Selma to Montgomery, March, 1963

March 7, 1963
Scene from "Bloody Sunday" in Selma, Alabama.

Forty-eight years ago this month, on March 7, 1965, approximately 600 people began a march from Selma, Alabama, to the state capital in Montgomery to petition for protection of black citizens who were being kept from registering to vote. After only six blocks they were stopped at the Edmund Petus Bridge by state troopers and local law enforcement personnel who drove them back with tear gas and billy clubs. 

The scene of this "Bloody Sunday" shown on the nightly news was crucial in growing support for the cause of civil rights around the nation.

Two weeks later, after a call for support from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and others. approximately 3,200 marchers began the march again. Others joined until four days later when they reached the capital 25,000 people were in the crowd.

Aaron Connors and Dar Jones, two fictional characters in my novel Too Much Left Unsaid, participate and I tell the story of what they felt and how it affected their lives. 

 

My novel will be published by The Write Place, and should be available in mid-June.

If you want to know more about the events of that March march, you can go to the link I have inserted.

Email me at Collinsl@central.edu if you want more information about my book or comment below.

Why being Right might be wrong.

I was in high school when I first realized that
 other people do not think like I do.

Before that moment of enlightenment, I "used to think" that somehow others came to different conclusions from mine because they were not reasoning clearly.

But then I discovered other people
   are starting in a different place
   and seeing the whole situation in a different way.

Seeing the problem from another viewpoint leads to a very different solution.

Mark Putnam, President of Central College, has a blog called Mark My Words that I follow.

Last week, Mark pointed out

   we all view everything from a bias that we might not even notice.

We may be quite right about something from our own point of view,
   but we are wrong if we fail to realize that other viewpoints are possible.

If we hope to dialog with people who come from differing backgrounds,
  we need to do a lot of listening to discover how they are seeing the problem.

Alaska in February?

Elizabeth, Jim, me, Allison, Mandy

All my friends who travel in the winter were going south. Naturally. Seems the likely thing to do.

But I spent Valentine's Day with my sister and her family in Anchorage, thanks to special friends and family thinking of and then carrying out the idea.

Allison and Mandy Turnbull arranged for me to fly from Minneapolis to Seattle to Anchorage in order to surprise their mother, Elizabeth Jane, as a Valentine and early 40th anniversary present.

Man, was she surprised! What fun to astonish her by walking into her cancer treatment infusion room behind a bunch of red balloons.

Elizabeth Jane and Lee Joanne

FICTION WRITING --DEFINED



NY Times -1964 political ad

When I was a girl I had a favorite (78 rpm) record that told the story of "The One String Fiddle." The boy in the story wanted to win a contest with an original fiddle song he was composing. It had to be "all, or almost all, out'n [his] own head." He started with "Turkey in the Straw" but as he walked along listening to birds and streams and winds and other musical sounds around him, they all blended into his own creation--which won the contest, of course.

"all, or almost all, out'n my own head"

This defines, at least for me, what fiction is.
My novel TOO MUCH LEFT UNSAID is such a creation:

I started with some characters, based very loosely on people I know, but I invented wholesale the events of their lives. I read history books and newspapers and articles about world events and tied them in with the daily lives I was making up for my people. Some of the historical events I remember clearly, and I recall the feelings of celebration when good triumphed. I also recall my mourning at losses or defeats.
There is a real, historical setting that is the stage where my invented characters 'live' their lives . I imagine Mattie and Ron, Josh and Kathy, and the other people who stepped out of my head onto the page doing and feeling what I said they did and felt.

It's fiction, after all, but I hope when you read it you'll relate to their lives.

How would you define fiction? Leave me a comment and let me know.

Decluttering Vs. Organizing

One of my hobbies is reading about organizing. Notice, I didn't say organizing, just reading about it.

One of my favorite books is The Clutter Diet: The Skinny on Organizing Your Home and Taking Control of your Life. I have bought at least three copies to give away, and I have it on my Kindle for quick referencing. Lorie Marrero, the author, also has a web site, a weekly newsletter including a three minute video each week and a consulting service you can subscribe to. I love to read her and listen to her, because she reminds me that:

"'Good Enough' is good enough! Perfection is an unattainable goal...an illusion."

Yesterday I added to my Kindle two ebooks by Dana White:

Drowning in Clutter: Don't Grab a Floatie! Drain the Ocean!
and
28 days to hope for your home.

Huge insight here:

Decluttering and organizing are not the same thing.

In fact, you can't do both at the same time.
Seems that I should declutter first, and then organize only what is left afterwards.

I might even actually get both done with this new insight.

What about you? Maybe you knew this all along, but maybe this will help you, too. Leave a comment or send me a note to
 collinsleej@gmail.com

Dr. Juan Manuel DeLecuona

Dr. John

I have just returned from Augusta, Georgia, the memorial service for my son-in-law, Juan DeLecuona, my daughter Becky's husband. John was born in Havana, Cuba, in 1961. He and his mother came to the Uited States when he was six years old and settled in Staten Island. John was board certified in both psychiatry and neurology and touched many lives through his work and his life.

John and Becky met when he was a resident at Albert Einshein in the psychiatric emergency room of the North Central Bronx Hospital and she was a social work intern there. They married in June, 1989. The have two children, Lillian Isabel, born February 8, 2000, and Russell Manuel, born February 16, 2004.

Lillie wrote a tribute to her dad which was printed in the service bulletin. She gave me permission to quote some of it here.

"My dad and I had a special relationship. We told each other secrets and our worries. He taught me to see the beauty in everything. He gave me my passions of the arts and especially photography. He didn't smile much but when he talked about me his eyes sparkled and told what he really felt.  It is a relationship that I will never have with anyone else and will never be broken by anything, even death.
Death is a horrible thing. Life is something very precious and shouldn't be taken for granted, even when things look bleak. But he still lives on in our memories and is watching over us, right now, up in heaven playing the banjo."

It was good to celebrate the life of this dedicated man.

My life is more than what I have done

“Ask me whether what I have done is my life?”

-- from Let Your Life Speak by Parker Palmer  

I am fascinated with this quote, for we are all so quick to describe our lives in terms of our accomplishments. I am proud of many things that I have done, but they are not all of me.

 

 I have lived in many places making a home for my family.

 

I have raised children, taught children, nurtured children, mine and other people's.

 

I have gone to school, taught school, and taught teachers to teach school.

 

I have learned so much
          and forgotten so much of that.

 

 

Throughout my years in academia I would update my resume each year to assure my superiors and colleagues that I was worthy of my role. I submitted syllabi and evaluations from my students and peers so that committees could decide whether what I had done was worthy of promotion and recognition.

 

Then I retired and I remember thinking that at last I could put all that aside and just be me, not what I have done, but who I am. Now I am blogging to tell the world (and myself) who I am.
     It is a little bit scary.

 

What I have done is a large part of who I am,
       but it is not all.

Keep tuned to find out more about my self-discovery.
        Follow my blog and you may learn more about me- and about yourself  -in the process.