Weather in the Tri-Cities for the next few days:  Mostly sunny to Partly cloudy, highs will be climbing up into 70s and 80s, and lows from 37-51. In other words, our April showers are on the way out the gate, Nate, and warmer weather is about to arrive. Now, if the winds will abate a tad…

April is National Poetry Month until it isn’t April! No time like the present to support a local, or favorite, poet. And how lucky for him, for her, how lucky for you, if they are both the same 😉

Immigrants

So, immigration seems to be a big topic these days. I’ve given a little thought to the subject, what’s good about it, what’s bad about it, and here are some of my thoughts. 

What I dislike about those foreign immigrants moving next door:

• Exotic aromas from their cooking waft past my nose—and they don’t offer to let me taste, let alone share! I dunno, maybe I could take an empty bowl and knock on their door and beg? If they’re Asian, they might understand a begging bowl, but somehow, I doubt it. Or, I could take a plate of cookies and offer to trade? Actually, I’ve tried that and get nothing in return but smiles. Smiles are worth a lot, but food is better. 

• They often speak better English (American) than I do. That’s so embarrassing.

• They usually speak more than one language. And whose fault is that, Lenora?

• They’ve seen more of the world than I have. Can you tell Auntie Lenora has a wee small jealous streak?

What I like about them:

• They often start off working menial jobs, and soon buy and take over the business.

• They frequently open restaurants so I can eventually try their food, and match it, if lucky, to the aromas that wafted from their kitchens next door.

• Their kids understand the necessity of a good education and spurred mine to do better when my kids were in school.

Daddy shared a poem with me several years ago. I don’t remember who wrote it, nor the title, but there was a great line in it about how the world will be a much happier place when we’re all the color of tea! If anyone remembers the poem and or author, please let me know. 

This country as we know it today was built by immigrants, many of them Europeans who had no qualms about getting rid of earlier immigrants who looked different, ate different, talked different, lived different, worshipped differently than they did. Their motto seemed to be: Might makes right.

Those Europeans had no qualms about getting rid of whatever peoples, Native or Mexican, who were here first. They had no qualms inviting other people of color in to do the menial work, the dirty work, and either enslave them, or get rid of them when no longer needed or wanted.

Years ago I became friends with a gentleman who was born and raised in China. His parents were American, and his father was in the Quartermaster Corps, helping to build a dam on one of the rivers. When Patrick was 9 or 10 they moved back to the States, and he eventually ended up in LA, in an art school. His dream was to be an artist when he grew up. Anyhow, there was a young woman in class that Patrick took a shine too. She was Mexican, and one day invited Patrick to her home after school. It was a typical upper middleclass home in a typical upper middleclass barrio. And then she opened the front door, and Patrick stepped into old China. He almost dropped from vertigo. When she quit laughing, she explained that when the upper class Chinese came to America, they were treated like the coolies. They looked around and realized the Mexicans were treated better. And, talk about luck, they looked the same. So, the Chinese went from being Chinese to Mexican, and had more respect, better jobs, allowed more freedoms, etc. You just can’t tell about those immigrants, can you? /snicker/snort/. Oh, and yes, her family spoke Spanish, English, and Chinese. Patrick felt right at home.

Fortunate for us, many immigrants stayed, and we can eat Chinese food, Thai food, Vietnamese food, Korean food, Ethiopian food, Native food, Italian food, French food, Corned beef and cabbage, Persian food, Russian food, Kosher food, and I suppose if you want it, haggis. (Actually, I’ve had haggis and it was kinda good;-) And the freed enslaved stayed, and we can now enjoy soul food, African foods from several different countries, all kinds of yummy foods! (Auntie Lenora is getting hungry just writing this!)

A few years ago, some southern states decided to keep immigrants out of the state so the white men could have their jobs back. Guess how excited whitey was to pick tomatoes, cotton, cucumbers, &c? Yeah, right. The fruits and vegetables rotted in the fields. Who got hurt? The farmers. Immigrants are not taking jobs away from Americans, white or colored. Immigrants put money into the system, far more than they take out. They pay the taxes, but are not eligible for the benefits, if they are undocumented.

So don’t let people tell you immigrants aren’t a necessary part of our country. After all, it was built by immigrants. The Native Americans came first, then the Europeans, then the rest of the world! And that food. All that wonderful food!

Photo of the Week:

We have two. One wreaks agony on a great many people but looks so pretty. The cotton from cottonwood trees. The other is my jeans. Both shot with the 25x macro and my iPhone.

Entertainment:

Netflix: Next week, I promise, I’ll watch another episode or two of my show.

Books: For full reviews, please go to: http://lenoragood.blogspot.com

Finished reading The Death of Sitting Bear, New and Selected Poems —N. Scott Momaday. Once again Momaday has combined history and mythologies and personal pieces he calls passages. Reading his books becomes a lesson in beauty, in history, in amazement.

Have started I Contain Multitudes by Ed Yong. It’s off to a great start 😉 Nonfiction about the microbes we carry with us, and why. Also reading Intention Tremor: A Hybrid Collection by Tamara Kaye Sellman, about her journey with MS.

And just for fun, in case I run out of anything to do, I downloaded 17 free books to read in my spare time.

Education:

What a week for getting educated! On Tuesday I took a class from one of my favorite poets, Lauren Camp, called Plate Tectonics. We learned how to shift our poems in very improbably ways that really work. It took a day or two for some of it to sink in, but when it did, holy moley guacamole, what an insight. On Wednesday, I took the first of six classes on writing poetry using Archetypes. The first one was Lover. Wayne Lee is leading this class, and it’s utterly fascinating. I can hardly wait for this coming Wednesday, when Warrior is the subject.

Then, on Friday I was re-educated as to why I don’t buy women’s jeans. I was in a local chain store, and they had quite a clearance rack, so I checked it out. They had Levi’s for women, and I bought a pair. They went back on Saturday. There are no usable pockets. I guess women aren’t supposed to use pockets, but always pack a purse? I quit buying women’s jeans years ago because they aren’t well made, in general, and also most of them had high waists, which I find uncomfortable. But they at least had pockets. The ones I bought Friday could, maybe, carry a credit card, but I wouldn’t be comfortable with it. So, I’ll head to the men’s section when I need new jeans. Not only are they better quality, they have real pockets!

Also on Saturday, I spent all but 20 minutes of 5 hours at my computer attending the NMSPS (New Mexico State Poetry Society) annual conference. That included one workshop, many talks and readings and one prompt. I got a poem out of both the workshop and the prompt. Those who read were wonderful, the youth poet laureate of Santa Fe read for about 20 minutes and blew my socks off. Artemesio Romero y Carver was a delight to listen to and to watch. He’s still in high school! It is such a pleasure to see young people, especially boys (not too many of them, I think) take such an interest I poetry. Indeed, between Mr. Romero y Carver and Ms. Gorman, I think we are in very capable hands, poetically speaking.

Quote of the Week:

 “In a time of destruction, create something: a poem, a parade, a community, a school, a vow, a moral principle; one peaceful moment.” —Maxine Hong Kingston

Sammy Brave Dog wants you to know that he, too, is the son of immigrants. His ancestors came from the State of Chihuahua in Mexico, and he’s so happy they were allowed to stay! And Auntie Lenora’s ancestors came from Africa, Mongolia (Native American), Europe, and the Middle East. She finds it unfathomable to not like immigrants. But then, Auntie Lenora does like to eat! /snicker/snort/