Kenya’s recent history has been dotted with several intense episodes of land-ownership conflict, starting in the early 1950s with the bloody repression of the Mau Mau movement by the British colonial power. This conflict caused 11 000 deaths among the rebels and also prompted the first regrouping of agricultural lands in Kenya. Access to land in this former European colony is still to this day a particularly hotly disputed issue.

The colonial heritage also found expression in an administrative tradition where territorial control was paramount of all priorities. Stemming from this, interior boundaries defined exclusive territories, both in the form of nature reserves (forest, national parks) and “ethnic reserves”, which often took on the aspect of administrative bodies. The result was a sectorization which certain repercussions on the distribution of the different communities which populate the country. This situation has become a source of inter-ethnic tension. And it is particularly portentous in the Chebyuk area of the Mount Elgon district where an IRD researcher has been conducting a long-term study on the origins of the conflict over access to arable land which opposes the Kalenjin language communities (Sabaots, Ndorobos and Soy), and whose emergence is closely linked to identity affirmation.

The fertile, well watered Chebyuk region on the southern slopes of Mount Elgon, about 2000 m high, was until 2006 home of a population of 35 000 over a 10 km2 surface area. Following primary forest clearance which had begun in the 1970s, crops of maize, cabbage, onion and potatoes, for export to Kenya’s large towns and cities, developed steadily. Since that time, the geographic area has represented an agricultural front for families coming mainly from the Sabaot community, settled on either side of the frontier between Kenya and Uganda. To meet people’s demand for farming plots, in the 1970s a committee of elders, co-opted by government authorities, organized a first land distribution operation. However, from the mid 1980s, rivalries rose up over ownership of this expanse of land.

Pressure from the Sabaot community led to the settlement and clearance of a more extensive zone than the legally delimited area. In 1989, complaints about the misappropriation of these land allocations prompted a government decision to reorganize the attribution of the farming plots. It was a time when tensions came to a head and houses were burned down. Tensions broke out with rival land claims which were arbitrated by a politico-administrative class which persisted in maintaining a a system of partiality.

The 1989 land reform therefore provided for the redistribution of all land in the localities of Emia and Chebyuk. It was organized in three phases, each corresponding to a particular area of Chebyuk: the lists of beneficiaries of phases 1 and 2 were finalized in 2004; the one for phase 3 was made official in 2006, marking the end of what was a 30-year-long land redistribution programme (see Map). It was subsequent to this final reorganization that the conflict rose to the surface, ending in a form of spatial segregation that rent asunder the apparent unity of the Sabaot community. Towards the end of 2006, clashes between the Sabaot and Ndorobos, a new ethnic identity that had gradually emerged from among those of the Sabaot group who had been cast aside, resulted in the displacement of 60 000 people and the death of 200 others. The region’s inhabitants assimilated with the Ndorobos then took refuge on the high moorland expanses of Chepkitale and in the forest reserve area at the boundary of the Trans Nzoia district. Others, assimilated with the Soy, went over to the plains not far from the Ugandan border (Cheptais), the main town of the district (Kapsokwony) or the neighbouring district of Trans Nzoia.

More recently, the violent stresses associated with the December 2007 elections, expressed locally by rival factions’ taking up of arms, played a role in the magnifying the conflict. Those long battles for land nevertheless find their origin more in the history of State schemes for regulating access to land ownership, rooted in practices of political favouritism and authoritarian methods employed to implement land redistribution operations. Land appropriation battles in the Mount Elgon region stem in the end from repeated episodes of land allocations and evictions which gave rise to frustrations that are now boiling up into ethnic territorial claims

Once again, a request for ID. This is a case of neither the buyer nor the seller having the faintest idea what the merchandise was. I thought a bit of quick mouse-work would reveal all in no time, but I thought wrong. This is so extremely distinctive that I'm sure identification will be a doddle. but the wierd thing is, with no word to input, the web is powerless to help.

I had an idea that this was Hungarian, Bulgarian or similar - but I've drawn a blank. Could the men of rugs ('men' as a unisex pronoun) ride to the rescue?

[text e-mailed to Steve Price at Turkotek, 16/05/08]  

© Photographer: Joseasreyes | Agency: Dreamstime.com
Description:
Arab woman using veil with her mouth pierced.

Keywords: (Report | Suggest)
arab, arabic, beautiful, beauty, black ,broke, cover ,covered ,culture ,east, eastern ,ethnic ,eye ,face, fashion ,females ,girls, green, handkerchief, head ,headscraft ,hiding, innovate, islam ,islamic ,isolated ,lips ,looking ,malicious ,middle ,modern ,muslim ,mystery ,observing ,,piercing ,pioneer ,portrait, religion rules ,serious, shame, spirituality ,staring ,style ,timid ,veil ,vertical ,violet, woman

I mentioned how I started to watch this show back in March.

Since then, there's been a couple of great blog breakdowns on the show that you can find; I personally relate to LucyVee of 'Write Here, Write Now' who says:

As far as I was concerned, it was OBVIOUS Sam Tyler was in a coma; not only did the phones give it away I thought, I was raised on an 80s/90s diet of Thomas Covenant, Labyrinth, Quantum Leap etc where people would enter other worlds thanks to accidents, invitations from goblin kings, time portals and so it goes on.

My own blog entry on the show prompted the following comment in the comment box (I love you readers, have I mentioned that? Unless, of course, you try to pimp your books or spam with links and then you can just go get puppet-cancer):

what I’m not enjoying is the way she dresses- yes it is very 80s but no self-respecting female police officer would have been seen dead dressed like that- this was the time when female officers were trying to prove they were as good - if not better than, male officers - none of the ones I know would have gone around dressed as a tart, showing her bra strap off and wearing that much makeup- that was not the way to get taken seriously back then.

Thanks "Psychodiva"! Now that I've finished the whole lot, I've got a few theories about how the show justifies the dress-sense and the style. 

Uh, it doesn't justify it very well. Darn.

After reading some work on portrayals of women, such as that reported on Jezebel; which draws on young women, hyper-sexualization and dress-sense in a few research papers, it does concern me somewhat (although the show is clearly not targeted at children). One site I mentioned in a previous blogpost is Commercial Free Childhood, which recently have a campaign against Abercrombie & Fitch: 

Thongs for 10-year-olds that say “eye candy.” Shirts with slogans like “Who needs brains when you have these?” and “Do I make you look fat?”. Ads touting group sex to sell clothing to teens and preteens. When it comes to sexualizing children, Abercrombie & Fitch is among the worst corporate offenders.

I'm also reminded of the ongoing efforts to address cat-calling, with surveys like the one done by Rutgers University in 2006 and 2007 of 550 women - who ranged in age from 15 to 64 in the international online component and from 18 to 24 in the Rutgers survey of women from central New Jersey - that were 'asked about their experiences with street harassment and how it "encourages women to look at themselves as body parts instead of as full, whole, intelligent human beings" and can cause women to fear for their safety'.

In addition, Emily May of hollabackNYC.blogspot.com says "I think sites like ours can help women see that they're not alone, that it happens to women in all walks of life by men in all walks of life, and that it's not okay."

In the end, what I see as being endorsed in Ashes to Ashes is a reflection of how 'culture contributes to what is the norm' - as demonstrated in a upcoming US study on 'Perceived Experiences with Sexism Among Adolescent Girls':

Teenage girls of all ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds still experience sexism and sexual harassment – but cultural factors may control whether they perceive sexism as an environmental problem or as evidence of their own shortcomings...

Brown and Leaper note that it is important for girls to be able to identify sexism and sexual harassment as environmental factors, lest they attribute negative experiences to their own faults and suffer erosion of self-esteem. Frequent sexual harassment may lead girls to expect and accept demeaning behaviors in heterosexual romantic relationships, and sexist remarks.

DI Alex Drake doesn't need to dress the way she does, in much the same way no child should need to dress in an overtly sexualized way to be 'cool'. In the first episode, it she's thrown together a few items from the original 'tart' costume that she wore whilst undercover, as her options are limited: she finds the wardrobe in her borrowed flat is full of men's shirts. In the 'present time', she's without a dash of make-up and in a professional suit for the few scenes we see her in, before she gets shot.

Alex then asks Shaz to 'get me a change of clothes; I'd like to get out of red before Chris DeBurgh writes a song about me'. Is Shaz then responsible for buying the range of white silk parachute jumpsuits, Flashdance-inspired off-the-shoulder numbers, tight jeans and white-leather jacket? She's certainly never out of high heels for much of the series, although I struggle to remember an episode where she's ever running after a suspect as opposed to just watching the male cast pursue suspects or riding shotgun in the car.

Essentially from the first episode on, she indeed dresses in a fairly revealing fashion - or at least more suited to going to a disco than investigating crimes. I would probably argue that bra-straps showing is what you would kind of expect to happen if you're wearing an off-the-shoulder shirt... but no. You wouldn't expect that style when in a professional office situation and certainly not in the police-force, even in the 1980s.

I would argue that what other weak justification there could be for her adopting such dress-sense (or better, a wry playing up to the role that the time and situation appears to have for her) is due to Alex Drake's refusal to accept what is happening to her. Why should she take it seriously? Why shouldn't she dress in an ironic, fun or aggressively and overtly sexualized way? It's not real!

"A subconscious construct sustained by severe cranial trauma.... this is a full-sensory hallucination... no, no, this happened to him, it can't happen to me. The mind, fashions conduits to the real world... I need to know if I'm in hospital, I need to know if Molly knows where I am... I'm unconscious and I need reviving."

In short, she doesn't take it at all seriously much of the time - 'stop wiggling your fingers every time you say my name', snarls Gene, as she turns him into a construct complete with quote marks. 'I must constantly analyze... where does that leave me?' she asks, as she ends up writing DEAD on the whiteboard.

Therefore perhaps she fights against the sexism and prejudice by laughing at it, dismissing its power over her and focusing her main efforts on solving why she is there, rather than the image she is forced into? Maybe when faced with the coffee-room full of James Bond and 'tennis girl scratching' posters, perhaps she feels directing her efforts towards getting home to the year 2000 is going to have more success than reversing the laddish culture?

Interesting to note the comment it makes about the logical extension of feminism in Episode Four, where charmingly dopey Chris, when faced by 'wimmins-libbers' is argued into being so pro-feminist that he can't even buy Shaz a chocolate bar because 'I'd be patronizing you... what I'd be saying by getting it for you is that you're not able to get your own independent chocolate. You're a woman!'

Alex, like Sam in Life On Mars, stands aside wincing as the 'boys' punch suspects after a high-speed chase in Episode Three - 'just because I'm stuck here, doesn't mean I have to like it'. Yet unlike Sam, the violence doesn't give her the same nightmares. She just continually returns to her parents, to the unsolved mystery and the ghastly Bowie-esque Pierrot's shouting. During that same episode, she makes a firm statement about gender prejudice during a rape investigation: 

Alex: They say it's difficult for rape victims to be believed - I wonder why? ... It's not about sex, it's about control, power and revenge.

Gene: Maybe tell me about it some other time, when I'm in a coma, when I'm dead??

So, uh, sometimes she takes it seriously and sometimes not? Confused...

Alex's upper-class accent, vocabulary and education never escapes a snide comment - 'Is this la-di-da posh bollocks meant to impress me?', often contrasting her implicitly to the placidly cheerful Shaz Granger, who practically melts into the background when compared to Alex's flashy ensemble and assertive interpretations of crime scenarios. 

All of this boils down to my saying - sure. Alex Drake's character is indeed professional, articulate, intelligent, witting and confident enough to take on even the most misogynistic stock characters that appear in the show... but the costuming is a distraction. It really is. And makes for mixed messages.

I did note how when she gets smashed and has a one-night stand, that it leads Gene to be disappointed in her; how that indicates that she's lost some self-respect by taking on the attitude that 'this 80s time-period isn't real'. I did wince at how she brusquely allowed 'her arse to get stamped' even with the 'up-yours-this-means-nothing' attitude to the tradition (although her mother's appearance makes a great point about even taking it on your own terms doesn't make it any more acceptable).

I also liked the point made by the conclusion of the series that sexual freedom has ramifications in terms of endangering trust and love for both women and men - and those related to them. How far do you push it before someone snaps and says 'this hurts me when you selfishly think of your own desires first - and now I'll choose the ultimate selfishness in return'? If you haven't seen the show for yourself, I'll leave that as the closest I'll get to a spoiler!

But as 'Psychodiva' says at the start - no, professional women don't need to dress like that to prove anything. To choose to dress like that is distracting in that context and does tend to dilute the overall message about respecting the person underneath.

I also have a concern about how it appears to lead to other women being judged as 'why not you too if you are a woman in the same league' or 'you are less deserving of our attention because you don't dress like that'. Is it hurting other women's chances of being taken seriously unless they 'get with the tartchick look'?

I'll continue to watch out for Season Two, although I know that 'What Not To Wear' is a modern show and Trinny and Suzannah won't turn up to tell Alex that being powerful and confident doesn't require such costumes! 

By the way, the 'Write Here, Write Now' blog has a nice little interview by one of the ATA writers, Mark Greig: 

Who would win in a fight, Alex Drake or Sam Tyler?

Alex. Not only is she smarter, she'd smack Sam senseless whilst he was still discussing what the rules of engagement should be, and does Gene really have to be the referee? 

Keep fighting, Alex.

From the moment I landed, the effects of the recent convulsive violence were felt. Politics are an obsession. When the evening news comes on, busy restaurants and bars fall silent. Everyone is trying to figure out whether the Grand Coalition government, bringing together the opposition ODM and President Kibaki's PNU, is going to last. Although it is early days - it looks pretty fragile. Already the opposite wings of the coalition have publicly contradicted each other, on key issues such as how to bring the perpetrators of the violence to justice. Every detail of senior politicians movements, and statements, are pored over. For example, when the new Prime Minister, Raila Odinga, went to 'sell' the new government in his heartland of Western Kenya at the weekend, it was immediately noted that no senior PNU official accompanied him. How much of a partnership is this government, in reality, Kenyans are asking themselves.

They are, however, anxious that the terrible ethnic violence doesn't return. On a drive up through the Rift Valley, from Nakuru to Eldoret, the landscape was scattered with sobering reminders of what the violence cost - in human terms. Burnt-out shells of buildings - shops, sheds, homes - dot the side of the road. Farms have been abandoned. Here, the Kikuyu ethnic group was targeted by the Kalenjin. Scores of lives were lost and tens of thousands displaced. Although the largest ethnic group in Kenya (and one which has been dominant politically and economically since independence), the Kikuyu are a minority in this part of the Kenya.

Weeks have passed since the last violence, but no one feels secure. 20,000 Kikuyu are still camped in Eldoret's showground. The government is threatening to forcibly relocate them back home, but many are simply too fearful. They say there must be talks with Kalenjin village elders first, to get guarantees about the return of property and security. On the Kalenjin side, there are calls for those arrested in the wake of the violence to be freed as a gesture of reconciliation - something the Kikuyu see as completely unacceptable. Depressingly, although everyone agrees that tribalism in Kenya has got completely out of control, and that the political class are mostly to blame, there has nevertheless been a hardening of ethnicity. One Kikuyu told me the main message his community drew from the violence is that "the Kikuyu weren't strong enough...we won't be caught out like this again". It is simply too early to say yet whether Kenya is on the road to recovery - or to ruin.

You can find out more about how different ethnic groups in Kenya were affected by the post-election violence on MRG’s dedicated page Minority Voices from Kenya.

Well that seems to be where it is at now.
Even though anyone can become a Jew, still Jews more than most see the world through ethnic eyes. In other words the more religious one is, the more an ethnic origin is important.
As I am often the focus of the religious, perhaps I am more privy to their way of thinking. Indeed also on a nationalistic hegemonic pursuit, the ethnic 'card' can be used to great effect. Hence the great increase in sectarian wars and strife.
Surely a spiritual pursuit is required to see what all living things have in common, or at least what all humans have in common.
With a spiritual insight into the bonds of blood within a family, and with this being able to be used for the hegemonic gains of a state, then we also have the spectre of insidious inroads. This is another argument for separating religion from the state, so as to avoid an extreme right wing nationalism.
What about the Taliban and Iran? That is their business the people there are indigenous, they evolved into who they are. And no doubt Western orchestrated Islamaphobia has strengthened the hand of the religion.
But for a westerner, in a transient society, who can trace their thinking to Descartes 'I think therefore I am' , to The French revolution 'Liberty and equality' And Marxist thought and Greek philosophers. Then we have evolved differently. Maybe secularism would be more of a barrier to the spreading of Islam?
The freedom to worship should be savoured. To use this for nationalism is very dangerous.

But (you had to know there was a "but" coming!) ... there just seems to be something wrong with a blog dedicated to celebrity kids of a specific race. Maybe "wrong" isn't the right word. I guess I just don't see the need for it but, obviously, I'm not the intended target.

I just remembered that we have "Jew of the Day" which is fun. Hmmm. Must think more.

I think what I'm feeling is a sense of "that's not fair" regarding the apparent double-standard. A blog for only white celebrities would be labeled racist. Someone who votes for Obama because he is black is just voting for a historic, long-awaited change in the highest office. Someone who votes against Obama because he's black is a racist.

Anyhow ... there are photos of beautiful celebrity kids on the site. And inexplicably there are posts about black celebrities who don't have kids but might want kids.

Please click the link to see the map.

Ethnic Majorities in Former Yugoslavia

This map is from “The Former Yugoslavia: A Map Folio”, published by the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency in 1992.

Please click the link to see the map.

Ethnic structure of the population of Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia.

Published by Faculty Of Geography, Belgrade 1993, according to the population census on March 31, 1981.

Persons who declared themselves Yugoslavs in Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia.

Published by Faculty Of Geography, Belgrade 1993, according to the population census on March 31, 1981.

The name "Former Yugoslav Republic Of Macedonia" or "FYROM" for short is disgrace to the Macedonian people whom were the least "Yugoslav" of all the Yugoslav peoples.

Balkans, Ethnic Majorities

This map is from "The Former Yugoslavia: A Map Folio", published by the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency in 1992.

The following map was issued by Encyclopedia Britannica, Edition 1990, Macropedia Volume 29, page 1090.

The following map was issued by Encyclopedia Britannica, Edition 1986, 1987 Macropedia, Volume 29, page 1047.

The following map was published by National Geographic Vol. 178, No.2, August 1990, page 105. The front page of the August issue had title Yugoslavia, A House Much Divided.

So should there really be an Asian Heritage Month?  Especially when other holidays/festivals are covered through out the year?
A

Something happened by way of the food, though ... a funny little deja vu, but in this case history really did repeat itself, like a gift from one generation to the next.  I had told my kids a funny story about the time that my Mom, in her sleepiness, had inadvertantly substituted baking soda for baking powder when making us pancakes one morning.  I remember gingerly asking if she had switched her pancake recipe or something -- neither my sister nor I wanted to hurt her feelings.  But when she realized what she'd done, we all had quite a laugh.  Well, this morning, I did the same thing while making scones for everyone!  They were positively awful!  We had a great laugh, and then, since we were on a time schedule, quickly made toast to go with our fruit salad!

Late in the morning, we drove to the nearest big town, stopping at the greenhouse on the way to pick up some plants for the garden.  Even (or especially) on a day that feels like autumn, it is uplifting to think about growing food in the garden!

For lunch, we enjoyed a delicious pizza at a local pizzeria.  They made a great crust, but the best part of all was that the pizza was our reward for having won a dance contest a few weeks ago!  It was a cold, rainy day, so the pizza was important to keeping us warm and content on our Mothers Day hike up to the top of a nearby overlook.  The rain made the colors of the rocks and mosses and lichens "pop," and the trees take on a new look of lushness.  From the overlook we saw a beach down below, so I suggested that we find that beach!  Once back to our car, we drove a bit further up the road and enjoyed another short hike to the beach of lovely white sand.

After our hike, we stopped at the Food Coop to pick up a few essentials, like fresh ginger and dried fruit.  The weather seemed to have inspired lots of folks to visit this community store, and the people in the aisles were as colorful and the food-lined shelves!

For Mothers Day supper, I used up leftovers of brown rice and made a stirfry of onion, ginger, carrots, peas, and broccoli, served with a tomato curry sauce.  While I cooked, my son broke in his new glove playing catch with a friend.  Our meal was lovely and light. 

To me, this was a great day of family time.  And it was also a great day of dining, even with the errors and odd combination of Italian and Indian foods; the juxtaposition of homebaked mistakes, restaurant food and leftovers!  The perfect reflection of the busy life of a working mother who loves good food, good fun and the out-of-doors!

Well, actually… let me set the scene first. The location is a large ramshackle building on several floors which I shall call the warehouse. When it was first taken over by Jack the Lad, the whole vast space was given over to every sort of antique furniture, paintings, objets d’art – Jack has never been afraid to have a go, and he certainly had plenty of scope. Much of the original shop area has now been converted to other uses, and the actual antiques patch is a shadow of its former self. In addition, various fringe bits are leased out to others, and it was in one of these patches, belonging not to Jack, but to another local dabbler in bric-a-brac and so on, that a couple of years ago I had a strange experience. There on the wall - during one of the frequent visits that I have been making for several years now – was a picture. What was singular about this picture was that I knew it very well, but I had totally forgotten it. And this was because this same picture used to hang on the wall of our house when I was a child, and I had looked at it many, many times, but not seen it for perhaps forty years

For my father, I suppose, it was a picture of religious devotion, of men at prayer. As for me, I am not sure that I ever realised that the men in the image were praying. After all, one prayed in a church, and these men were not in a church, or indeed in any other building. O.K., so one also prayed at home - kneeling by the bed side with hands together. No-one in this picture had his hands together.

It was certainly not prayer, that is,which held my youthful attention. Of course, there were  two men in strange costumes in the picture and, even more interestingly, perhaps, a camel. But what I believe truly fired my imagination as a small boy was the only other constituent of the image apart from the two men and the camel – a rolling panorama of sand dunes, stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction. And the only obvious feature in all that wide landscape was the trail of footprints which one could see leading far out over the dunes until it was lost in the vastness.

I do not know any longer what exactly was the impression made upon me by this image. But I very strongly suspect that it told me that, beyond the confines of the suburban England of the fifties, the rows of pebble-dashed semi-detached houses in which the anonymous drones of lower-middle England went about their grey affairs, there was, somewhere over the horizon, another, an elemental world, where the writ of the petit bourgeois did not run. This image never seized me of a desire to rush off to Arabia or the Sahara. But it did, I believe, help me unconsciously to sense that one day I too could walk out of those suburbs into a wider landscape. (To this day, I cannot stand suburbs.)

All this happened between one and two years ago. I did not buy the picture. It cost peanuts and this was not the issue. Whilst I could not deny the singularity of this strange reappearance, this in no way meant that I therefore felt that I should buy the picture, take it home and put it on our wall – even with my partner having been brought up as a Muslim.

 [I am aware that at the mention of mediums and contact with a dead relative, many readers of this will immediately freeze. Unfortunately, there are still many, many people who do not find it in themselves to have an open mind about such things, but feel a need to violently oppose any claim of the possible reality of such phenomena.]    

I have more questions than answers about what exactly goes on after death. The father who communicated with me on this occasion seemed quite needy, wanting to invade my hour with the medium, for example by recounting incidents from his early life. This rather juvenile need for approbation / affection, certainly characteristic of him in life, did not seem to have been diminished by his sojourn ‘on the other side’. At one point my mum also appeared, and was apparently playing cards with some women friends. I am left rather puzzled as to what purpose exactly this other realm is intended to fulfil – if it does not enable those who inhabit it to progress psychologically, and if they ‘pass the time’ there rather as one might do on Earth.

Anyhow, my father also said that he was proud of me, which certainly represented a major shift from his attitude down here, and my partner Hacina had a similar experience in which her father behaved and spoke in a way which represented a very marked shift from his previous manner. Apparently the future was also accessible from the other side, and my father made two specific predictions involving me. (Neither have yet come true, or seem likely to. I have an inherent tendency to believe predictions which on the face of available evidence seem to make no sense.)    

This ‘encounter’ (the first time I had visited a medium or experienced anything of this kind) has I feel, over the intervening fifteen months, contributed to a slow re-appraisal now going on in me of certain aspects of my relationship with my father. In particular, I feel that I am more aware than previously of him as a person in his own right – belonging to a different time and circumstances, facing different challenges and decisions, attempting to make the best he could of the hand of cards dealt to him. And I am certain that, during his lifetime, I must have been a bitter disappointment to him. He had hopes of me as an engineer and pillar of the church, and neither of those hopes was ever to be realised.

Fate played the same trick with me concerning ‘Prayer in the Desert’ as it did with the landscape painting of art objects 41. One day I passed through Jack’s, and it had gone. I mentioned this to Carla, the seller, when I bumped into her in Roger’s one day soon afterwards. ‘Oh no,’ she said, ‘I just took it down and shoved it in a corner. In fact, I’ve reduced it to half price. I can’t believe no-one wanted to buy it. I really like it.’ I told her of my connection to it. ‘Look, Carla’, I said, ‘I’m going to go round to the warehouse and get it – I guess you didn’t sell it because it had my name on.’

It’s a good feeling to have it here. Don’t get me wrong, I still have issues with my dad. But this picture represents, perhaps, the things on which I can feel in a sense close to him. Part of my inheritance from him is to have been exposed to his qualities, just as I was to his faults – and both have become part of who I am. My father was not a bigot. This image reminds me of a poem that he once read to me and that I remembered enough of to be able to find it again on the web, decades later.

Abou ben Adem

Abou ben Adem (may his tribe increase!)

awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight of his room,

Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

an angel, writing in a book of gold.

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adem bold,

And to the Presence in the room he said:

"What writest thou?" The vision raised its head,

And, with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."

"And is mine one?" said Abou, "Nay, not so,"

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerily still, and said, "I pray thee, then,

Write me as one who loves his fellow men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again, with a great awakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest,

And lo! Ben Adem's name led all the rest.

- Leigh Hunt

Method
1. Saute carrots in olive oil. Add rest of ingredients and simmer until cooked through.

Method
1. Season chicken with 2 T. sweet and 1 t. hot paprika, and 1 t. salt.
2. Melt butter in large saute pan. Add onions and garlic and remaining paprikas and salt. Cook 2 minutes. Add tomatoes, cook 30 seconds. Add chicken, stir and cook about 4 minutes. Add enough stock to cover chicken and bring to a boil.
3. Lower heat, cover and cook about 25 minutes. Add more stock if needed. Uncover and add sour cream. Stir.
4. Serve over cooked spaetzle tossed with olive oil and fresh herbs.

So, would a goodhearted Greek be so kind and tell the World what this is.........

Part 1/4

Part 2/4

Part 3/4

Part 4/4

Part 1/4

Part 2/4

Part 3/4

Part 4/4

The district is one of the best in Texas with one of the highest tax rates. 

Fact:  Maybe the district was one of the best at one time but that was before all of the parents who lived in the central part of Houston moved to the suburbs looking for the "good" school and the safe neighborhoods. 

Now, the schools have lost their supply of quiet, eager, normal behavior, high achieveing, homework-checked-by-their-parents every night kid to not-turning-in-my-homework, stealing pencils, held back last year, moved from some other city, street-survival culture kid. 

 I'm tired of my kiddo  having to sit out recess because 1/2 the students in the class are sucking the teacher's energy by talking and playing their way through the day. 

How do I know this?  I have seen it with my own eyes. 

 I'm tired of the parents not taking the responsibility of making their student behave in school so other kids can learn.  I wish the teacher could put the rowdy, none-learning kids in the gym all day.  Let them talk, bully and cause chaos with each other.  Students have a legal right to be at school but they do not have the right to interrupt everyone in the classroom. 

Parents, the teacher did not pick on your child.  Your child has poor impulse control or something.  If you think you moved to this district in order to insure your child gets one of the better educations in Texas, think again. 

You  or your kid are not being picked on because you are "poor" "white", "black", "Hispanic", "Korean", "Russian", "Filipino", "South American", "Spanish speaking", "any Middle Eastern language", "attend a mosque", "eat carrots", "religion", "economic level",  "skinny", "have two eyes". 

Parents, you might have changed your geography but in your kid's head and in your head you have not moved at all.

The problem is your kid.  My kid is subsidizing your kid because the teacher does not have to spend time during class quieting my child.

I have volunteered  at the school during the day.   I have stood up in front of the classroom and spoke to the class.  Your kid would not be quiet no matter how many times the teacher asked.    No matter how many times I stopped and waited for your child to quiet down.  Your kid thought he/she was witty.  He/She enjoyed the power of disrupting  me or whoever else was talking.

Parents, today I am talking to you about your part.  You are not fully to blame.  You are working everyday trying to pay these high gas prices.  You are working to make sure the mortgage is paid and that your boss does not fire you in these economic times.  You are just trying to drive one hour to work each way.  Your boss will not even let you take one day off work to have a teacher conference.  I know.  I have been there. 

 I have worked at a car wash in the Texas heat for $3.35 an hour for two years.  After working that 8 hour shift, I walked the 5 miles to my one room apartment because I could not afford a car.  We all have some struggle stories.

Check you kid's homework.  Ask the teacher to stay after school and help you help your child.  Try to make contact with other parents at the school.  Punish your child when he or she needs it.  Take away the TV, the Wii, the playtime out in the front of the house. 

Your son/daughter is good, loved, capable and has every reason to succeed.

 We are all in this school together.  Yes, the school needs to change.  The teachers need to change.  The district needs to change. 

Let's change the one factor that we know that we have control of.....our son/daughter. 

The very reason you moved to this school is changing. 

The elderly man in the video says to the reporter; "I am Macedonian, not Greek! My Aunt was raped infront of the children by the Greek soldiers".