#NationalLovingDay

50^th Anniversary of SC ruling in Loving v Virginia: Interracial Marriage is Legal.

Fifty years ago, on June 12, 1967, the Supreme Court ruled to strike down miscegenation laws prohibiting interracial marriage. This ruling meant it was now legal to marry interracially in all 50 of the United States. “There can be no doubt that restricting the freedom to marry solely because of racial classifications violates the central meaning of the equal protection clause (Equal Protection and Due Process Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment. Pp. 4-1),” stated the Supreme Court in the Loving vs. Virginia ruling.

Prior to this ruling, 16 states still considered it a punishable offense to marry interracially. It is difficult to believe that just 50 years ago, in 16 different states, it was still illegal to marry the person you loved if their skin color and ethnicity was different than yours. In addition to Virginia (the state named in this monumental lawsuit), the remaining fifteen states included Alabama, Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, North Carolina, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, and West Virginia.

All of this happened because a young couple who had been childhood friends, grew up in Virginia and fell in love. In 1958, Mildred and Richard traveled to Washington D.C. to marry, then returned home to Virginia, despite the state law that forbid this in their home state. Upon arriving back in Virginia, they were promptly arrested for their interracial marriage. To avoid jailtime, they agreed to leave Virginia, so they moved back to D.C. where they had wed, and immediately began working towards fighting miscegenation laws. Nine years after, in 1967, the Supreme Court ruled in their favor, overruling all state laws prohibiting interracial marriage throughout all fifty states.

Two years ago this month, a similar battle was won on a more contemporary controversy. On June 26, 2015, the Supreme Court again ruled in favor of love, by determining in the Obergefell v Hodges ruling that, "No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than they once were." This ruling by Justice Anthony Kennedy recognized on a national level the right to marry regardless of gender.  

Although the Supreme Court ruled that same sex marriages are legal, there are still states within the United States that do not recognize this ruling, and have state laws prohibiting same sex marriages. These states include: Arkansas, Georgia, Louisiana, Kentucky, Michigan, Missouri, Mississippi, Nebraska, North Dakota, Ohio, South Dakota, Tennessee, and Texas.

June 12 is National Loving Day, but we would do well to remember that every day should be a loving day. And, regardless of skin color, ethnicity, or gender, love knows no boundaries. As song writer Eden Ahbez wrote in the 1948 classic Nature Boy and David Bowie sang in the Disney movie Mulan, “The greatest thing you will ever learn is to love and be loved in return.”

#NationalLovingDay  #LoveWins

(written for YWCA MV)

early morning coffee

sleepless night.

a text in the early morn

what are you doing up? you ask

as night gives way to dawn.

Formica tabletop.

Steaming filled coffee cup.

Sugar packets piled.

We exchange tired words,

bright eyes,

a smile.

Early morning coffee

down at the corner store.

An unexpected visit,

but I couldn’t ask for more.

Looking in your eyes

all my days melt into one,

as I revel in the wonder

of my beloved son.

Janine Phillips

May 30, 2017

It's not about you, Mom.

“It’s not about you, Mom.”

That one sentence from my 19-year-old daughter (spoken with a stern, loving, “mom” voice) made me pull it together recently.

As my youngest of two children, my precious Allie Rose, prepares for her journey to Japan as a student in the Geneseo/Albany study abroad program, given the most recent international state-of-affairs, I have been in a terrible tailspin. Excited/frightened/sleepless with worry/panicked/excited. Every day I’ve been checking the news daily on North Korean missile-testing; wondering which political blunder might put us in a third world war, and how soon; will Americans be ushered immediately home if things fall apart; human trafficking concerns; what if ‘something’ happens to her… I could go on, but you get the idea.

And every time someone asked, or I told someone, “she leaves for Japan in (insert days, hours, minutes here),” the initial reaction from the listener would be excitement. But then the heat of the trepidation radiating from my motherly core would turn the conversation to consolation for me.

And that one line from Allie Rose woke me up.

It’s not about me. This blog can be about me, but Allie Rose’s Trip to Japan is about Allie Rose, and her Trip to Japan.

For some reason, that one line from my daughter who is wise beyond her years eased a great deal of my worry. It put reality into perspective. It instilled within me the confidence that she is going to be all right. My daughter may be going to Japan, but this is Alexandra Rose Giordano’s first on the list of Life Dreams coming true.

It is one of a succession of Life Dreams she is achieving.

She graduated high school in the top 10 % of her class. She is attending her third-choice college. Now she is going to Japan. Her next big dream is to live in different countries every year or so and teach English. She is not sure where she will settle down. But I know wherever that is, she will be okay.

One by one, Alexandra is ticking off her Life-to-Do list and nothing is slowing her down. And, this is good. This is how I raised her. (Remember, this blog is about me.) I wanted a daughter who was confident (or at least acted it), who was not afraid, who thought things through, but was guided by intuition. Who did what she was afraid to do, knowing it would make her stronger, better, and probably be fun after the initial scariness wore off. Who would not be put off by the patriarchal hierarchy that continues to oppress women even today.

Despite my worries, she is making life happen. Every now and then there are glimpses of my little girl – in a late night text; in an early morning snuggle; on a rainy afternoon watching television – but for the most part, I now can enjoy this new relationship with my very capable, intelligent, woman who is my daughter.

And, she is most definitely living up to the name we gave her as a child. Our Amazing Allie Rose.

One of the best lessons she has learned from me, and I am in turn now learning again from her, is one that I have tried to live each day. And, she is acing it. This is, simply…

Life is for living. So, live it.

Good luck, Allie Rose, following and finding your dreams.

May the Gods guide your every step and moment.

Life is for Living - Growing up at All Ages

Vol. 111 - Issue 11, 3/12/2009

As I write this my daughter, Allie Rose, is curled up in a tight ball on the love seat within view, exhausted from an early morning battle with a stomach bug that began just after 3 a.m. As is the usual lament of a mother, “I hate seeing my child sick.” She is my miracle baby. She is the one who defied destiny and persevered through pregnancy, after two previous failed attempts. She is the baby sister my son got after he prayed for a puppy. She is the one who had me off my feet and in bed the last month of my pregnancy, who hiccupped through hours of monitoring tests, ruining the results and causing me to return time and again before the doctors finally induced me into labor. Once she decided, “Okay it’s time,” she slipped into the world with three easy pushes. I remember looking at her alabaster face, with her bright red rosebud lips and weeping and laughing at the same time, so overwhelmed with holding my healthy baby girl. From the moment of her premature birth, Allie Rose was nothing like her brother, Anthony, who was content staying in that cozy little womb of mine for two weeks after his due date. Although she did not speak until after she was a year old, she was very determined to have her needs understood and met. And when she did finally speak, it was a sentence, not a baby sound. No. It was an order.  And if her orders were not met, she embraced that old adage, “If you want something done right, do it yourself.” Where Anthony would ask for milk, then wait patiently until I got it, Allie Rose would ask, and if I did not immediately serve Her Highness, I would usually find her hanging on the refrigerator door, attempting to get it herself. She was such a peanut she couldn’t even open the refrigerator. I doubt she ever thought about how she would actually pour a gallon of milk into her bottle by herself. You don’t think of those things at two, do you? Recently we flipped through her baby book, and when she got to the older age pages she noticed more and more gaps. When I suggested to leave it be and I would fill it in, she shook her head and grabbed a pen and told me that it was okay, she would do it. For a while we were worried she was going to be a clone of Anthony, as she idolizes every move he makes. While most brothers would tire of it, Anthony idolizes her in return, protecting and defending her against everyone, including herself sometimes. But lately she is becoming her own person. She likes her own music, her own favorite subjects in school, has her own taste in foods and clothing. She is growing up before my eyes. There are not too many days left for her to cuddle on my lap. She’s almost as tall as I am. This realization that my baby is growing up has changed my whole perspective on things. I’ve got a girlfriend to do things with again; girly things like going shopping, baking or doing our nails or hair together. Not waiting around for Allie Rose to catch up, Anthony has decided to grow up as well.  He’s driving, applying for his first job, and contemplating which college he will attend after graduating in 2010. And as I watch them both struggle with life’s changes, I wonder when I grew up. When did I become old enough to be a mom?  I look back on life, on my journey, and understand even more how things constantly change and consistently stay the same, all at the same time. As the snow melts and the earth warms slowly but surely, awakening with life again, I understand. Winter is fading and rebirth is all around us with the coming of Spring. Ostara, the Spring Equinox, reminds us that life sometimes rewards us with balance, a time of peace where we can regroup and plan for the coming days when the sun and earth will nourish all living things. With each season there are rewards and hardships, and so too, this is true with life. But its embracing those rewards and hardships for what they are, and letting them go when you have learned from them, that makes this life worth living. Now is the time to contemplate all we have, and it’s a time to be thankful, to prioritize and reflect on where we want to go in the future. Most of all, its a time to remember that life is for living, so live it.

Back to Top

Life is for Living - Women don't have to be victims

Vol. 109 - Issue 23, 6/7/2007

Women don’t have to be victims

Recently, I had the opportunity to take a self defense course at the American Martial Arts Institute in New Hartford. The two hour course taught by Grand Master Clifford Crandall was taken more out of curiosity than a need for protection. I wanted to see my boyfriend, David, who is an instructor there, get flipped onto his back in a demonstration. The only protection I ever envisioned myself needing was with Anthony, my overly rambunctious and very playful 15 year old son, who still thinks like a bear cub even though he towers over me. So I signed up not really knowing what to expect. The first part of the course was spent debunking myths about sexual assault. The remainder of the class, Crandall and his certified black belt instructors taught and demonstrated five hand moves and two kicks to be used should I ever be accosted. I wanted to giggle when they taught me the three moves to make a fist, because, as Muhammad Ali once said, “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” But I knew better not to giggle with a room full of third, fifth and 10th degree black belts. So I folded my fingers and thumb into a fist and beamed when they told me I did well. But as I kicked my first kick and punched my first punch, the smile was replaced with determination as the words Crandall had spoken earlier began to sink in. My first thought of “I’ll never be mugged,” or raped vanished as I thought of a date I’d been on when I was younger that nearly turned nasty. I thought of the more than a few girlfriends of mine who have been raped. I thought of the women I know who are in abusive relationships. I thought of the many “close calls” at the mall my female friends and I have encountered over the years. I thought of Internet dating and the dangers of meeting a stranger for the first time. Crandall pointed out that the averages are one in five of meeting up with a person who has the ability and background to do you harm each time you walk into a store, such as a convenience store. He pointed out that most people are not aware of who is around them. Most women look down and pretend they don’t see someone that makes them uncomfortable when out in public. Most women would not know what to do if they were grabbed. So we obey. As a result, we increase the odds of being raped, beaten or worse. Women are easy prey, that’s a fact that has held true from the beginning of time. But just being aware of our surroundings, and knowing what to do, can help keep us from becoming a statistic. So here are a few tips I learned from Crandall. It was well worth the $35. The next time I feel uncomfortable energy coming from someone nearby, I will look up and search the person out. He will not go away if I pretend he’s not there. But being able to identify him may change his mind about hurting me. If someone approaches me in an offensive manner, I will not freeze up with fear, or be afraid of being rude or overly dramatic, or (believe it or not) hurting their feelings. “Over 50 percent of all victims are raped by acquaintances, friends or families,” Crandall said. If they don’t heed my warnings or attempts at reasoning, I now know five hand techniques and two kicks to put enough distance between us so that I can get help. If out of my fear I forget the hand and feet techniques, I think it was ingrained enough in my brain to remember what not to do. Don’t bother aiming for the face if attacked. It’s ineffective in stopping them, and at best it will only leave scratches that they can then use as a defense in a legal battle. Don’t try to aim for the groin or between the legs. Contrary to popular belief this will never penetrate their clothing or protective stance to do enough harm. Rather, aim a kick at the knee, repeatedly. The knee only bends one way, and can be broken or severely damaged with a kick. If I can do it, anyone can. Once their knee is damaged they can’t give chase. There were many other tips Crandall gave that could save my life or at least keep me from serious harm. With a little practice, these moves will become second nature, so that if I ever am accosted, these moves will be automatic reflexes, not something to think about. But the main points he emphasized were basic facts that took me out of victim mind-set and made me realize I don’t have to take anything from anyone. Rapes occur not due to uncontrollable sexual desires, but as a need to overpower, a need for control. The same holds true with abusive relationships. If you’re in an abusive relationship, stop thinking you’re getting beat up because you did something wrong. It’s usually due to your partner’s need to control, something he is lacking in other parts of his life. Women do not ask to be raped by their dress or conduct, nor does age play a factor. Women as old as 90 have been raped and children as young as 6 months have been raped. It’s their fault, not yours. Most rapes do not occur by strangers, nor in a dark secluded alley at night. Many rapes occur in the daytime, at home or in your car. Keep your homes safe. Keep your wits about you. Know who is around you when you are walking to your car. Be aware of your surroundings. If you run, run to people, not to your car or home. They are hoping you will do that. If you can, take a self defense course. It may save your life. After all, life is for living. So live it.

Life is for Living - Lee the Horselogg

Vol. 109 - Issue 27, 7/5/2007

Life is for living, so live it

The man I met on the south side of Route 20 between Richfield Springs and West Winfield, as he traveled eastward following his life path, was red faced and looked to be possibly bordering on heat stroke due to the late afternoon summer heat. Parked on the side of the road, I got out of my car and waited for him to pull his wagon and horses closer, into the shade I had parked near, in consideration of his animals. However, he chose to park in the shade a quarter mile down the road, waiting for me to come to him. So I did the hoofing, not the horses. A few minutes later, I approached the wagon, as red faced as he, but smiled and waved, introducing myself. He looked annoyed and said nothing so I gave him my business card, along with another smile. I glanced behind him and saw his life packed up in the wagon, with his white dog looking just as weary beside him. He didn’t give me his name, but I figured he must be the man I had received numerous calls about throughout the day. People had periodically updated me with his location, and bits of his story. There weren’t too many people steering a covered wagon down Main Street. And I could tell he was not Amish. As he took my business card he handed me his and told me to get his story from the website, that he didn’t have time for an interview. I asked if he could just answer a couple of questions and he said no, he could not, that he had a schedule to keep. I had spent the last 40 minutes of a deadline day driving around looking for him, then waiting for him, only to get snubbed. I looked at his business card then up at him and said, “Well, Lee, can you at least give me a comment on how the trip has been so far?” “It’s been a blast.” I thought I detected sarcasm in his tone. “Can you confirm you will be staying at the Vet’s tonight?” “Yes.” “When will you be heading out in the morning?” Maybe he’d be more chipper in the morning. “I have no idea.” “Four or five? ”I don’t know.” “Eight?” “I have no idea.” I don’t think we even said goodbye. I pivoted in place and walked back to my car, got in and cranked the ignition, blasting my air conditioning to cool off. I too was overheated, both emotionally and physically. I sat on the side of the road recording what had just happened, more dejected with each word I scribbled. As I pulled away five minutes later, I realized that the man who used a tight schedule as a reason to deny me a story had not moved. A good 10-15 minutes in all had passed since I had first approached him. Enough time for a few good quotes. I drove away and continued to check the wagon, which remained immobile beneath the shade until I scaled the hill and he disappeared from my view. After checking his website, reading accounts of Lee the Horselogger, I questioned what had happened to the man I had met on the side of the road. The pictures looked the same, but the man in the picture was smiling. The words written about him on the website made him out to be down to earth, funny, profound, not the type to snub a reporter looking to tell his story. I read his story and learned we had a lot in common. We both had battled cancer in our lifetimes, we both believed in the power of healing through holistic means. We both learned similar life lessons and felt the world, nature was a better institution of education than a brick building. We both believe in pursuing your life dream before it’s too late. I remembered the days spent battling cancer, dealing with treatments and dealing with the pain and exhaustion. I don’t know if I could have managed a horse drawn wagon day after day, in sweltering heat. All I wanted to do was sleep when I was sick. But still. I was disappointed. Traveling from Montana to Boston is no easy trip in a car, I can’t imagine what it must be like in a wagon. So I’ll chalk his behavior up to heat exhaustion, weariness from traveling all day, and being talked out from stopping dozens of times along the way that day. That’s pretty much all I can say about Lee the Horselogger. If you want to read about his story, as he put it, “get it from the website,” www.leethehorselogger.com. Oh, one more thing. He and I may not have much in common, but we do believe that life is for living. So, live it.

Life is for Living - Don't be afraid to take out your tree

Vol.111 - Issue 4, 1/22/2009

I have a horrible confession to make. Or maybe it’s just a simple testimony to my life lately. Either way, it’s not me, and it’s mortifying, but I will say it anyway. My Yule tree is still up. For those of you who do not celebrate Yule, basically, it’s a Christmas tree. Yep. I’m looking at my calendar and wondering where did the time go? All I can say is that it went to life. I can list a number of reasons why I have not taken it down yet. We’re headspinningly busy all the time. My kids have better social lives than I do. Even so, there are coven gatherings. Working late. I go to bed earlier since I’ve taken this position as editor than I have since my kids started sleeping through the night. Another important reason is that this is the prettiest tree we have ever had, and I just can’t bear to see it go. As I was looking at my tree last night I realized how much it really and truly symbolizes my life. Even with all its imperfections, it is perfect. On bad years, the years where I couldn’t wait to “ring out the old,” the tree was out the door before Little Christmas. Not too long ago I had it down and out the next day. That only happened once in my entire adult life. It was a bad year. But the year 2008 was amazing from the start and it only got better. It was sad to see the year end, but on the other hand, I was excited for all of the changes taking place in 2009. Maybe tonight after I get home from a deadline day we will do it. David and I are planning to do this together, ceremonially removing the symbols and trinkets collected over our individual lives, throughout the years, each symbolizing different, important events, each holding cherished memories. This is our second holiday shared together with David as part of our family and now we have new ornaments and symbols, so our tree is different then anything it ever looked like before. Yet, it’s still the same. And we want to honor it and all it stands for by taking it down with care and meaning. This once ordinary conifer has been pampered since we found it. We picked it out as a family, with Ant and Allie Rose, and Tom, too, joining us. A few days later, the kids and David and I decorated. When it was done, we lay under the branches looking up at the sparkles and dangly trinkets, glass orbs and homemade crafts and said, “This is the prettiest tree we ever had.” And we meant it. Why am I writing about Yule trees at the end of January? Change. Sometimes we come to points in our lives where we need to make changes. Sometimes this comes out of necessity, sometimes out of survival. Sometimes just because change is inevitable. And good. Change means that life is moving on; free from stagnation, which only leads to illness, decay and death. My whole life is changing around me, constantly. Sometimes it’s a whirlwind. But I hang on and dig my heels in and know that eventually things will stop spinning and all will be good. Sometimes I am in control of the changes, sometimes not. So maybe this is why I am holding on to my tree. It is the only aspect of my life that I can ultimately decide its fate. I cannot control any of the people in my life, only myself. And my tree. I’ve thought about taking the ornaments, candy canes and bead garlands off, leaving the lights and star up. I’ve thought about moving it out to the front porch and keeping it lit, symbolizing the strengthening of the sun as we move out of the darkness of winter.  And I’ve thought about just getting Ant to drag it to the woods and be done with it. That would be sad, as all endings are. But it’s the most logical thing to do. There are many wonderful things that happened in 2008. But I need to let go, and just hold close the memories, and move on. The tree was in its most beautiful state when it was still a living tree. We picked it out from maybe a hundred or so cut evergreens, laying in some private entrepreneur’s front yard on Route 28, south of Mohawk, just as you come up Vickerman’s hill. For $20 we bought memories that will last a long time. Can’t go wrong with that. It was the prettiest tree there, and that is why we chose it. As the boughs settled after a few days, we realized that there was a lot of excess, so we began to trim. And trim. And trim. Until finally we had it. It fit perfectly into its designated spot and was even prettier, if possible. We strung lights, hung memories and honored Divinity with our labors. This morning I noticed the branches are drooping, the ornaments are sagging and its starting to dry out. I guess I won’t be turning the lights on anymore. I don’t really need the tree to remind me of what I already know. What it is teaching me now is that I have to remember that endings do not mean that life is over. It just makes way for new beginnings. It creates space for things to happen. To fill a void there must be a void. Better to take out the tree before it gets really ugly; or before it makes such a mess with all the pesky little needles it becomes aggravating. Better to take it out while it’s in its prime, with love. Rather than in disgust, after its become a nuisance. Sometimes you have to make hard choices. Sometimes you have to look at what you’ve created, and embrace it when it is good. But when changes come along, and life happens, you have to let go. You have to step back and say, “enough.” Then, with a loving hand you have to remove the shiny ornaments and the baubles and lights and take the tree outside. And say goodbye to that part of your life. Change is not bad. Neither are endings, or saying goodbye. It’s just a life. And what is life for? Life is for living. So live it.