I have a new friend. She is new to this planet, having arrived here just last February. Her mom and I became friends a couple of years ago in a college class, and in my spare time I babysit. It's nice because it gives me some money apart from my regular job, and my new friend is the bee's knees.
She has super long eyelashes, but not much hair. She is a snuggler, and I love to snuggle. She is one of those babies that just kind of leans and cuddles in, and loves to be held. Her mom told me that she and the dad don't use the "P" word around her, but she hears it a lot when they go out. Pretty. I mean, I get it that they don't want her looks to define her. And she is more than just a pretty face. She is smart and funny and crawls both backward and forward and pulls herself up on things.
She seems to think that I am the bee's knees, too, because when she sees me she smiles and puts her arms out for me to pick her up. Yesterday she did that, and I took her and we were just sort of talking and I said, "So how ya doin', Princess?" I gasped and immediately looked at her mom. "Uh, another "P" word, huh?" Her mom smiled good naturedly and said, "Yeah, we try not to use that one either."
But the thing is, as soon as I said the "P" word, my friend broke out in the biggest smile ever and laughed. She knows she is a princess, and she likes it that I get that about her, her princessness, or princesshood. If anyone would understand, it would be me. I drive a pink car, for goodness' sake.
So I had a little talk with my friend and told her that we are more than our looks, that we are smart and funny and talented and kind and wonderful and strong, and the sky is the limit as to what we can accomplish. I asked her if she knew that Barack Obama (Can you say "Barack Obama"?) was re-elected President, and that he respects women and will work to make sure no one puts baby in a binder? She thought that was funny, that baby in a binder thing. So I said it a bunch of times really fast. Babyinabinderbabyinabinderbabyinabinder.
We can be anything we want to be. Scientists and professors and mechanics and well, maybe one day soon Hillary Clinton (Can you say "Hillary Clinton"?) will become the first woman President of the United States. It is wonderful to be a girl. It is the best thing ever, to be a girl in a world like the one we live in today.
Her mom had Sesame Street on, and I told my friend about PBS and how Big Bird and Elmo and Abby weren't going anywhere. Today's post has been brought to you by the letter "P," and it's for all the pretty princesses everywhere.
Susan
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
Friday, November 9, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
The Morning After
Yesterday I had one of the best days of my life. I worked at the election precinct a few miles from my home. It was my first time working at the polls, and I was looking forward to it. There were four of us who met at 5:45 am at an elementary school a few miles from my home. We set up outside the library, in a small area of the auditorium.
The principal of the school stopped by when she arrived at work, and made us feel welcome by showing us the location of the rest rooms and the break room. She told us to feel free to use the fridge and the microwave, and help ourselves to the coffee.
Classes of kids came by with their teachers, who patiently explained the process. Some of them would vote in their classes. Throughout the school day, the occasional stray kid, maybe on his way to the restroom, would curiously look as he walked by.
It was an efficient process, and I like efficiency. The four us of were comprised of two retired men, both of them Vietnam War veterans, myself and a 17-year-old high school student. She isn't old enough to vote, but old enough to work at the polls. The men were both interesting people. One of them worked the polls for the first time during one of the Reagan elections. Of course, we didn't talk politics or anything partisan because we were simply there to facilitate the voting process. But when you spend 15 hours with total strangers, of course you talk and get to know each other. The young woman was well spoken and composed, and I was happy that both men treated her like the adult that she is. We had some good conversation, some serious and of course just the kidding around and joking that goes along with working side by side with people.
We had potentially 115 voters who would walk in that day, and by the time we got into our cars at 8;30 that night, we had a turnout of 100. That is a pretty healthy percentage. Fifty-five percent of voters in my county are mail ballot voters. It was good to see that people care. It was good to see that no matter our differing opinions, we all take part in a process that means each vote counts equally.
Often throughout the day, voters would thank us for being there, for donating our time. That was nice to hear. I mostly smiled when they said that and said, "My pleasure." And it was. Oh, there was a time around 2:00 where I thought I would collapse, but somehow I caught a second wind and was soon perky again.
We had a small flag in our box of supplies that we hung on a bulletin board. When we were packing up, I took the flag down and got it ready to put back in its envelope. I folded it and thought about what it means to be an American. I thought about my older son, who spent eight years serving his country, and came back safe and sound. It thought about all the mothers who weren't so lucky, whose sons and daughters paid the ultimate price so that I could sit in an elementary school auditorium and be a part of this amazing democratic process. I thought about how we should choose to fix our problems, not with vicious words and guns, but peaceably at the ballot box. I thought that this is who we are at our very best.
We had no long lines. We had no glitches. Not one voter was made to feel uncomfortable. It all went seamlessly and smoothly, as it should. I was glad to hear the President say in his speech last night that the long lines were something that would be fixed. We should be making it easy for people to vote, not difficult. I hope I did that yesterday.
My county is always looking for people to work the polls. Maybe there is a shortage of folks in your area to do that as well. Maybe you will think about doing it some time. Maybe you could have one of the best days of your life, too.
Susan
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The principal of the school stopped by when she arrived at work, and made us feel welcome by showing us the location of the rest rooms and the break room. She told us to feel free to use the fridge and the microwave, and help ourselves to the coffee.
Classes of kids came by with their teachers, who patiently explained the process. Some of them would vote in their classes. Throughout the school day, the occasional stray kid, maybe on his way to the restroom, would curiously look as he walked by.
It was an efficient process, and I like efficiency. The four us of were comprised of two retired men, both of them Vietnam War veterans, myself and a 17-year-old high school student. She isn't old enough to vote, but old enough to work at the polls. The men were both interesting people. One of them worked the polls for the first time during one of the Reagan elections. Of course, we didn't talk politics or anything partisan because we were simply there to facilitate the voting process. But when you spend 15 hours with total strangers, of course you talk and get to know each other. The young woman was well spoken and composed, and I was happy that both men treated her like the adult that she is. We had some good conversation, some serious and of course just the kidding around and joking that goes along with working side by side with people.
We had potentially 115 voters who would walk in that day, and by the time we got into our cars at 8;30 that night, we had a turnout of 100. That is a pretty healthy percentage. Fifty-five percent of voters in my county are mail ballot voters. It was good to see that people care. It was good to see that no matter our differing opinions, we all take part in a process that means each vote counts equally.
Often throughout the day, voters would thank us for being there, for donating our time. That was nice to hear. I mostly smiled when they said that and said, "My pleasure." And it was. Oh, there was a time around 2:00 where I thought I would collapse, but somehow I caught a second wind and was soon perky again.
We had a small flag in our box of supplies that we hung on a bulletin board. When we were packing up, I took the flag down and got it ready to put back in its envelope. I folded it and thought about what it means to be an American. I thought about my older son, who spent eight years serving his country, and came back safe and sound. It thought about all the mothers who weren't so lucky, whose sons and daughters paid the ultimate price so that I could sit in an elementary school auditorium and be a part of this amazing democratic process. I thought about how we should choose to fix our problems, not with vicious words and guns, but peaceably at the ballot box. I thought that this is who we are at our very best.
We had no long lines. We had no glitches. Not one voter was made to feel uncomfortable. It all went seamlessly and smoothly, as it should. I was glad to hear the President say in his speech last night that the long lines were something that would be fixed. We should be making it easy for people to vote, not difficult. I hope I did that yesterday.
My county is always looking for people to work the polls. Maybe there is a shortage of folks in your area to do that as well. Maybe you will think about doing it some time. Maybe you could have one of the best days of your life, too.
Susan
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Monday, November 5, 2012
Election Day
He was my first. I was just a girl of 18. His name? Jimmy Carter. The first time I ever voted was in the 1976 Presidential election. To my American readers: who was your first? Is this election your first?
When my grandmothers were born, women were not permitted to vote in our country. Even today, under the guise of being concerned about "voter fraud," some would deny others this right. To me, it is a right and a privilege and a duty. It seems disrespectful to suffragettes who worked so hard to make sure I could vote, not to do so.
I have already voted, since I am a mail ballot voter. I hope you will do the same, even if it's for "that other guy."
Susan
When my grandmothers were born, women were not permitted to vote in our country. Even today, under the guise of being concerned about "voter fraud," some would deny others this right. To me, it is a right and a privilege and a duty. It seems disrespectful to suffragettes who worked so hard to make sure I could vote, not to do so.
I have already voted, since I am a mail ballot voter. I hope you will do the same, even if it's for "that other guy."
Susan
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Sisters
Former CNN reporter Campbell Brown has a piece in The New York Times in which she says the President is condescending toward women. Her husband (Dan Senor) is a Mitt Romney advisor. While it is entirely possible that has nothing to do with the price of tea in China (as my grandma would say) it does give me cause to pause. Or maybe, there is a job opening at Fox News (where her husband is a contributor) and she's ready to go back to work?
I am thankful I live in a country where the President can be freely and openly criticized, and Brown's high profile gives her a platform from which to do it that most of us other Americans don't have. Go for it. I think the President can handle it.
It's funny how candidates fight over us women like high school kids at the prom, wanting to dance with the homecoming queen. Thinking female people have the same concerns that thinking male people have, and we have some very serious problems in our country that all of us should be working on together.
Yesterday at work a customer, a gentleman old enough to be my father, called me "Sweetheart" and told me I was smart. I didn't feel patronized, because frankly I am both sweet and smart, and I think he was a very wise man to recognize this right away. Or maybe he was hitting on me, which is concerning because he was 80 if he was a day...
Seriously now. Men sometimes feel like they just can't win with us women, that they have to watch what they say so carefully because we are overly sensitive. All Brown did was reinforce that old stereotype. And while she may have done her husband a favor, and while she may have done Romney a favor, she didn't help a sister out at all.
Susan
I am thankful I live in a country where the President can be freely and openly criticized, and Brown's high profile gives her a platform from which to do it that most of us other Americans don't have. Go for it. I think the President can handle it.
It's funny how candidates fight over us women like high school kids at the prom, wanting to dance with the homecoming queen. Thinking female people have the same concerns that thinking male people have, and we have some very serious problems in our country that all of us should be working on together.
Yesterday at work a customer, a gentleman old enough to be my father, called me "Sweetheart" and told me I was smart. I didn't feel patronized, because frankly I am both sweet and smart, and I think he was a very wise man to recognize this right away. Or maybe he was hitting on me, which is concerning because he was 80 if he was a day...
Seriously now. Men sometimes feel like they just can't win with us women, that they have to watch what they say so carefully because we are overly sensitive. All Brown did was reinforce that old stereotype. And while she may have done her husband a favor, and while she may have done Romney a favor, she didn't help a sister out at all.
Susan
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Grow Up
Rick Santorum sat behind me in homeroom in high school. I'm not a fan, being the bleeding heart liberal that I am. But it is disconcerting to think that my high school class might be running the country. President Obama is, in fact, a few years younger than me. Do you ever feel like you're not really a grown up?
My grandchildren's birthday parties are a mixture of kids and adults, and while I always spend some time visiting with all the other grown-ups, I would much prefer hanging out with the kids. The last party was at a bowling alley, and my 7-year-old granddaughter urged me to put on some bowling shoes and join her on the wood floor for some tap dancing. Now, that girl knows how to have fun!
I was 36 when I became the owner of a small business. I knew all the people at the local bank by name, and was in there almost on a daily basis. One day the teller, as she was taking my deposit, asked me, "So, are they nice people to work for?" I asked her, "Who?" She answered, "The owners of the travel agency." I told her I was the owner and her jaw dropped.
When I was married, we would occasionally entertain my ex-husband's clients when a deal closed. I remember distinctly one evening when we were at one of the most expensive restaurants in our city. You know the kind, where they ask if you would like spring or sparkling water and you just feel tacky making your guests drink tap water. There were two clients, one woman and her husband, and one man and his wife. They were all at least ten years younger than me. The men all had on dress slacks and sweaters, and the two women were very conservatively dressed, both in black. Like grown-up ladies. I had on a pink and purple dress and purple animal print high heels. It was the first time they all had met me. During dinner, everyone was talking business in general terms, and the ups and downs of the deal in specifics. I would chime in the conversation when it seemed appropriate. At one point, I made some comment, and I noticed everyone looking at me and smiling. I wasn't quite sure why they were, because I wasn't making a joke, and then both women almost simultaneously said, "Ahhhh!" and one of them looked at my ex-husband and said, "Your wife is so cute!" I wasn't trying to be cute. Cute is just not something on my to-do list. I sort of felt like a bunny or a kitten, then I decided to simply take it as a compliment.
The food was excellent and the service superb, and the clients were sufficiently impressed. No one else had room for dessert, but I always do. That is because I save room for it as I am eating my dinner. Always save room for dessert. And tap dance in bowling shoes any chance you get.
Susan
My grandchildren's birthday parties are a mixture of kids and adults, and while I always spend some time visiting with all the other grown-ups, I would much prefer hanging out with the kids. The last party was at a bowling alley, and my 7-year-old granddaughter urged me to put on some bowling shoes and join her on the wood floor for some tap dancing. Now, that girl knows how to have fun!
I was 36 when I became the owner of a small business. I knew all the people at the local bank by name, and was in there almost on a daily basis. One day the teller, as she was taking my deposit, asked me, "So, are they nice people to work for?" I asked her, "Who?" She answered, "The owners of the travel agency." I told her I was the owner and her jaw dropped.
When I was married, we would occasionally entertain my ex-husband's clients when a deal closed. I remember distinctly one evening when we were at one of the most expensive restaurants in our city. You know the kind, where they ask if you would like spring or sparkling water and you just feel tacky making your guests drink tap water. There were two clients, one woman and her husband, and one man and his wife. They were all at least ten years younger than me. The men all had on dress slacks and sweaters, and the two women were very conservatively dressed, both in black. Like grown-up ladies. I had on a pink and purple dress and purple animal print high heels. It was the first time they all had met me. During dinner, everyone was talking business in general terms, and the ups and downs of the deal in specifics. I would chime in the conversation when it seemed appropriate. At one point, I made some comment, and I noticed everyone looking at me and smiling. I wasn't quite sure why they were, because I wasn't making a joke, and then both women almost simultaneously said, "Ahhhh!" and one of them looked at my ex-husband and said, "Your wife is so cute!" I wasn't trying to be cute. Cute is just not something on my to-do list. I sort of felt like a bunny or a kitten, then I decided to simply take it as a compliment.
The food was excellent and the service superb, and the clients were sufficiently impressed. No one else had room for dessert, but I always do. That is because I save room for it as I am eating my dinner. Always save room for dessert. And tap dance in bowling shoes any chance you get.
Susan
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