On the Eve . . .

… the goal of this great world
Lies beyond sight: yet--if our slowly-grown
And crowned Republic's crowning common-sense,
That saved her many times, not fail--their fears
Are morning shadows huger than the shapes
That cast them, not those gloomier which forego
The darkness of that battle in the West,
Where all of high and holy dies away.

- from Tennyson, Idylls of the King

Why not try . . .

". . . so you know, I figure, why not try, I really think I have something to offer."

"How did we get here, and where are we going . . . "

"What a difference twenty-four hours make. We awakened at our usual time of 5:30am - but we had no bell to ring and no butlers. We got up, walked and fed the dogs, picked up the papers, and carried coffee upstairs to read in bed.

"So here we are - almost full circle - taking care of ourselves again and loving it. How did we get here, and where are we going . . ."

Who said this? And when did she say it?
For answer, please go to the Comments (below).

Women of valor: 2008

Odetta

"If only one could be sure that every fifty years a voice and a soul like Odetta would come along, the centuries would pass so quickly and painlessly that we would hardly recognize time."
- Maya Angelou



Miriam Makeba

"People say I sing politics, but what I sing is not politics.
It is the truth."



Mildred Loving

In early May 2008, Mildred Loving died at her home in Caroline County, Virginia. Her passing was noted nationwide because Mrs. Loving, who was black, and her late husband Richard, who was white, made history with the landmark 1967 Supreme Court ruling overturning "miscegenation" laws (banning interracial marriage). But the Lovings never wanted be revolutionaries. They loved each other and wanted to marry. As for all the rest, Mrs. Loving said, "It was God's work."
- Marian Wright Edelman

Loving for All
By Mildred Loving
June 2007, for the 40th anniversary of Loving vs. Virginia

When my late husband, Richard, and I got married in Washington, DC in 1958, it wasn’t to make a political statement or start a fight. We were in love, and we wanted to be married.

We didn’t get married in Washington because we wanted to marry there. We did it because the government wouldn’t allow us to marry back home in Virginia where we grew up, where we met, where we fell in love, and where we wanted to live and build our family. You see, I am a woman of color and Richard was white, and at that time people believed it was okay to keep us from marrying because of their ideas of who should marry whom.

When Richard and I came back to our home in Virginia, happily married, we had no intention of battling over the law. We made a commitment to each other in our love and lives, and now had the legal commitment, called marriage, to match. Isn’t that what marriage is?

Not long after our wedding, we were awakened in the middle of the night in our own bedroom by deputy sheriffs and arrested for the “crime” of marrying the wrong kind of person. Our marriage certificate was hanging on the wall above the bed. The state prosecuted Richard and me, and after we were found guilty, the judge declared: “Almighty God created the races white, black, yellow, malay and red, and he placed them on separate continents. And but for the interference with his arrangement there would be no cause for such marriages. The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend for the races to mix.” He sentenced us to a year in prison, but offered to suspend the sentence if we left our home in Virginia for 25 years exile.
We left, and got a lawyer. Richard and I had to fight, but still were not fighting for a cause. We were fighting for our love.

Though it turned out we had to fight, happily Richard and I didn’t have to fight alone. Thanks to groups like the ACLU and the NAACP Legal Defense & Education Fund, and so many good people around the country willing to speak up, we took our case for the freedom to marry all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. And on June 12, 1967, the Supreme Court ruled unanimously that, “The freedom to marry has long been recognized as one of the vital personal rights essential to the orderly pursuit of happiness by free men,” a “basic civil right.”

My generation was bitterly divided over something that should have been so clear and right. The majority believed that what the judge said, that it was God’s plan to keep people apart, and that government should discriminate against people in love. But I have lived long enough now to see big changes. The older generation’s fears and prejudices have given way, and today’s young people realize that if someone loves someone they have a right to marry.

Surrounded as I am now by wonderful children and grandchildren, not a day goes by that I don’t think of Richard and our love, our right to marry, and how much it meant to me to have that freedom to marry the person precious to me, even if others thought he was the “wrong kind of person” for me to marry. I believe all Americans, no matter their race, no matter their sex, no matter their sexual orientation, should have that same freedom to marry. Government has no business imposing some people’s religious beliefs over others. Especially if it denies people’s civil rights.

I am still not a political person, but I am proud that Richard’s and my name is on a court case that can help reinforce the love, the commitment, the fairness, and the family that so many people, black or white, young or old, gay or straight seek in life. I support the freedom to marry for all. That’s what Loving, and loving, are all about.




Grace Hartigan

"At the end of the day, at the end of her life, she could look back, laugh and feel nothing but gratitude that, as she said, 'Painting chose me.'"

A special category of heroism . . .

Dith Pran

“To all of us who have worked as foreign reporters in frightening places, Pran reminds us of a special category of journalistic heroism — the local partner, the stringer, the interpreter, the driver, the fixer, who knows the ropes, who makes your work possible, who often becomes your friend, who may save your life, who shares little of the glory, and who risks so much more than you do.”

- Bill Keller, Executive Editor of The New York Times

Reasons for moving

We all have reasons for moving.
I move to keep things whole.

from "Keeping Things Whole" by Mark Strand

You begin . . .

Welcome to "I'm A Feline" - a whimsical personal blog.

You begin this way:
this is your hand,
this is your eye,
that is a fish, blue and flat
on the paper, almost
the shape of an eye.
This is your mouth, this is an O
or a moon, whichever
you like. This is yellow.

From You Begin By Margaret Atwood