on your special day
How are you dear heart? I feel that we are a bit out of touch these days, don’t you? Used to be that you were always feeling things very strongly and wanting me to know about your feelings immediately. I remember in the early days ,oh when we were about 10 or so, you used to get very upset about poverty and injustice. You used to ache so much whenever you heard or read about people starving. You made me do research into poverty and its causes and you were horrified when I found out that in fact we have enough food to feed everyone in the world. Just that some people live in countries where they have limited access or are denied access. I tried to understand why any government would destroy crops and food in times of abundance, instead of sending it to the places where people were seriously malnourished ad struggling to get by on a handful of rice. Just so that prices would not fall. I couldn’t understand why it was more important for wallets to be full rather then stomachs? You were very unhappy and sent me on a journey from Singapore to London, Copenhagen and finally New York in efforts to change things. At first I thought that you would be happy if I worked in theatre. You lifted and expanded and burst into song whenever I worked on a new play or creation. But even though you were full of zest, the rest of me had a hard time. My stomach protested at the careful skimming, my body wanted a nicer warmer apartment and so we decided on a compromise.
I now work for a community based organization in the not for profit world and you are satisfied by the feeling of doing good and helping others. The sense of a larger purpose seems to be fulfilling for you. And the disappointment you felt when I got divorced has faded. You’ve bounced back and even allowed yourself to be open to new romance. It took a while because I had convinced myself that I did not need love and that I was happy with friends and career. But you ignored me and let love back in. Thank you for bouncing back, for being so big and forgiving and leading me to a happy new life.
Sujatha
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
A President for the World
I debated whether I should write about the inauguration – surely the last thing we needed was yet another article about the inauguration. There’s already a zillion covering every perspective possible from Oprah’s post inaugural celeb studded show to the ten year old aspiring journalist from Bed-stuy who travelled to DC on a quest to interview Obama. Let’s not even mention the endless coverage of Michelle’s clothes, Beyonce’s song and the kids concert.
But if this is not a moment in time that deserved momentous attention then what is? So here goes. We watched it with friends crowded around a large flat screen at Madiba’s, the South African restaurant on Dekalb Avenue in Fort Green Brooklyn. All the restaurants on the strip were humming as people kept pouring in feeling the need to collectively witness the historic moment. I ended up sitting on the bar, a mimosa in hand, my arm draped around my husband’s neck feeling incredibly happy. When Barak arrived loud cheers erupted. I had never seen him so serious – for once he was not Mr. super cool. He had the weight of the world’s problems on his shoulders. The speech was wonderful and I look forward to reading it again.
Right after the inauguration, we left to go to work and my husband said to me “congratulations hon” alluding to the months of canvassing and volunteer hours that I and millions of others had poured into the process. The irony of it is that my husband is African American, male, grew up in this country while I am none of the above. It’s clear why he identifies with this victory but why do I identify so much with this incredible feat?
I have nothing in common with the new President. I definitely would not photograph as well in a swimsuit and until last Spring I had never been to Chicago. I haven’t published a paper let alone three books and I definitely lack the savvy to be successful in government. But I too grew up in a huge family which is spread over the four continents including a brother in Hawaii, a sister until recently in Kenya, and I too want to do good.
Through this man, Americans have re- claimed their ideals, their way of life and as he declared in his victory speech ensured that “democracy is well and alive.” But his victory is not only an American victory. My brother who lives in Singapore when he is not elsewhere told me on the phone that after the election results in November, he saw several young boys carrying American flags, something he had never seen before in his country. Millions all over the world look at Barak’s victory and see doors where before they saw walls.
For those of us in the US, whose closest blood family are long plane rides away, Obama’s victory once again energizes the pursuit of our individual dreams. The sacrifices are worthwhile.
But if this is not a moment in time that deserved momentous attention then what is? So here goes. We watched it with friends crowded around a large flat screen at Madiba’s, the South African restaurant on Dekalb Avenue in Fort Green Brooklyn. All the restaurants on the strip were humming as people kept pouring in feeling the need to collectively witness the historic moment. I ended up sitting on the bar, a mimosa in hand, my arm draped around my husband’s neck feeling incredibly happy. When Barak arrived loud cheers erupted. I had never seen him so serious – for once he was not Mr. super cool. He had the weight of the world’s problems on his shoulders. The speech was wonderful and I look forward to reading it again.
Right after the inauguration, we left to go to work and my husband said to me “congratulations hon” alluding to the months of canvassing and volunteer hours that I and millions of others had poured into the process. The irony of it is that my husband is African American, male, grew up in this country while I am none of the above. It’s clear why he identifies with this victory but why do I identify so much with this incredible feat?
I have nothing in common with the new President. I definitely would not photograph as well in a swimsuit and until last Spring I had never been to Chicago. I haven’t published a paper let alone three books and I definitely lack the savvy to be successful in government. But I too grew up in a huge family which is spread over the four continents including a brother in Hawaii, a sister until recently in Kenya, and I too want to do good.
Through this man, Americans have re- claimed their ideals, their way of life and as he declared in his victory speech ensured that “democracy is well and alive.” But his victory is not only an American victory. My brother who lives in Singapore when he is not elsewhere told me on the phone that after the election results in November, he saw several young boys carrying American flags, something he had never seen before in his country. Millions all over the world look at Barak’s victory and see doors where before they saw walls.
For those of us in the US, whose closest blood family are long plane rides away, Obama’s victory once again energizes the pursuit of our individual dreams. The sacrifices are worthwhile.
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