Remembered for All the Wrong Reasons

Going to school was magical.  In kindergarten I had Miss Dingee - she was beeeyuuuuuutiful and so nice.  Everyone in Miss Dingee's class loved her.  School was safe, fun and wonderful. After the perfect year, complete with going to her family's farm to pick pumpkins, I couldn't wait for my next perfect adventure - the first grade.  You went all day in the first grade and rode on the bus with the big kids.  We would even get to go to the cafeteria for lunch!

That first day, clutching my new pencil box, I rushed into my first grade classroom.  The teacher sure didn't look like Miss Dingee - she was old! (In reality she was probably 35 which we all know is NOT OLD.)  Mrs. Hawkins had put our names on a desk.  We each had an assigned desk.  The desk was slanted and opened up - you could keep your pencil box and papers inside.  I had never seen such a miraculous thing before.  Boy, did I love opening and closing that desk.  She showed us the cloak room - that is a really big closet and we each had our very own hook and a little shelf for lunch pails.  I knew that I was going to love being in the first grade.  And then - I didn't.

Why am I telling your this?  Today I went to a hoolie - an Irish get together complete with bagpipes, singing and lots of dancing.  It was a howling hoot and lots of fun except for the time a group of women started remembering the teachers who scarred them for life.  A successful 31 year old started the riff, rant and rag by telling the tale of the middle school teacher who told her to quit school when she was 16 because she was too stupid to be anything.  What a swell thing to tell a kid with a learning disability.  Luckily, she had a mom who was a true advocate and she was switched out of that class.  It took a lot for her to get over being not only a different style of learner but "too stupid to be anything".  She still remembers the time and place of that crack.  Then there was the story of a student being in a hall way walking behind two members of the teaching profession to hear one of them go off on what a horrible kid she was.  Now, she hadn't known she was a horrible kid until she overheard the conversation.  Don't teachers realize that little people do listen?

All eyes turned to me - was I the only one who hadn't been scared by some teacher who probably shouldn't have been teaching?  Gulp, how could I tell the tale of Mrs. Hawkins.  The thought of her and IT made me want to run in the cloak room and hide.  

The first few months of first grade had gone along without any drama.  Mrs. Hawkins wasn't the most entertaining of teachers but I was in the blue bird reading group and got to become very familiar with good old Dick and Jane.  We pretty much did everything as a group.  Lined up and marched to the cafeteria.  Lined up and marched to the rest rooms.  Lined up and marched to the hall way to practice leaning on the wall with our arms over our heads in case the big bomb dropped.  All that togetherness was swell unless you have to go to the bathroom when it wasn't scheduled. You had to raise your hand and ask permission to make a run down the hall.  If we were doing something really important for our six year old  brains than we had to wait until that very important task was done. One day that cute little girl in the picture - me - raised her hand.  Mrs. Hawkins rolled her eyes and asked "what?"  

"I need to go to the bathroom please."  "No. This is important."  I crossed my skinny little legs, clutched the side of my chair and figured I could wait it out.  When I knew I couldn't wait another second, I raised my scrawny little arm again.  "What," she barked.  "Please can I go to the bathroom."  " I told you no.  Just wait."

And then it happened - first a little dribble, then a whoosh of liquid was racing down my chair and under my desk.  The jeers, laughter and "baby" taunts surrounded me.  I wanted to lift up the top of my desk and crawl inside but my skirt was dripping wet, even my socks were wet.  Mrs. Hawkins stormed down the aisle, took me by the arm and tossed me in the cloak room and shut the door. (When you were "not behaving" you got stowed away in the cloak room.)  I don't know who went and got her but the school nurse appeared and took me to her office.  Little drips followed us down the hall way.  Someone must have called my mom because she raced in with clean clothes.  I  didn't want the clothes, I just wanted to go home.  The nurse and my mom said I had to back to class.  I had just had an accident and everyone understood.  "No", I screamed, "they laughed at me and Mrs. Hawkins put me in the black closet."  They kept insisting and then well - I don't remember if I went back or not - I think it was a vodka-less blackout.  I don't remember much more about the first grade except that I hated it and hated school.  Luckily for me my second grade teacher restored my love for learning - now what was her name?  Why do we remember the wicked ones and not the nice ones?

Years later, I was president of the school board in the town I grew up in.  The superintendent announced at a board meeting that a staff member was retiring and that the board president usually went to the party and gave the teacher a gift.  I said I would be delighted to go and asked who was retiring.  He replied, "Mrs. Hawkins".  I must have turned 50 shades of gray and sputtered, "I'm busy".  "I didn't tell you when it was." "It doesn't matter that bitch can burn in hell before I would honor her at a retirement dinner".  Did I just say out loud "that bitch can burn in hell".  I think I did - damn her she embarrassed me again!  I then regaled the board with my little first grade accident tale - pointing out the pain, shame and hate of school that accident brought on.  No, I did not cave and go to her retirement dinner.  Payback often comes when you least expect it.

The Irish music at the hoolie was getting louder and no one wanted to tell more dastardly teacher tales anyway so the ranting stopped.  As I moved towards the laughter, I got a quick flash of Mrs. Hawkin's face and wondered if she knew she was remembered for all the wrong reasons?

Ruth St. Denis and I Went for a 9 Month Journey

Wow, do i have a lot to learn about blogging.  I just discovered that I wrote this but never hit "publish".   This is old news but hey it was just sitting there on the draft table.

Ruth St. Denis, the mother of modern dance in America, was a Somerset County, NJ native - as am I. In the early 1980's we formed a special bond - she invaded my brain, heart and soul. Reading her autobiorgraphy, An Unfinished Life, I became totally hooked. This incredible woman ran multiple businesses, published volumes of poetry, articles, essays and books, danced until she died in 1968 and was perpetually attractive to gentleman half her age! Miss Ruth, as she was called by her dancers, their students and their grand-students, was conceived in a socialist art colony by one of the first female doctors in the US and her not quite yet inventor husband.

In November of 2006, I got a call from the Director of the Performing Arts Program at Somerset County Vocational Technical High School. The Dance Department and the Somerset County Cultural and Heritage Commission wanted to produce a multi-month celebration of Miss Ruth. Was I interested? I - who hate meetings - raced to the first one. Having more than twenty years ago with Michelle Mathesius produced the first Ruth St. Denis Festival in the county, I had file boxes full of information.

Gulp, that one meeting led to a nine month journey with my favorite lady. The ultimate project included my curating an exhibit that represented the various sides of Miss Ruth - that was pretty easy since I have a huge collection of St. Denis pix.

Loving the poetry of Miss Ruth, I selected some and Shiela Buttermore had her student dancers choreograph movement to each poem. I worked with the student actors on a reader's theatre style presentation. Our first performance was on a 900000000 degree day at the Grounds for Sculpture.
 The dances and words were wonderful. I practically fainted as the water dripped off me. We did the pieces again at the Somerset County Environmental Center. An audience of approximately 70 dance afficiandos came and enjoyed!

We conducted a poety writing contest in the County's middle schools. The theme was 'movement". In September the winning poems were presented to an audience and young dancers choreographed movement to represent the feeling of each piece. Sounds easy! I took the poems and interwove them - so that the total poem was eventually read just not necessarily in order. That meant that I had to work with the student actor readers on breathing real life into the words and the dances would intermingle and overlap. It was a wonderful time for authors, dancers and actors.

Not done yet! On October 4th and 5th, we presented the dance/theatre event that I wrote. A high-school actor, complete with white wig and sari, played Miss Ruth. The convention that I used was
based on a taped interview I heard at the Performing Arts Library in NYC. Miss Ruth, on that tape, was dancing away from questions being asked by the interviewer. My interviewer became a young reporter for MS Magazine trying to find out what made this feminist tick. Well that sounds like enough now for a multi month festival - wrong.

October 13th was the final event. Ruth St. Denis Spiritual Words and Movement featured the wonderful recreation of Miss Ruth's solo Incense by Martha Graham Company soloist, Katherin Crockett. I read the spritual poetry of St. Denis. Some of which were interpreted by student dancers. One piece was investigated by a contempory modern dance company "moe Tion."  Students from Rider University's dance department also presented a piece.

Whew, a nine month ride.  I'm ready to start again.  Any producers?

I just discovered the ease of blogging from the Google Ap on my iPad.  It appears seamless.  I went to the blog icon and my blog page - long unused and lonely -  appeared .  Originally, the blog was set up so that my arts administration students would stop making fun of me for not being part of the techno savvy 20th century.  Since I no longer taught nor had taunting students, the blog just languished.  This easy iPad application has sparked my imagination.  Not being tied to a computer suddenly meant I could use the blog as a place to ramble, bore, enlighten or just plain vent.  Lets see just how far I'll go and how long our dash out notes.  Let the blogging begin!

Oops, not so seamless. The preview button didn't quickly allow me to "see" what the post would look like.  After about four minutes, I just went back to the edit mode.  The real test, I will now hit post and see what happens.

Open Letter to Congress - We spend tax dollars on THAT???

 March 13, 2011

 Dear Members of the United States House of Representatives and Senate,

 The fiscal crisis in the USA and your task of coming close to balancing the Federal Budget is a difficult one.  To better understand what my tax dollar funds, I ventured to grants.gov and briefly scanned items that had application submission dates that spanned the end of 2010 through 2012.  What an incredible list of projects looking for good solid organizations to get wads of dollars to produce – not just non-profit agencies but commercial entities too. What really interested me as I pulled up requests for proposals was just how some of this stuff gets past you.

For instance, we have folks in the United States who do not have rudimentary health care. When I travel abroad it is always embarrassing to hear Europeans refer to our country as “third world” because we let people wallow in poverty, do not provide health care for all, and allow children to go to bed hungry.  Right now, individual states are cutting back on Medicaid benefits, yet there is a $40,000,000 grant out of USA discretionary funds for “Development and Strengthening of the Field Epidemiology Training Program Regional Networks in the Latin America and the Middle East.”   Wow – that sounded important.  Now, I wasn’t sure what epidemiology was so I visited the World Health Organization web site to find that epidemiology is a study.  “Epidemiology is the study of the distribution and determinants of health-related states or events (including disease…”   I bet the $800,000,000 I found for “Continuation of Solicitation for the Office of Science Financial Assistance program” during FY2011 is also important. However, unless I becme a vender and sign in at fedConnect I can’t figure out for the life of me what the Office of Science is soliciting for.  I am sure there is a staff person in your office that vets all requests for proposals and has a complete understanding of solicitation.

Now let me get this straight - $40,000,000 for a study in the Middle East and Latin America and $800,000,000 for a who knows what science project when there are out of work folks I know who do not have health insurance and states  are cutting Medicaid benefits.

Does this seem right to you?

Funding for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting helps to support more than 21,000 American jobs, which contribute more than $1 billion to the national economy. The appropriation they get supports about 1,300 public television and radio stations.  Those stations are also funded by people like me who want news that is not designed for ratings and sensationalism but is well researched and presented.  I listen to and support WHYY and WNYC. Some of you want to totally cut CPB funding but don’t have a problem giving $3,000,000 to “the US-Russia Civil Society Partnership Program (CSPP) to increase and intensify peer-to-peer relationships between US and Russian civil society groups (NGOs, non-profits, universities, foundations, and, where appropriate, private business) - which share common objectives in

addressing major societal challenges.”    How about $3,000,000 to the Regional Investigative Journalsim Network (RIJN).  Who the hell are they? A google search netted “The Regional Investigative Journalism Network (RIJN) program aims to support and strengthen the capacity of experienced regional investigative journalists and associated organizations through virtual and physical networking.”  Virtual networking – Facebook for journalists??? Need a few more pennies? Let us give the CPB the $ 18,200,000 unrestricted applicant pool no description no nothing just cash grant under the title Rule of Law Liberia USAID –Monrovia.

Now let me get this straight - $3,000,000 for Russians and Americans to establish peer – to – to peer relationships ( is that like expensive speed dating?); $3,000,000 to the Regional Investigative Journalism Network (isn’t that supported by commercial television, radio and press?); and my personal favorite $18,200,000 posted in December 2010 to an unrestricted applicant pool the no description grant titled “Rule of Law Liberia.”  Hey, all of that must be more important to folks like me than a national sane, thought provoking broadcast communication network.

Does this seem right to you?

Now we all understand the importance of education.  It is basic to the growth of our children and our nation.  Of course, you don’t seem to have a problem cutting the head off of Head Start and don’t seem to give a damn about the thousands of pre-school children who will be negatively impacted.  I understand why – it is more important to spend $21,000,000 “enhancing the ability of political parties in Pakistan to contribute to democratic policy-making and governance processes at the national and local levels in a more open, research-driven and representative manner and thereby generate greater public trust and confidence in their ability to govern and effect positive policy change.”  Of course $18,400,000 to support full scholarship assistance to economically disadvantaged public school students in Lebanon to attend universities registered with the Lebanese Ministry of Education and Higher Education is more important than supporting our kids at home. Then there is the scant $7,000,000 that  will be used to “promote quality civic education, so that children and youth (defined as those who are between the ages of 15 and 30) across the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) have a strong foundation on which to become active and engaged participants in social, political, and economic life.”

Now let me get this straight, we cut Head Start and impede the intellectual growth of poor children but we pay $21,000,000 for Pakistan political parties to learn how to be political parties, we give $18,400,000 in scholarships to students in Lebanon to go to school in Lebanon and $7,000,000 to educate kids in the Middle East.

Does this seem right to you.

I could go on and on listing request for proposals but your time is too important to read more banality.  You have a country to govern, people to protect, a budget to worry about.  So I will simply say this constituent wants you to cut a percentage of what we spend on foreign aid and stop trying to buy friends; cut a chunk out of defense and stop supporting the arms industry; stop looking to save a buck by harming the citizens of the country you swore to represent.  Think of the people first and big business second.  Think of the people first and your political career second.  Think of the people first and pandering to pundits second.

Have you got this straight?  Think of the people.

Yours truly in art, health, humanism and sensibility,

Midge Guerrera

(Voting as Margaret Ann Guerrera – pull my record I VOTE.)

Thrust and parry. Thrust and parry. That is what teaching brilliant arts management students feels like. The students that I am blessed to have at Westminster Choir College of Rider University are incredible musical artists and bright. Teaching here keeps me on my toes and "in the moment." At the beginning of the semester, I challenged my arts marketing class to do "one thing to promote themselves daily." They stared at me - eyes glazed at first and then slowly the demon in side started to writhe to the surface. "You don't even have a web-site" parried one." "Yeah - an why aren't you blogging", countered another. Before I knew it the rapier had been thrust into my being. Ugh! They are right. Practice what you preach or get off the pulpit. So here I am. Pale, nervous, drymouthed, posting my first post - is that what you do? Post a post? Verb and noun - post a post? Anyway, here I am. Becoming part of the new millenium and starting the tail of teaching the biz side of the arts to kids who will be in the biz on one side of the curtain or another.