Cops are the ultimate d-bags. And not in the "oh he's so cute, he looks like Screech but thinks he has game" sort of way. The police here are an interesting sort in Falcon Heights, MN. Maybe my opinions have recently been colored by certain events or experiences, but when Officer Moore pulled me over tonight (for going 34 in a 30 zone), I was a little bit more than just nervous. I was irate.
Apparently two police cars, two officers and two running crown victorias (greater than or equal to approximately 100 tax dollars, hard at work) were needed to pull me over on the most desolate, dark and residential of streets, tonight in St. Paul.
Why am I angry?
Because: As my well-policed, sleepy, middle class neighborhood watched Grey's Anatomy and I got pulled over, elsewhere in the United States, approximately 19.5 rapes occured that will never be policed or prosecuted. In North Minneapolis even, it is certain that at least one woman got pimped to a john while I was waiting for my fine. Moreover, it is statistically probable that a gun was fired and a child was beaten by a parent during the minutes those two officers spent making sure the city was safe from my four miles over the limit. And it's also quite probable that another police officer somewhere was speeding for no reason himself.
Don't be fooled by my sweet yet angry expression, Officer Moore. Everything about our interaction tonight speaks to the power differential that exists between civilian and enforcement. You shined your tractor beam into my car. The other officer flooded my face with the other light so I couldn't see. People peered out of their windows. I could see their silohettes when you finally allowed me to go - there they were, dark and nosy, standing in front of the blue lights ..."Is this a crack bust?" "No, she was going three over." I mean I shouldn't really complain...But there is something about being pulled over on a dark street, by myself, by a man I don't know...And watching him inspect my 'documents' that makes me feel strangely vulnerable and unsafe. Hm.
Comparatively, I can't complain. All I have to do is pay $118 or appear at the courts and appeal it. It could be way worse for me, honestly. If I wasn't white and privileged, I guarantee it would be different. But maybe I'm making this up...
I mean, dude, it's not like in the United States we recruit 18-year-olds and give them machine guns (coughintifadacough) or elevated status without reason...Oh wait...yes we do! We just dress them in green, promise them minimal benefits, fill their heads with lies, and ship them to other countries...Or Guantanamo. The ones who don't pass the fitness test stay here, wear blue and beat up brown people.
(disclaimer: I'm generalizing, of course. some cops are great. some even have six packs.)
I'm gonna get in trouble for this one, for sure...
The take home message: police work hard to fill their "quotas" of moving violations in order to make money for the county, while real and heinous atrocities are occurring everywhere. And they do it with such arrogance and self-importance, too. Meanwhile, this same hunger for power translates into abuses thereof - brutality, profiling and corruption.
Seriously, what's the difference? I'll pay the fine, I guess. But I wish there was some guarantee that the money I'll shell out will be spent trying to prevent an aggravated assault or a case of child neglect, instead of paying the salary of that lazy idiot who is drinking his coffee and waiting to pull me over...again.
Friday, February 9, 2007
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Yasin's Words of Wisdom, Part 3
I do not understand those people who wave behind emotion, those who skate on the surface without digging for the roots.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
The Suspense is Terrible; I Hope it Lasts.
I've been told that I have an expectations problem, but the problem is, everything exceeds my expectations. Always. Yes, I just dropped a hyperbole. And I don't take it back.
Alissa, hand me a lighter. It's time to sing kum-ba-ya.
I try to imagine my life and where it's going. I really do. I stare at the ceiling sleeplessly, envisioning it all...I know it's got to be more complicated than husband, kids, house. Don't get me wrong, I want those things. I want it all. I'll tell you a secret: I hope for those things above all else. But nothing ever moves in a straight line, no matter how strictly and stringently we plot, plan and deliberate. I stay up at night thinking about this, about all the wondrous, tragic, transformative, wretched, whimsical and straight up miraculous things that could (and will) happen to me tomorrow. And even as I try to predict and procure the most impossible scenario, my imagination never lives up to my reality. Ever.
In high school I played the leading role of Emily in Wilder's Our Town. If you haven't read it, do. Aside from having to freeze a very disgusting fake kiss with my friend's boyfriend, this particular character struck a chord with me.
I am not a Carrie, a Samantha, a Miranda or a Charlotte. In the realm of all things fiction, I am an Emily.
But really, Emily says: "That's all human beings are. Just blind people." And I can't help but open my eyes these days.
And yes, I take people, things, seemingly random acts of destiny, and simple miraculous moments for granted sometimes. I trip over myself, I doze in class, I get caught up in the mundane, but still, I find myself amazed and excited by what the new day brings. Today: a new flavor of juice, a conflict resolved, a new friend, a burst of energy, a few tears, a different route home, a lost credit card, keeping the confidence of someone I admire and the first long bath I've taken in two years. Nothing momentous, but miraculous nonetheless.
My life is pretty great, but it's no better than yours.
I use Google calendar obsessively. Tomorrow I have an array of colored blocks delineating what I've got ahead of me. But really, I have no clue at all.
I've got a meeting with my thesis advisor at 7:30, class at 9:00 (complete with in-class presentation being given by yours truly), work at 12:00 and a TV date with Natalie at 9:00pm. Those are just the low-lights. The beauty is, aside from knowing where I have to be when, I haven't got a clue what I'll learn, where I'll go or what I'll see. I have no idea who will change my life in the next 24, but I guarantee, somebody will.
All I have to do is keep my eyes open. I'm never bored.
That's what I want. Everything. "Life in every word, to the extent that it's absurd."
And that's what it's like operating on my level. Want to come? It's pretty breezy up here, the water's nice, and it smells like patchouli.
Alissa, hand me a lighter. It's time to sing kum-ba-ya.
I try to imagine my life and where it's going. I really do. I stare at the ceiling sleeplessly, envisioning it all...I know it's got to be more complicated than husband, kids, house. Don't get me wrong, I want those things. I want it all. I'll tell you a secret: I hope for those things above all else. But nothing ever moves in a straight line, no matter how strictly and stringently we plot, plan and deliberate. I stay up at night thinking about this, about all the wondrous, tragic, transformative, wretched, whimsical and straight up miraculous things that could (and will) happen to me tomorrow. And even as I try to predict and procure the most impossible scenario, my imagination never lives up to my reality. Ever.
In high school I played the leading role of Emily in Wilder's Our Town. If you haven't read it, do. Aside from having to freeze a very disgusting fake kiss with my friend's boyfriend, this particular character struck a chord with me.
I am not a Carrie, a Samantha, a Miranda or a Charlotte. In the realm of all things fiction, I am an Emily.
But really, Emily says: "That's all human beings are. Just blind people." And I can't help but open my eyes these days.
And yes, I take people, things, seemingly random acts of destiny, and simple miraculous moments for granted sometimes. I trip over myself, I doze in class, I get caught up in the mundane, but still, I find myself amazed and excited by what the new day brings. Today: a new flavor of juice, a conflict resolved, a new friend, a burst of energy, a few tears, a different route home, a lost credit card, keeping the confidence of someone I admire and the first long bath I've taken in two years. Nothing momentous, but miraculous nonetheless.
My life is pretty great, but it's no better than yours.
I use Google calendar obsessively. Tomorrow I have an array of colored blocks delineating what I've got ahead of me. But really, I have no clue at all.
I've got a meeting with my thesis advisor at 7:30, class at 9:00 (complete with in-class presentation being given by yours truly), work at 12:00 and a TV date with Natalie at 9:00pm. Those are just the low-lights. The beauty is, aside from knowing where I have to be when, I haven't got a clue what I'll learn, where I'll go or what I'll see. I have no idea who will change my life in the next 24, but I guarantee, somebody will.
All I have to do is keep my eyes open. I'm never bored.
That's what I want. Everything. "Life in every word, to the extent that it's absurd."
And that's what it's like operating on my level. Want to come? It's pretty breezy up here, the water's nice, and it smells like patchouli.
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
In the Words of Alissa J.
I've also pledged this year to catalogue all the little fortune cookies of truthfulness that thoughtfully (and sometimes thoughtlessly) come out of her brilliant mouth. This is just the beginning:
"I love the smell of electricity in the air after a storm, hot asphalt, and laundry. I’m frustrated by people’s propensity to dilute potential with probability, and am unnecessarily annoyed by subscription cards in magazines. I’m disappointed by what we do to each other but only truly scared of what we don’t do; the opportunities not recognized or taken to be a piece of someone’s hopefulness or to make them a part of our grace. I’m every rhapsodic, lighter-waving cliché about peace and love without a single apology for it."
"I love the smell of electricity in the air after a storm, hot asphalt, and laundry. I’m frustrated by people’s propensity to dilute potential with probability, and am unnecessarily annoyed by subscription cards in magazines. I’m disappointed by what we do to each other but only truly scared of what we don’t do; the opportunities not recognized or taken to be a piece of someone’s hopefulness or to make them a part of our grace. I’m every rhapsodic, lighter-waving cliché about peace and love without a single apology for it."
Raison D'Etre
Check out this little guy...
...On another note, I haven't written in a while, mainly because so much has happened in my world that I am not sure I'm prepared to share quite yet. I've started doing something big and new that I'm proud and scared of. And of course, for a type A personality, I'm uncomfortable with not being an expert right away. But I'm getting used to it. I don't know what to say, just yet, about all of this, but mostly I just think it's important to start somewhere. Please don't mistake me for mysterious or cryptic. I'll get there.
Some of you may know what I'm talking about, others may have an idea. If you are in the dark, that's ok too. I don't purport to think I'm so important that it keeps you up at night. I am ok with answering your tough questions. I'll do it gladly, but I can't promise an elegant answer (only an honest one).
I do, however, hope that life continues to humble you, as it does me. I feel, as usual, incredibly thankful, especially with the dawn of the new year and this new change, for my friends. In the past week, I've experienced some incredibly heartening interactions that I feel are noteworthy (Natalie, Aliyah, Alissa and Anna - this means you). I've also experienced some haunting aftershocks that remind me that for far too long I've been settled comfortably and complacently in a very congruous seat. I also hope this year will be filled with as much laughter and heartache as the last. These things are what show us we're alive, after all. I wish us each self-awareness, hope and health. Let us all believe in who we are, and not allow others' perceptions of us, or, more importantly, the way those who allegedly care about us behave, to dictate how we feel in our own skin. I can only hope that none of us are enemies; I renew my resolve to strive for friendship in the face of difference (post-haste, henceforth and active immediately...).
I hope we can all face 2007 with forward looking optimism. I hope we will continue to strive to deserve what we pray for --gratitude, kindness, forgiveness, health, love and prosperity. I hope we each take the type of risks that eventually change the world. When we fail, I hope we fall softly enough to bravely get up and try again. I hope we each find the courage to leave or the strength to stay (no matter what the situation), in addition to the perspective necessary to discern the 'next right thing.' I hope we say what we mean, and seek the honesty it takes to look each other in the eye. I hope we take the time to hear one another, looking always for the common middle ground. I hope we continue to gain the perspective to give each other second (and seventieth) chances, and to accept each other as pluralistic, complicated and flawed human beings.
Mostly though, I hope we each find the softness of affectionate glances when we need them most. I hope we all are able to see, that in a world full of selfishness, meanness and mistrust, we all deserve better (isA).
...On another note, I haven't written in a while, mainly because so much has happened in my world that I am not sure I'm prepared to share quite yet. I've started doing something big and new that I'm proud and scared of. And of course, for a type A personality, I'm uncomfortable with not being an expert right away. But I'm getting used to it. I don't know what to say, just yet, about all of this, but mostly I just think it's important to start somewhere. Please don't mistake me for mysterious or cryptic. I'll get there.
Some of you may know what I'm talking about, others may have an idea. If you are in the dark, that's ok too. I don't purport to think I'm so important that it keeps you up at night. I am ok with answering your tough questions. I'll do it gladly, but I can't promise an elegant answer (only an honest one).
I do, however, hope that life continues to humble you, as it does me. I feel, as usual, incredibly thankful, especially with the dawn of the new year and this new change, for my friends. In the past week, I've experienced some incredibly heartening interactions that I feel are noteworthy (Natalie, Aliyah, Alissa and Anna - this means you). I've also experienced some haunting aftershocks that remind me that for far too long I've been settled comfortably and complacently in a very congruous seat. I also hope this year will be filled with as much laughter and heartache as the last. These things are what show us we're alive, after all. I wish us each self-awareness, hope and health. Let us all believe in who we are, and not allow others' perceptions of us, or, more importantly, the way those who allegedly care about us behave, to dictate how we feel in our own skin. I can only hope that none of us are enemies; I renew my resolve to strive for friendship in the face of difference (post-haste, henceforth and active immediately...).
I hope we can all face 2007 with forward looking optimism. I hope we will continue to strive to deserve what we pray for --gratitude, kindness, forgiveness, health, love and prosperity. I hope we each take the type of risks that eventually change the world. When we fail, I hope we fall softly enough to bravely get up and try again. I hope we each find the courage to leave or the strength to stay (no matter what the situation), in addition to the perspective necessary to discern the 'next right thing.' I hope we say what we mean, and seek the honesty it takes to look each other in the eye. I hope we take the time to hear one another, looking always for the common middle ground. I hope we continue to gain the perspective to give each other second (and seventieth) chances, and to accept each other as pluralistic, complicated and flawed human beings.
Mostly though, I hope we each find the softness of affectionate glances when we need them most. I hope we all are able to see, that in a world full of selfishness, meanness and mistrust, we all deserve better (isA).
Sunday, December 31, 2006
A Little Hope for 2007
This is Maadhu. He's 3 years old, and knows more than I do. He also knows all the capitals in Africa, the Americas and all the State Capitals...What a cutie. I hope my kids are 1/2 as smart and 1/4 as cute as him. I'm in love!
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