ma's old fashioned red beans--which take a while to make, but they're good.

If you're really into the whole plating thing, you could crisp up a couple pieces of bacon and crumble them over the chicken--or the mashed potatoes, whichever you want. I usually just pile it all on a plate and chow down, but hey, whatever floats your boat.

May 13, 2009

::You Must Be THIS MUCH Injun to Ride::

Chukma! (That's hello in Chickasaw.) I'm gonna start off by saying that I rather like belonging to the Chickasaw Nation. They've been pretty nice to me...they pay my bills on occasion, they gave me a laptop, and they even give me money for college and clothes. I'd say that's pretty cool of them.

What really gets under my skin though, is this business of the blood quantum requirements. If I had the resources, I'd do a survey--and just tabulate how many 'citizens,' like me, do not meet the quantum requirements...to be governor, for example. I can understand the age requirement...but...quantum restrictions? Psh.

I also noticed that one must meet the 1/4 requirement to be elected a Chickasaw Princess--not a job I'd be inclined to reach for...but still. What does that tell the girls who do not posses the requisite 1/4 quantum? That they are not worthy of recognition by their tribe? What a crock, eh?

So, really...I suppose it boils down to the question that haunts every person of mixed ancestry--Am I white? (I really do look it.) Am I Native American? (I am quite emotionally attached to the idea...and I *have* studied the history of my tribe, its culture, and its language.) It's an issue that is ongoing...and neither side offers much in the way of solace for those struggling. It's quite obvious that there is nobody clamoring for white/European culture to be preserved. Not really anyway. So why lock out those of us (well, me at least) who may not meet the minimum quantum requirement--but are truly passionate about the preservation of the customs of the tribe? Doesn't make much sense to me.

Well, that's about all I've got to say...Chi Pisa La Cho (I will see you, in Chickasaw, of course.)

May 10, 2009

The crappiest thing about poetry...

...besides the fact that people don't seem to enjoy it as they should *ahem*, is that the person/people/thing the poem is about/for rarely, if ever, sees it. Sure, if the poet writes about their significant other, odds are he/she/they will read it, but even that one's not always a given. Who knows, it might be...how do I say this...unpleasant for both parties, depending on the subject matter. But that's not my point, at least not tonight.

So, yeah, sometimes poetry is crappy in that it sometimes goes unnoticed--but there are myriad ways in which poetry can be very, VERY awesome. Say, for example, you are really upset at someone...or about something...in prose, you kind of have to lay it all out there. Not so with poetry, at least not every time. You can hide your anger, your disappointment, your grief--simply tuck it away in a word, a phrase, or a symbol--and nobody will ever know. But you'll know...and it's out there...just waiting...for someone to read it and say 'hmmm...she sounds pissed/upset/confused/whatever...'

Which brings me full circle, back to the crappy thing about poetry. Ain't that a bitch.

Apr 4, 2009

::Eat This Book::

Have you ever read a book so good you want to read it over and over til you've digested every single word of it? I have: The Last Chinese Chef. You may have heard of it...but if you haven't, let me enlighten you. Nicole Mones, the author....is simply fantastic. Her carefully crafted tale of food, of love, of guanxi--you will have to read it to understand--it draws the reader into the intricate pattern of people, places, food, and tradition in a way I have never experienced.

As you follow the wandering trail through the intricacies of this novel, direct your browser here. You'll find many of the recipes described in the novel--after Mones' descriptions, you may find yourself eager, as I was, to attempt to recreate the marvelous dishes and revel in the meaning so deeply embedded in every ingredient. After eating only one dish--which, I'm sure, as an American home cook with little experience in Asian cooking, I butchered sacrilegiously--I could not help but to re-read the novel. The second reading proved better than the first, as I knew it would.

Crazy, isn't it, how a single book can transport you to far away places in your mind--and then convince you that you, too, should travel there, and experience this for yourself.

---And now I'm off to gather the ingredients for another dish from the book: Beggar's Chicken.

Psst....don't forget to check out Cameron's story, and our birthday wish, here.

Apr 1, 2009

A DELICIOUS Meal...& A Poem

I love cooking--especially since my spiffy new cutlery set arrived. (So it's supposed to be my birthday present from the hubs...and that's not til the 16th--Hello? I picked it out, ordered it, and signed for the package. My birthday came early this year. For real.) Anyhow, Blog-Land dwellers, I thought I'd share a spectacular recipe-ish thing that I (sort of) made up.

And it's easy. REALLY easy.

It has been dubbed: Effin' Delicious Chicken. For good reason. You'll see why.

Let's get started!

First, you need Butter. (Yes, with a capital B.) The real stuff--not that sissy Country Crock. I use a lot of it. You don't (necessarily) have to. But you should.

Flat leaf parsley. Same idea as the butter. You don't even have to chop it up. How easy is that?

Garlic. I chop mine. More garlic flavor that way. If you want it less garlicky, thrown in whole cloves. Or crushed ones. Yep. That's how it works.

Chicken Thighs--however many you need. You can use breasts or whatever if you want--but WHY? (Seriously.)

Bacon. Slices of it. Enough of them to cover the chicken. I cut them in half, but you do whatever you want. Just put the bacon on the skin. (hehe.)

Pop everything into a baking dish. Then the chicken. Then put the bacon on top. Cover with foil. Bake at 350 for about an hour. Then uncover. Bake longer. Til the bacon's crispy. This whole process usually takes about 15 minutes--but if you're impatient, you can always pop the whole deal under the broiler. Just be careful. Nobody likes burnt bacon.)

Now, while the chicken is baking away, it wouldn't be right not to make something to go with it--even if it IS good enough to eat the entire pan of bacon-y scrumptiousness on it's own. That's where the polenta comes in.

That's pretty easy too. You have two options. You can be SUPER lazy and buy tubes of pre-made polenta at the market, slice it into rounds, top with mozzarella and Parmesan, and bake til the cheese is bubbly...which is fine. Just lazy.

Or, you can make your own polenta--any basic polenta recipe will do, I use the one in my handy-dandy Better Crocker cookbook. Mhmm. See, once the polenta is 'done'...you layer it with butter, mozzarella, and Parmesan...and then top with MORE cheese...and bake it for about 20 minutes. At 350. How convenient, right? Add a salad--not an iceberg salad, for crying out loud, be creative--and you're good to go.

By the time the polenta's done, everything should be ready. And DELICIOUS.

And now, as promised--the poem:
Asphodel
I gave her daffodils
Gifts from the Goddess--
An offering of that which comes early
In memory of one who left too soon.
Signs of spring plucked
On a warm, windy morning,
With brightest hopes that their
Beauty would bring the joy
Of Earth's rebirth in Spring
To her troubled soul--
So that part of the asphodel-covered meadows
In which departed souls with Homer wander
Would bring her comfort--
Once the brightest stars in the Sky,
sent Earth-ward to brighten the spirits of those below.

© Amanda Dill 2009

WARNING--grammar and humor in one post--contents may explode.

So, I'm on the ATEG listserv (I think that's American Teachers of English Grammar, but I'd have to look it up to be sure. It's bunch of grammarians emailing each other stuff.) Anyway, I usually read and go on...but today...I couldn't help getting involved in one of the topics of discussion. I'll repost the messages here, but without the people's names...anyway, you'll see.

******

Query on the use of the word 'got':

Isn’t this a good example of very poor usage? Unless my memory is very bad, it would have been cause for points off in my freshmen composition class. A sad commentary on the state of news writing in 2009

But Farley noted that bill sponsor Assemblyman Peter Abbate Jr., D-Brooklyn, hasn’t yet gotten a Democrat to introduce the bill in the Senate. The Democrats won control of the Senate this year.

One of the responses:

I tell my students that ‘got’ is the illegitimate child of the helping verb family.

Another, with a side-note on that response:

This looks like a good example of why we need to carefully distinguish “colloquial” from “ungrammatical.” I advise students to switch to the canonical passive in formal writing, but I view that as stylistic advice, not as a grammatical injunction.
As a side note on your analogy: Given the frequency with which helping verbs pair up with main verbs, I would expect a very, very large set of illegitimate offspring. It’s one of the many grey areas in grammar, and perhaps we should adjust to modernity and legalize grey marriage in this case.


*****

What? I thought it was HILARIOUS.

Mar 31, 2009

Psst: You Like This Book!

Consider this your PSA for the Day. :)

Helen Kay Dimon is fantastic (and she's a blog-friend, so yes, WE like her.) Plus, she writes about *spicy* women...what's not to love? Anywho--the point of this post (love that alliteration, didja notice?) is to show ya'll this sexy cover ------->

...and to tell you that IT'S HOTTER IN HAWAII is now available. Not to get all Martha-Stewart-y or anything, this is a Good Thing. You should go buy it. Yes. Like, right now.

And once you've bought it, read it, and told me how much you LOVE it...you can check out Helen Kay Dimon's blog.

Edited to Add:

AND, lovelies, Miz Dimon just posted info on a spectacular contest--here you go:

::Uno Mas::

I love going to school. Really. I do. That doesn't change the fact that I am SUPER excited to be FINISHING my Bachelors next semester. I mean, the folks in the English and Languages department at ECU are fantastic--but...I'm ready to vacate. It's gonna be a fun last semester though. :) More on that later--like, after the summer break!

In other news--the 'career fair' thing is taking place tomorrow at the University. I'm going, but I can't imagine anything I'd like to do LESS. It's like voluntarily walking into a two-hour job interview--in which you have no idea who your interviewers will be, or what they'll expect. Sure, we know what schools/companies will be there--but many of them don't have much info on their websites--if they have one. This *is* Oklahoma, after all. /sigh

Anywho, don't forget to check out Cameron's story, and our birthday wish, here.