Eleven Years Later: My September 10th Persona

“Oh beautiful for Patriot’s dream that sees beyond the years;
Whose alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears.
America, America, God mend thy every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, thy Liberty in Law.”

As I write tonight, two shafts of blue light rise into the Manhattan sky. Three quarters of a continent away, they commemorate the last time that September 11 fell on a Tuesday, when our country was attacked out of a clear, blue sky, and when a generation lost its innocence.

I was teaching that morning, and my car pool driver and I were very nearly late for work. I had a head-ache and a heart-ache after a weekend of conflict with my sixteen year old daughter, and we had agreed not to listen to the radio, so the drive in was peaceful that morning as we listened to Vivaldi’s Autumn. I remember thinking that our fellow Albuquerque drivers were unusually polite that morning, as my friend skillfully maneuvered in traffic, and parked so that we could each dash to our respective classrooms. Stopping by my own classroom to pick up my lesson plans and basket, I arrived at the demo bench for my Physics for Poet’s class just as the final bell sounded. I put my basket of teaching materials on the bench and remained standing as the intercom clicked on, and I expected to hear a Senior’s voice say: “Please stand for the prayer and the Pledge . . .” (I was teaching science in a Catholic High School at that time). Instead, I heard the chaplain across the air, his voice shaking as he said: “Because our country is under attack, I have been asked to give the prayer. . .” I remember looking questioningly at my students, who looked back at me, big-eyed and solemn. And I knew that we had all turned a corner at that moment, although I had no idea at all what had happened.

The ubiquitous “they” say that now that we have passed the tenth anniversary of that day, we need to get over it, to move on. But every year, when I tune into the morning radio show I listen to, I hear a montage of the sounds of that day, and I know that “getting over it” is not something that I want to do, or could if I tried. Moving on is something that we have all done, although that movement has been a journey down an unfamiliar road, to a different trajectory. There are some moments that bind us together, that change us irrevocably, that replace the easy familiarity of how we think things will always be in the instant that a plane struck a tower on a clear, blue Tuesday morning.

Today, some of us across the country have chosen to use this day as a day to reflect on who we were on September 10, 2001, and on how the events of that day, seared into our brains, have changed us, spun us around on our paths, and put us on a path to become September 12 people. So tonight, as the rain falls on the metal roof of a house in a place that I had never expected to live, I resolved to do this, to begin to sort out how I got from there to here. September 11 did not sweep me from one reality to another; that process had already begun, brought about by a more personal crisis a few years before. But it did irrevocably change so many things, although those changes were gradual and hard won.  

On September 10, 2001, my life was already in flux. A cancer had already turned my head around and caused to me question the choices that I had made and was making. In the two years since I had a lump removed and prophylactic radiation done, I had chosen to buy a house for me and my two kids and to leave my marriage. It was not that life was easy before. I had taken sole responsibility for the support of my kids and their dad, and working two and three jobs at a time, and I had burned myself out getting a teaching certificate because I knew that life as a field biologist was not going to work for us, and that chasing research and post-docs and professional appointments was not going to put food on the table and clothes on my children’s backs. I had responsibilities, and it had been clear since before the birth of my son that I had no partner in those responsibilities.

On September 10, 2001, I had found my bashert—my beloved Engineering Geek--and our relationship was strengthening, solidifying, I had found my Baruch, my blessing; the one that I craved and was too afraid to ask for. I was ready to let myself be loved, to let myself be taken care of in a way that I had never had during all the years of my first marriage: my childbearing and rearing, worrying and working years, years in which my children were born and nursed in between classes and jobs, and in which I watched a darkness grow in my first husband, until it consumed him and me, but not the kids—thank goodness, not the kids (or so I thought)—and I was left with a broken man and a broken marriage.

So much was my joy at finding a man—a real man—who wanted to share my life, take care of my kids, make a home together, that I was utterly consumed. And so on September 10, 2001, I was coming off of the weekend of my daughter’s 16th birthday. Sweet 16, and I disappointed her greatly, because I wasn’t able to give her the fantasies that she and I had dreamed up during the hard times. I didn’t rent a hotel room for her and her friends (hotels were frowning more and more on those kinds of teen parties) and during the sleepover she had with her friends, I left them alone to entertain themselves (as I had done with great pleasure at her age), never realizing that she wanted me as June Cleaver —apron and all—to serve the snacks and make a general nuisance of myself. I have no excuse to offer really, except that my generation had rejected poor June Cleaver as the epitome of The Feminine Mystique, and I was head-over-heels in love at the time in my daughter’s life when she was most embarrassed by adult love and, well, by parental adults and their weird behavior in general.  

On September 10, 2001--the day after my daughter’s Sweet Sixteenth, the day that would have been my 19th wedding anniversary to her father—on that evening, my daughter and I had a knock-down drag out argument, complete with frustrated yelling (on my part), angry yelling and door slamming (on hers), and  hormones and tears (on both our parts), asthe tension that had been building between us all weekend created a storm that shattered my sense of efficacy as a mother and sent her to bed with a blinding migraine.

And so on the morning of September 11, I was a chastened mother with a headache, contemplating for the first time my failures as a mother—for it Betty Friedan was right about nothing else, she knew this: it’s always the mother’s fault. And I was still a woman in love, a woman wanting badly to have her new love and her most precious loves all come together to make a family, and maybe this time it would all work out.

And on the morning of September 11, I was also a woman who had sworn off politics. Raised by a libertarian and an Objectivist, I had made a left turn in my first marriage, only to find that all the virtues I thought were there were not, and all the vices—the hatreds and anti-Semitism, the uncaring inhumanity—that I thought were with the conservatives and the libertarians, were present in the watermelon pink of the Greens. So I had recently vowed—I who had never voted for a major party for president in my voting life—that I would be normal and live my life without thinking about politics. Much. Growing up Libertarian was exciting and confusing and exhausting. And it wasn’t easy being Green, either, and rather awkward, really, for someone brought up on Ayn Rand. (Ayn Rand did NOT ruin my life, by the way. But that’s another story . . .)

On the morning of September 11 I was a woman with a life already in the process of change. I was a woman trying to figure out how to create the family I had forgotten I wanted with the very real children I had and a new man who had never changed a diaper or walked the floor with a colicky baby. I was a woman who was trying to figure it out, but I already had felt the cold wind blow, and I had already heard the question, old as Gan Eden: Ayecha! Where are you?

And all that day, I read Psalm 23 for each class I met, and  I struggled to answer my students’ bewildered questions, and I altered lesson plans because I knew they would not remember anything we said and did that day, but only the image of the towers falling, over and over, burned by retina on the canvas of our minds. All that day I thought about the people who would never go home, and about the people who would wait in vain for their return. I thought about those who jumped to their deaths from the burning towers, and those who watched helpless, and heard the impacts, over and over. They were people who went to work, just like me, on that sunny Tuesday morning, the perfect day. And their families waited, just like mine, for work to be done and to be together again, to fight and make-up, to eat and laugh and play and sleep. They were Americans, just like me, who went to work and now would never come home.

Is it then surprising that the first thing I did was try to call my daughter, home sick with the aftermath of her migraine? I did. I called right from the classroom phone, my students a few feet away, trying to tune in a radio to hear the news. But the circuits were busy. And busy again. “Please try your call again later,” said the computer voice. And the second call I tried was to the Engineering Geek at his office at Sandia National Laboratories. But they were evacuating Sandia because they were closing Kirtland AFB, and the EG was nowhere to be found.
All I wanted to do was to call people I loved and cared about, to hear their voices, to make sure they were safe and whole.

And it was utterly impossible to connect to a website or send an e-mail. Everybody was in the computer. Everybody.

Later, I connected with both of them, the EG and my daughter, but it wasn’t until months later that I learned that the EG was out picking out my diamond engagement ring that day, and wasn’t even at Sandia when the towers fell and the base was evacuated.

And that is what everyone else was doing, too. At the same time. We all needed to reassure and be reassured, to touch something beyond the terrible images we were seeing on our TV screens. The kids at the Catholic school where I was teaching wanted to call their folks, to see the Chaplain, and that afternoon, they called for a school-wide Mass. They needed to see their friends, to come together, to right their rocking world.

That was the first lesson we all learned from the murder of over 3000 people at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and Flight 93. How much we need to connect to each other, to reassure one another when such dire things happen.

That was the first, but there were others: how beautiful is Old Glory, lighted by candlelight, half-mast on the porch. How precious our peace and freedom are, and what it takes to defend that liberty from those who would disturb it. How aware even little kids like my son was, and how hard they work to make sense of their world. How angry a 16-year old can become, to see her country attacked and how wisely she can direct that anger, once the first grief has passed.How much passion we all have for the country of our birth and of our dreams.

There were many others in the path from being a September 10th person to becoming, very slowly, a September 12th person. Today is for remembering, and for reflecting on the beginning of that journey. Tomorrow, September 12, is for looking at how we have changed and making a commitment to stand up for the principles and values that we’ve always had but only too recently remembered.

Technorati Tags: America,September 11,Patriotism,Times and Seasons,T'shuvah

Justice in Abottabad

Last night, as I was sitting in bed, catching up on Facebook, I saw a post by the CIT stating that Osama bin Laden had been killed by American forces. At the same time, almost to the second, a friend had IM'd, saying: It looks like the bogeyman is dead." And so he was. Almost ten years since he had become a household name, and many more since he had begun his war with the United States and others, and he had been killed by Navy SEALS, his DNA taken, and his body buried at sea.

I felt a moment of solemn satisfaction of my sense of Justice. I wanted to stand up and sing The Star Spangled Banner, which is what the crowd in Times Square did at almost the same time. I went to sleep after a long day doing various tasks to get the house ready for sale--it's a long, drawn out business--and getting the loss of our friend's new dog registered with the Pet Alert. I did not spend any more time on the internet. And I am glad I did not. I did not want to see the moment of justice politicized and criticized, nor hear any theories about why the government was lying to us about this, too.

So today I put up my flag, and then drove down to Los Lunas to look for Tri. (No luck, but three sightings were reported through the Alerts, so we know where she is hanging around).

It was not until I was driving back up here that I heard the politicization. And later, checking on the web, I saw that the crazy train has once again pulled away from the station, this time with a series of theories on the Libertarian Enterprise alleging that bin Laden has been dead since 2001, and the death was just announced now in order to save Obama's presidency in 2012. I was not perturbed. I do not believe that this one incident will save the O-incompetent from being a one-term president. Only the Republicans can do that by once again choosing a candidate who hardly differs from the Big O himself, himself.

I was not perturbed, but neither do I have either the gumption or the patience to construct fancy arguments to counter either ideologues or loonies. However, there was one protest that kept cropping up that I do want to address, and that is that POTUS and our government are somehow murderers of Osama bin Laden. No, I am quite convinced that bin Laden was ultimately his own worst enemy, and after years of escalating attacks in on the West, he had finally met his match, and even if it took nearly 10 years, vengance is a drink best served cold.

Osama bin Laden declared war on the United States particularly, and upon the West in general. He took up the sword, and he used it against both military targets and civilians in Yemen, in Africa, and within the borders of the United States. He made deliberate, well publicized threats to kill many thousands of innocent people through the organization of terror he created, Al Quaida.

Osama bin Laden was killed by US Navy SEAL Team 6 on 1 May 2011, decades after he began his open war on the West and everything that is not Muslim and not extreme. He was killed, but not murdered. Murder is the unlawful killing of one human being by others, and the victim is innocent within the circumstances of the crime. Self-defense is the killing of one human being by others in order to stop him from committing assault that results in morbidity and death, or the destruction of property resulting in injury or death of innocents. In the case of killing for self defense, the one killed is not innocent, but has initiated force against innocents.

As Americans living under what is left of the Constitution, we have ceded self-defense against foreign invaders--whether they are a nation state or a band of brigands--to the federal government. This is one of the few actions of the federal government that is entirely lawful and Constitutional. Because bin Laden declared war against the United States by his threats, and followed it up with action, he is not a criminal, he is an enemy. We do not capture enemies and bring them to trial, we make war against them. War is not a rule-abiding exercise, and those who make war as Osama bin Laden did, know that. By taking up the sword against the United States, by attacking us on our own soil, he could expect nothing less than total destruction. And so he got it.

This is justice. To cut a man like Osama bin Laden any slack is to discount the rights of the innocent people who were working at the embassies in Africa and at the World Trade Center, and the innocents killed within the Islamic (so-called) House of Peace. It also discounts the fact that Osama deliberately provoked and attacked US military targets,including the USS Cole and the Pentagon. To ignore or excuse such behavior for any reason is to commit an injustice against those whose lives and property were destroyed by a deliberate act of war. It is not within the purview of the federal government and its executive to do that. In order to "provide for the common defense", the President of the United States must act. In this case, Obama acted properly and must be commended.

Of all of the sayings in the "other" Testament, there is one that unequivocally true. It is: The one who takes up the sword will die by the sword. Osama bin Laden took up the sword of Islam against innocents and against military targets. He made war on the United States. Responding to that is not murder, it is justice. Osama died at the hands of those whose Constitutional duty is to defend the people of the United States and their property.

Although I think that to madly celebrate the death of this evil man is unseemly, I do think that the sense of relief that people feel, and the pride that they exhibit at having finally gotten justice--shown in such acts as the singing of the Star Spangled Banner in Times Square Sunday evening--is entirely appropriate. There is pride in doing justice, because it is the moral response to acts such as Osama bin Laden's murderous terror. He chose his behavior, and in so doing, chose the consequences of it. The innocent people falling from the sky to their deaths on September 11 did not so choose.

I am not joyful about this, and I do not celebrate; rather, this moment has caused me to be happy that their deaths have finally been accorded the justice that they deserve.

Tax Day Tea Party: Second Annual

This week has been . . . one of those weeks.
Nevertheless, in the midst of sadness and worry, as well as busy preparations,
the Ragamuffin House crew went out to the Albuquerque Tax Day Tea Party 2.0 yesterday.
Unfortunately, yours truly forgot to charge the camera, and all the pictures were from the first part of the event. Then the battery ran out!

Despite concerns, it was another peaceful, happy event for the Tea Party participants, as we lined up along Menaul, both sides, all the way from San Pedro to Wyoming Avenues.

We were at least 9000 strong.

NEARLY WORDLESS SPECIAL: TEA PARTY EDITION

The Rasta-Jew and I volunteered to drive our truck along Montgomery, where the Tea Party was held last year. There was a misdirection campaign--possibly by OFA--and so we wanted to counter it. But ATP had done a good publicity job and the only people across from the IRS were the progressive singing grandmothers.




After we did about five rounds up and down Montgomery, we headed back to Menaul to join the Tea Party.
Here the Rasta-Jew unfurls the First Navy Jack.
Later, he enjoyed jogging up and down the street, flag flying in the breeze.





Three of the NMPA ladies display their signs as they move toward the street to join the Tea Party. Each sign fits their personality--one with no sign, just the flag, Coleen with her flowered patriotic shirt and "Save the Republic" and Connie, reminding our non-representing representatives what's coming in November.




Shot from across the street, this is on the corner of Wyoming and Menaul at the peak of the Tea Party. I wonder if, as the evening wore on, some of them took tea and ice-cream breaks!

People were happy to be out and enjoy the like-minded company, but there was an edge to their signs that indicate that they understand that the Pols are not listening.

Over and over, I saw signs that said things like: Heinrich, Udall, Bingaman--Remember, remember the 2nd of November.

That's election day.






There were also a lot of people and signs out in anticipation of the National 2nd Amendment Rights protest on April 19.

Here, Milt exercises both his First and Second Amendment Rights.

In New Mexico, open carry is honored and practiced.







Dave, the fearless leader of NMPA, here holds his typical sign: short and to the point.

On the other side he had written:
"This is our line in the Sand" next to a picture of the Constitution of the United States.

He was wearing his favorite Patriot Shirt--and I must say, it looks good on him.

During the Tea Party, I walked the whole thing--from Pennsylvania to Wyoming on the north side of Menaul, then back down to San Pedro on the south side, and then back up the north side to Pennsylvania.

I saw a lot of great signs. Many said things like:

"I want to vote for a black president, but not a red one."

"Spread your own damn wealth around!"

"BO: You are not entitled to my wealth!"

And this old car, decorated for the occasion.

A good time was had by most--but most of the Tea Partiers realized that this was keep up the momentum--they know the Pols are not listening.

A Patriot's Dream That Sees Beyond the Years

Eight years ago, we awoke to a vision of a great city that we never wanted to see.

Smoke rising from twin towers.

People falling from the sky.

The noise of life becoming the stillness of death and destruction.

Last year, on this anniversary I wrote:

"I remember looking into the young eyes of . . . those who will not directly remember 9-11, hoping that out of this terrible attack we could bring to them a world of greater prudence and liberty."

I said that no sleeping giant had been awakened, that the Freedom Towers had not been built, and I feared for my country.

And this year I could stop there, having written the same, or even worse, for I fear that the strength of the United States, derived from individual rights and Liberty, is being even more rapidly being taken from before our very eyes than before.

And I still fear for the Republic.

And yet, I have seen evidence that the spirit of our founders, is being awakened anew as the peril to our liberties has accelerated.

Nine. Eleven. It always brings to my mind America the Beautiful. We sang the song together in the gym of the school where I taught that day. And this year, I hold stubbornly to this verse:

"O Beautiful, for patriot's dream that sees beyond the years,

Whose alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears . . ."

But those cities will be built by the hands of those who know the rest of the verse:

"America, America, G-d mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, thy liberty in law."

The flaw that we must mend is the idea that this great city was built by the lotus-eaters, living in a perpetual state of dependence, and that the night of this great city was lit by those who dwell in land that is "ever afternoon."

It was human liberty that built that great city. The self-control necessary for individuals to forgo immediate gratification in order to save, to plan, to dream the future. Those lights show us where the alabaster buildings will grow, that are now a spark in the minds of the builders. That liberty is expressed in law that protects the rights of the individual, making room for the creative expression of those ideas--those light-bulbs of the mind--that require years to bring to fruition.

This is an image of the great city rebuilt.

The tower built by the work of free human beings, undimmed by the salt-water tears of slavery.

This is the patriot's dream of those who are now waking to the true peril of the Republic. A peril that comes from within, from the loss of the American spirit of freedom and ingenuity.

In the history of the world, the United States Constitution is an uncommon document for an uncommon individual: one who is free to dream big and whose right to a future of his own building is secured by a government limited to protecting his right to life, liberty and property.

This is the patriot's dream that sees beyond these years in which we must once again struggle to call our government to account.

I have placed this picture ever before me, an inspiration of what we will achieve when we restore the Constitution. May it be so in our own day and life.

O, Beautiful for Patriot's dream that sees beyond the years!

9/11 & 9/12: Standing Up in New Mexico

This weekend is an important one for patriots.
Here in New Mexico, Ragamuffin house will be joining in two days during which we will stand up.

Tomorrow is Patriots Day, the day upon which Patriots will gather to REMEMBER the terribly attack on the World Trade Center in 2001.

A day upon which we began to wake up. The day upon which the unraveling mood began to change forever.

For Ragamuffin House, this is a day of REMEMBERANCE. And we will be lighting our Shabbat Candles at Haynes Park in Rio Rancho, where the Albuquerque Tea Party will be putting on a Candlelight Vigil as a memorial to those who fell and those who helped. The Vigil is at 7:30 on 9/11.

Picture Credit: New York Post, 2007.

On Saturday, 9/12, we will be joining with Tea Party groups and 9/12ers across the state in Santa Fe, as we March on the Capitol.

This will be the fourth such Tea Party Rally that we have attended. In the picture to the right you see the Chem Geek Princess at the first Tea Party.

For this Rally, I am planning a new sign. It will have a picture of Barack Obama and say "L'Etat es Vous? NO! Where is the Fourth Estate?" On the back it will say, Where are Woodward and Bernstein when we need them?

It is time we called the press on their inaction. Why 30 years ago they would have been all over some of the scandles we have been treated to in Washington in the past few years.

Americans, it is time to stand up!

Don't underestimate us, O ye who claim to represent us!

May the memories of the fallen on 9/11 spur us to action.
May G-d save the Republic of the United States.

R3volution: Adam Kokesh

Last year at this time, I wrote about the Declaration of Indepedence. I wrote about the document that 56 men signed at the risk of their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor. The document that founded the United States.

This year, I am writing about the Revolution that must be renewed in this country to restore the Liberty that our founders pledged their lives to protect, and the rising leaders whose passionate commitment to our liberty can inspire us all.

I begin by posting a speech by Adam Kokesh, who will be running for Congress in New Mexico's 3rd Congressional District.

Here is his speech at the Revolution March:





As with Thomas Paine, we are arriving once again at the Crisis, and "the times that try men's souls" are nigh at the door. Adam Kokesh is one who can and will lead us through this crisis with a passion for Liberty. This is no sunshine patriot.

This July 4th, I will stand with him, in love of Liberty.

A Navy Jack for the EG

At the Albuquerque Tea Party, we saw many flags, including the Gadsen "Don't Tread on Me" Flag, which has a coiled rattlesnake on a yellow field, and the First Navy Jack "Don't Tread on Me" Flag, which displays an uncoiled rattlesnake on Union--13 red and white stripes.


Being a Navy Veteran (USS Hepburn), the Engineering Geek wanted a Navy Jack. I looked on line and found many very inexpensive flags, but ended up ordering a quality flag from an American flag maker (made in the USA) through Amazon.

The EG would have objected to an American flag made in China.
I ordered the flag and a spin-free flag pole separately.



The flag arrived first, along with a decal of the same, and we hung it up on the wall in entryway.


The First Navy Jack is exactly that: first. It was first hung from the jackstands of the Continental Navy in 1775 by order of the first commander of the Navy, Commodore Esek Hopkins, as the fleet stood ready on the Delaware river.
NOTE: Please see the comments. There is evidently some controversy about this story concerning Esek Hopkins regarding what flag was the first Navy Jack. More information can be found here. I will leave the story above, but this history is hard to verify. The rest of the history interwoven below is not in doubt.

The rattlesnake was a popular symbol of colonial resistance to British tyranny before and during the Revolutionary War.
The rattlesnake, as an anonymous letter to the editor (now attributed to Benjamin Franklin) explained, is the perfect symbol for America. A rattlesnake does not strike without warning first, but when it strikes it is swift and deadly.


Last night, the EG picked up the flag pole at the Tijeras Post Office, and this morning he put it together in preparation for hanging the flag outside.

He said he'd like me to order another flag pole like this one, as it is of good construction and it is spin-free, so that the flag will not roll around the pole in the ever-present mountain winds. I am also to order another bracket, so that we can fly the Navy Jack and the Stars and Stripes on national holidays.






Another interesting piece of history about this flag is that the Navy ship which has been commissioned the longest and is still serving, flies a special Navy Jack from her jackstand; the flag is special because it is passed to the next ship when the oldest ship is decommissioned.

Here the EG puts the new First Navy Jack onto the jackstand of the USS Los Pecos. When he hangs the ship's bell and the boatswain's pipe from the USS Constitution in the front hall, we will have to have a showdown. Is he the captain and me, the Exec? Or vice versa?

When he puts a lectern on the driveway, and makes us face the flag as we enter--excuse me, cross the quarter deck-- while he stands watch, then I will know he has read How to Simulate Navy Life at Home. Oy.



Another point of information about this flag: since 2002, it flies on the jackstands of all United States Navy ships for the duration of the current hostilities. (I can't remember this weeks politically correct term for the WOT).

Seriously, though, we got this flag because I wanted a "Don't Tread on Me" flag, and the Engineering Geek wanted a Navy Jack.


As more and more taxpayers understand what has been done to our liberty in the last 100 years, we all feel a bit like rattling the rattle and hissing "Don't Tread on Me!"


Like Ben Franklin's rattlesnake, we won't strike without warning, but our patience is not infinite.

Patriot Days

It is instructive that as I sit facing my calendar, I see that although April 27 is marked as "Freedom Day (South Africa)", the 18th and 19th days of April are not marked at all, and this on a calendar that was "Printed in the United States." It is somewhat reassuring to note that July 4 is marked as Independence Day, and the independence days of other nations are so marked, but it is disconcerting to see that Constitution Day, September 29, is also missing from this calendar.

I will not be purchasing another calendar from this particular publisher.

For to celebrate the 4th of July without marking the day upon which the fight for our liberty had its inception, and the day upon which that liberty was guarranteed by law and oath is to turn it into a holiday with no roots and no wings. By tearing Independence Day out of context, we are throwing the real history of our freedom down Orwell's fabled memory hole, perhaps out of some misplaced politically correct version in which Liberty can be achieved by proclaimation without revolution and the rejection of tyranny.

On the 19th of April, 1775, the Militias of Lexington and Concord took up arms against King George's Redcoats who had come to confiscate their arms, cannon and powder. The British Regulars, under the command of General Gage, had blockaded the Port of Boston, occupied the Town of Boston and placed its denizens under martial law because of the tax resistance of colonists that culminated in New England with the Boston Tea Party in December of 1773.

In addition, the British Crown had confiscated the property of the individuals, quartered their troops in the houses of the citizens, and suspended trial by jury, subjecting the people of Boston to military tribunals.

It is instructive to remember that these violations of the rights of Englishmen were the reason for the American Revolution; the cause for which Colonel Parker and his Militia "fired the shot heard 'round the world." These violations found their way into the Declaration of Independence in the listing of the "crimes of the king" and they were answered in the Bill of Rights, the first ten Amendments to the Constitution. The Founding Generation had direct experience with the coercive actions of a central government whose power went unchecked. They challenged that power by taking up arms to defend their rights first at the Green at Lexington.




And it is instructive to note that those first patriots stood by that "rude bridge that arched the flood" to defend the right to keep and bear arms, a right that was affirmed as the second amendment, not because people like to hunt for sport, but because the founders knew that it might become necessary to defend those rights against an oppressive central government once again.




Today many Americans are waking up to the fact that we have an oppressive central government: An Executive Branch that has been busy accruing power to itself over the past decades; a Congress that no longer properly represents us, but usurps our property rights through confusing and unconstitutional legislation; courts that have ignored the Constitution they are sworn to uphold by making decisions that clearly violate the meaning and the intent of the founders, thus violating our rights. We intend to defend our rights in a peaceful revolution of the ballot box and the soapbox. We earnestly pray that we never have to take up arms against the government established to serve us and protect our rights.


And today, on that sacred ground of the Green at Lexington, we were assured that there are those among our military services, our militias, and our peace officers, who intend to stand by their oath " . . . to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic . . ." The Oathkeepers stood today there at the cradle of our Liberty and proclaimed the ten orders they would refuse to obey. They did so because most of these illegal orders have been given in recent history in the United States, and shamefully some of their own have obeyed them.



Many citizens who are not in the services took the opportunity to swear the same oath this Patriot Day, vowing to uphold the Constitution of the United States, so pledging "our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor."




Given the peril to our Constitution, which has been growing over our own lifetimes, there may be many Patriot Days to come; days upon which we will be called upon to risk our lives and our fortunes in order to uphold our sacred honor.


"The tree of Liberty," we were told, "Is nourished by the blood of patriots."

I most sincerely hope that for our generation, as we work to restore our Constitution, these words are figurative rather than real.

Here's to You, Mr. Jefferson . . .

This is too good not to share . . .




And don't forget Mr. Santelli, who hit a nerve and started the Tea Parties.

This seems right in line with the Festival of Freedom! Now I am getting my enthusiasm back.

What Must a Free People Do?

Yesterday, the Engineering Geek and I attended a public meeting about the We the People Organization's 2009 Continental Congress.

At the meeting, we met Bob Schulz, the founder of the We the People Organization, who is traveling to cities in every state of the union in order to develop a mass movement to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.

Bob Schulz is a man with a gift and a passion. An engineer by training and trade, he is thorough in his analysis of problems, and he has a passion for Liberty, and thus for the Constitution, which was written to restrain our government and protect our unalienable rights.

The road to the We the People Continental Congress began when Bob went to a municipal public meeting at a firehouse in upstate New York. The public meeting was about an upcoming public works project, and Bob rose to ask a few questions, since the project concerned a discipline he knew well. Evidently, his questions were a little too incisive, because the pols involved refused to answer them publically, and instead wanted to discuss the matter privately. But Bob wanted his questions aired and answered before the town meeting. The incident eventually led to a lawsuit, because the project was not beneficial to the town, but was intended to line the pockets of a few of the pols in charge. Bob won. And the town retaliated against him when he went to subdivide his property to fund his nascent government watchdog group, We the People. He accepted a gig as an afternoon drive talkshow host on his local radio station, and from talking to callers, Bob began to realize the extent of corruption in state and national politics as well. When he realized that the Federal government is in violation of nearly every article of the United States Constitution, Bob began to study that document.

The moral of the story: Politicians! Beware an engineer who develops a passion for a problem. Bob consulted Constitutional scholars, and his organization went national. Bob developed a particular passion for what he calls "the capstone right of the First Amendment": the right of the people to petition their government for redress of grievances. In his presentation to the concerned citizens of New Mexico yesterday, Bob traced the history of this right from the Magna Carta to the Constitution and beyond.

The Magna Carta, which was signed by King John at Runnymeade, England, in 1290 (at the point of a sword), was the document that forced the king to share power and recognize the rights of Englishmen as understood by English Common Law. The English were not about to accept an absolute monarchy which was a violation of their customs and traditions. In the Magna Carta, the redress of grievances is guaranteed thus:

“If we, our chief justice, our officials, or any of our servants offend in any respect against any man, or transgress any of the articles of the peace or of this security, and the offence is made known to four of the said twenty-five barons, they shall come to us - or in our absence from the kingdom to the chief justice - to declare it and claim immediate redress.
If we, or in our absence abroad the chief justice, make no redress within forty days, reckoning from the day on which the offence was declared to us or to him, the four barons shall refer the matter to the rest of the twenty-five barons, who may distrain upon and assail us in every way possible, with the support of the whole community of the land, by seizing our castles, lands, possessions, or anything else saving only our own person and those of the queen and our children, until they have secured such redress as they have determined upon. Having secured the redress, they may then resume their normal obedience to us.” Magna Carta, 1290

(The Royal "WE" is employed here to mean the monarch).

Thus, the great tradition of Court Days, upon which the monarch sat outside in the courtyard and heard the petitions of even the most humble of subjects was born. The American colonists brought that tradition across the Atlantic, and continued to insist upon their right to petition for redress and be answered. In the Declaration of Independence, the Founders justified their separation from England and their right to form a new government upon the fact that King George III and Parliament answered repeated petitions for redress only with repeated injury:

“In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms. Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by with repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is thus unfit to be the ruler of a free people….” Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776

(The capitalizations here are not just quaint colonial fashion, the mark specific concepts coming from the English Common Law).

In the Constitution, the right for Redress of Grievances is the capstone of the First Amendment, a right from which the other First Amendment rights are derived:

“Congress shall make no law respecting the establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, freedom of the press; or the Right of the People peaceably to assemble, and to Petition the government for a Redress of Grievances.” First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, 1791.

This right was cherished by the People of the United States up until 1830. Every Monday, petitioners came before the relevant committees of the United States Congress to air their grievances and receive an answer or the promise of a written response. In 1830, the southern states forced a "gag rule" to shut down the abolitionists, and the use of this right faded. . .

. . . Until 1995. In that year, Bob Schulz and his We the People Congress began a series of Petitions for the Redress of Grievances to all three branches of the Federal Government. These petitions all addressed grievances caused by the violation of the United States Constitution. Such petitions included:

• the violation of the monetary clause by bailing out the Mexican Peso (1995)
• the violation of the Constitutional ban on the direct unapportioned tax on labor (the income tax) (1999, 2000, 2001)
• the violation of Article 4 by use of the USA Patriot Act (2002)

There were many more, and a complete list can be found here.

Although the topics of the peoples petitions are interesting documentation of percieved injury, the content of the answers are not at issue; what is most important is that the government is required to respond, just as the King of England was. And none of the petitions thus far have received a response. No. Response. At. All.

What is a free people to do? As Bob says, "The Constitution does not defend itself." The Federal system of government is not Sovereign; As Alexander Hamilton put it, "Here, Sir, the People govern." It is the people who are Sovereign. And our rights are individual. Every individual has the right to petition and must be answered.

According to the Declaration of Independence, if the government instituted by the people at the consent of governed becomes tyrannical, the people have the right, derived from the unalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, to dissovle that government and institute a new one that will protect their rights. The rights belong to the individual. They are inherent in the nature of human beings; they are not a gift of government. The government exists only to protect those rights.

What must a free people do? This is the question that the 2009 Continental Congress is intended to answer. It will be a gathering of three delegates from every state in the United States. It is not a Constitutional Convention; it is a Congress at which the delegates, will consider the violations to the constitution by our government, ennumerate them, take note of the efforts of the People to Petition for the Redress of Grievances, and then consider and determine what the next step must be.

At this point, the People must take action to secure their Liberty once again. Taking a page from Ghandi, and Martin Luther King, Bob Schulz and the We the People Organization believes that three things are needed for successful action: it must be proactive, non-violent, and come from a mass movement. Thus the Mission of the 2009 Continental Congress is:

"The Mission of the Continental Congress is to end and reverse violations of the Constitution of the United States of America by educating Americans on the issue of petitions for redress. We will do this by acting in a proactive, non-violent, constitutionally based course of action to restore the original intent of our Founding Fathers for the free people of our Constitutional Republic." (WTPCC Powerpoint, e-mailed from Bob Schulz on March 21, 2009).

Although there will only be three delegates from each state, this movement will need local and state support, because the acts of civil disobedience that will be required as the course of action, can only be successful if a sizeable minority of citizens engage in them.

At our meeting, there came a moment when those who are willing to act to protect and defend the Constitution were asked to stand. The Engineering Geek and I, along with a sizeable majority in the room, did stand. We were mindful of the words of Thomas Paine:

"THESE are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as FREEDOM should not be highly rated." (The Crisis, December 23, 1776).

Our founders pledged to one another "our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor" in the cause of Liberty. If we want our children to receive their inheritance of Liberty, the time has come to act. For otherwise, in our old age, we will watch them toiling as indentured servants to the National Debt. It will take generations to pay for the pork and the earmarks, the acts of an irresponsible government at war with reality.

The Bicentennial Anniversary of Lincoln's Birth

I was born and raised in Illinois, the Land of Lincoln.

Growing up in the 1960's was a problematic time for those of us who needed heroes, as the deconstructing of the virtues of dead white men and their civilization got underway in that decade. Nevertheless, Abraham Lincoln was one of my heroes.
I read every book I could get my hands on about Lincoln's life and legacy.

I remember standing on tiptoe at the adult book checkout counter of the public library, handing over Carl Sandburg's Lincoln. The librarian peered over the counter at the little girl in braids, and then said, "Tell your mother that this is due in three weeks."

I learned to sing this song from my first music book, Music for Americans:
"Old Abe Lincoln, he came out of the wilderness . . . way down in Illinois!"
And this from the Illinois state song:
" . . . On the record of thy years,
Abraham Lincoln's name appears,
Grant and Logan, and our tears, Illinois, Illinois,
Grant and Logan, and our tears, Illinois."

In grade four, I won the county literary contest with my delivery of the Gettysburg Address, ending with the stirring phrase ". . . that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom and that this government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth" (November 19, 1863).

In the following year I won again with the recitation of Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address. I loved this part: " . . . With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in . . ." (March 4, 1865).

I learned in first grade that Abraham Lincoln was born on February 12, 1809, near Hodginville, Kentucky; and as an Illinois schoolgirl, I had a school holiday every year on that date until I graduated from high school. I was taken to Lincoln's New Salem, Lincoln Log Cabin Stae Park, Lincoln's Home, the Old State Capitol, and to the sacred silence of Lincoln's Tomb, many times.

Today, I marvel that as an adult, I am here to honor the Bicentennial Anniversary of Lincoln's birth. In the '60s, I did not even think about how old I would be when Lincoln's 200th birthday came around!

Here is my favorite picture of Abraham Lincoln as 16th President of the United States, along with two very timely quotations by Lincoln:

"Property is the fruit of labor...property is desirable...is a positive good in the world. That some should be rich shows that others may become rich, and hence is just encouragement to industry and enterprise. Let not him who is houseless pull down the house of another; but let him labor diligently and build one for himself, thus by example assuring that his own shall be safe from violence when built." Reply to New York Workingmen's Democratic Republican Association (March 21, 1864).

This is a very different than the plan of our current politicians to take from those who have worked to build their houses to pay for those who haven't.

"It is an old maxim and a very sound one, that he that dances should always pay the fiddler. Now, sir, in the present case, if any gentlemen, whose money is a burden to them, choose to lead off a dance, I am decidedly opposed to the people's money being used to pay the fiddler...all this to settle a question in which the people have no interest, and about which they care nothing. These capitalists generally act harmoniously, and in concert, to fleece the people, and now, that they have got into a quarrel with themselves, we are called upon to appropriate the people's money to settle the quarrel." - Abraham Lincoln, January 11, 1837

I only wish that the current President of the United States, also from Illinois, would harken to the homespun wisdom of a man born in a log cabin, rather than use the people's money to pay the fiddler to the tune of a so-called stimulus.

Abe, where are you when we need you?

Inauguration Tuesday

Today, the United States witnessed a transcending moment.
That this happens every eight years makes it no less unique or special.
For today, we saw the peaceful transfer of the office of President of the United States from one man to another, as we have seen in ordinary times and extraordinary times, from 1789 until now.


Today was an extraordinary time, as Barack Obama was sworn in as the first Black President of the United States, standing on the same Capital Mall as MLK did, when he said, "I have a dream . . ."

For many Americans, this is a dream fulfilled.
Tomorrow, Mr. Obama begins to govern.
Tomorrow, Americans will begin to argue about the wisdom of his government, the policies he proposes and the vision he works to make a reality.

Even that vision will be trasmuted from within and from without. From within, it will change as Mr. Obama confronts the realities that his administration must work within. From without, the change will come from the push-and-pull of politics, as through their representatives, the people of the United States demand to have their unique and diverse voices heard.
This is what our founders intended: not the efficiency of a well-oiled collective, but rather the push-and-pull of a government of, for, and by the people at work.

Tomorrow, where the rubber meets the road, Mr. Obama will begin to get the reality of the change: that his vision will not remain what it was as Candidate Obama.
Tomorrow, we will begin to pick apart the new President's policies. We will agree with some and vehemently disagree with others.

But for today, we have the satisfaction of taking pride in the Republic and in the enduring grace with which the Office of the Chief Executive is transfered. We saw it in 1789. We saw it twice in 1865. We saw it in 1974, when in the midst of division and scandal, a president resigned, and we could smile through our pain because our system worked.

Tomorrow, Mr. Obama must begin to earn our criticism and our compliments.

But for today, just for today, we can stop and rejoice in this peaceful transfer of power mandated by the Constitution.

Congratulations, President Obama.
Best Wishes to the United States.

An Aspie Approach to an Unending Controversy

I think the flag of the United States is beautiful.
Upon returning to the US from foreign lands, I enjoy most hearing "Welcome home," when I go through the passport check, and the sight of Old Glory, bright and bold, gracing the skies of my homeland. There is a place in my heart that swells with love and pride when I see it, waving in the wind. It is the love of the ideals upon which this country was founded that moves me, as well as pride for the genius of the founders who crafted this intentionally oppositional system of government in order to safeguard my liberty.

And at the same time, I have never considered that flag to be more than a symbol of something else. "It's a flag," I think, "It's not a god, it's not the Constitution, and it's not the nation itself." I think about this every time a new flap about the flag or the pledge of allegiance to the flag in reported in the news.

It is not that I want this symbol of liberty to be treated with contempt. I get it when a fellow teacher who served in battle for the United States Army says, "I risked my life for what that flag symbolizes, and it angers me to see it treated with disdain."
But what I do not get is that disagreements about the flag and the pledge of allegiance can cause otherwise peaceful neighborhoods to go at each other's throats with an insane amount of venom. The Aspie in me wonders how in the world either "side" could be that important.

Today, I opened my Sunday Albuquerque Journal to the Dimension section to read about a Vermont school where this has happened. Neighbors are up in arms.
"Wouldn't it be more productive if you all spent your Tuesday evenings strategizing the remodel of your bathrooms and kitchens?" I want to ask.

Sometimes, I wonder if my study of the behavioral neuropsychology of ASD is really about psychopathology; this story seems more fraught with psychopathology than does the inability to lie effectively seen in AS.

In my years as a teacher in New Mexico, I had a wide variety of experiences concerning the use of "the Pledge" as we called it. Although it is part of the New Mexico Code (i.e. state law) that the pledge of allegiance will be given at the beginning of each school day, it was completely ignored in the state capital school district. The public address system did not work at the Santa Fe high school where I did my post-baccelaureate licensure internship, and I never saw any flag flying from the flagpole. On the other hand, at Rio Rancho High, the morning advisory came with "the pledge" to the flag, viewed by closed-caption TV in every classroom. At the private Catholic school where I was the only non-Christian teacher, I led my class in the pledge and then invited one of the students to come up and give the "Our Father" prayer. The kids tended to say it all in a perfunctory manner that fooled me into thinking that it was rote, until I asked them once what it all meant to them as part of a Socratic Discussion in their Advisory period. They were quite serious about the importance of both. But even though they said " . . . and to the republic for which it stands. . ." every day of their school careers, most of my students had no idea that they lived in a republic, not a democracy.

As a result of that discussion, we determined that in our class, we would not only give the prayer and "the pledge," but that we would recite the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States, in order to remind ourselves of the mission statement of our government.
That was eye-opening for all of us, and led to some very interesting discussions about current events.

When I taught gifted education at an Albuquerque public school, I continued this tradition, sans the prayer, and again, that led to some very interesting discussions about the role of the federal government in our lives as Americans. It was particularly germane, given the content curriculum my 4th -5th grade gifted kids were studying with me, the William and Mary Curriculum about the founding of this nation.

Then I stopped teaching other people's children and began homeschooling the Boychick. We decided to hang the flag outdoors every morning that the weather allowed. We then had a discussion about "the pledge." Together, we decided that to us, pledging allegiance to a flag made no sense at all. It is not the flag that we owe allegiance to, nor the servant government that established the flag. Rather, it is the US Constitution that guarantees our liberty and is intended to secure our rights as human beings.

So we continued with the tradition begun by my class at the Catholic school of reciting the Preamble to the Constitution, sans the prayer and "the pledge." (We did have prayer in our homeschool--but we did the flag ceremony after the morning service). At first it felt a little ridiculous, the two of us, Boychick often still in PJ's, hanging the flag and standing at attention while reciting:

"We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

But just as it did among my high school class, and my gifted class, this custom sparked conversations about the role of the Constitution, the role of the people, and the proper bounds of government.

So here is my solution to all those neighbors going at each other over "the pledge."
Stop it.
Replace "the pledge" with a daily recitation of the Preamble to the US Constitution.
Instead of fights over the words "under G-d" and "indivisible," you can begin having interesting discussions about the role of government in the lives of We the People. And as teachers of our children, it helps to listen more than we talk. It's amazing how well kids can consider these things.

And anyway, the flag is merely and ultimately a symbol of something much greater than a colorful, if beloved, piece of cloth. It is the symbol of an idea. The idea that governments are instituted among us to secure our rights at our consent.
What a concept!

New Mexico's "Flag"-Ship University?

I have not posted anything political in a very long time. However, this is something that happened here at home. I have strong opinions about it and I cannot let this one pass in silence.

The University of New Mexico bills itself as "New Mexico's Flagship University."

It is my guess that the powers that be that reside in Scholes Hall--which is the administration building--consider that to mean that it is the first among equals in the state university system. Because if New Mexicans thought it meant something to actually do with the actual flag--you know, the one we lovingly call 'Old Glory'--we'd all ROTFL.

Here are the facts: On September 17, 2007--the 220th anniversary of the adoption of the United States Constitution--students arrived on campus to find the Mexican national flag flying alone in front of Scholes Hall. Evidently, the Mexican Student's Union had put the flag up next to Old Glory on Friday to mark Mexican independence day but did not take it down. The ROTC squad that took the American flag down left the Mexican flag flying alone because they thought that the Mexican Student's Union would take it down later. (The ROTC squad should be doing extra push-ups for this lack of knowledge of flag ettiquette. You don't ever lower the US flag on American territory before another national flag. It makes it look like you've surrendered to a foreign power). Some students might have thought that maybe the powers that be in Scholes Hall had surrendered UNM to Mexico--after all, when it comes to the university administration's actions, students tend to think nothing is too far fetched to be true. But most students probably didn't notice anything at all except that the shuttles were running late and crowded, and hurried off to class. That is, except Peter Ryan Lynch, a decorated US war veteran and a student. And he called up the powers that be at Scholes Hall to inform them of the surrender...er, I mean mistake.

This is what transpired in his own words:

"Throughout history, flying a nation's banner is a claim of ownership. To do this on U.S. Constitution Day is an insult to all Americans. I am outraged that the UNM administration allowed this to happen. I thought the administration would address the issue before my class was over. I left class, and the foreign banner was still unaccompanied. I went to the dean's office pleading for action. I also notified the Army ROTC, which has the honor of raising and lowering the U.S. flag on campus this month. I waited one to 1 1/2 hours after these notifications to take action myself. I made a profound statement and tore down this foreign banner. My actions, although overzealous, were warranted."
(From the Daily Lobo, Opinion, 9/25/07).

Mr. Lynch delivered the torn Mexican flag to the ROTC commander. And then the hullaballoo started. He was charged with destruction of property. El Centro de La Raza cried "racism" and charged that this was a "hate crime." The President of the UNM Schmidley decried the tearing down of the Mexican flag, but said nothing about his responsibility as the 'admiral' of New Mexico's "flagship' for the violation of US law and the insult to American citizens caused by the Mexican flag flying three days alone over sovereign US territory.

It is interesting that the president of the university does not get it that the buck for whatever happens on UNM campus should stop on his desk. We have too many public officials who do not take the responsibility that goes with the powers of an office. Schmidley may not be personally responsible for insulting American sensibilities in this case, but he leads the institution that is responsible. A leader ought to take corporate responsibility instead of spouting nonsense about how New Mexico was once part of Mexico. That history has not bearing on the breach of patriotic duty we witnessed on September 17.

It is interesting that the Army ROTC did not know how to handle the ceremonial responsibilities that go with the honor of posting and striking the colors. It would have been better to have taken the Mexican flag down first and returned it to La Raza or left 'Old Glory' flying, than to do what they did. The ROTC leadership needs to apologize to the UNM community and the citizens of US for the insult tendered by this lack of knowledge. And maybe they ought to impose extra laps or pushups on the color guard members who "forgot" their responsibility to post the US flag on Constitution day.

El Centro de la Raza had better take the advice handed to everyone who dwells in glass palaces. An organization with a name that means 'the Center for the Race' should not be the first to cry racism. And they should further note that hate crimes are, by definition, crimes against people, not flags. It is neither racism nor hatred that motived Mr. Lynch's actions. It was a passionate commitment to the honor of his country. A commitment for which Mr. Lynch has demonstrated his willingness to shed blood and die, if necessary.

As for Mr. Lynch, I think he was overzealous. As a mother nearing fifty years of age, I would probably have taken down the Mexican flag and turned it over, intact, to La Raza. Age and experience has cooled my zealousness a little bit. But Mr. Lynch is a young man. And young men and women tend to be zealous for their causes, and passionate about their beliefs. Would that those who would like to lead this country would demonstrate as much passion for American sensibilities as does Mr. Lynch. It is not racist to defend the honor of the United States and the Constitution. It is not hatred to be passionate about the ideals that this nation espouses. As Mr. Lynch puts it:

"Americans have one of the most diverse cultures on the planet. We embrace our differences, and unless you are a foreign visitor or illegal immigrant, your nationality is American. We are all equals under the Constitution and the Stars and Stripes that protect us. Americans should fly their nation's banner with pride." (Daily Lobo, Opinions, 9/25/07)

We need more young men and women like this.