Passion for the Possible

Today my family will bury my grandma, subject of my most popular blog post: What Planned Parenthood means to my 92 year old grandmother.

In eulogizing her last night, I talked about what I learned from her.

Fairness for workers: Wife of a UAW member-Alcoa metalworker, Grandma was an ardent supporters of unions. She didn't believe that corporate executives or their political cronies would protect "the working man," which for her included women, so workers had to stick together.

Racial and ethnic equality: She didn't like how black kids were treated when they started coming to the neighborhood pool years ago, and she didn't understand fighting between groups of European immigrants. Her husband and mother were rude to my father when he was dating my mom because he was "guinea" (Italian), but Grandma was always kind to him. Years later when challenged my grandfather on his prejudice toward my dad, she took my side.

Gay equality: I remember how angry she was about the 1992 Colorado vote to prohibit civil rights protections for LGBT people. She said, "These people aren't bothering anyone. Just leave them alone!" Later, when she learned that my cousin is gay, she admitted she didn't fully understand these sorts of things since her generation never talked about them, but she had no problem with it. End of discussion.

Voting: She was born in 1918, a year and a half before women could vote in the United States. From the age of 21 on, she proudly never missed a single election. She had no patience for people who didn't vote, and she resisted switching to an absentee ballot in her later years because she was so glad to go vote in person. One of her favorite movies was Iron Jawed Angels.

Women's rights: Excited by the many advances women made in her lifetime, she burst with pride when I became the first in the family to graduate from college, and she loved seeing her granddaughters get educations, develop careers and be independent. When I called to say I was moving to Europe, she said "Oh thank God! I thought you were going to say you were getting married." Not one to express affection, she was so moved by me calling her from a reproductive rights march on the National Mall so she could hear the crowd that for the first time she told me she loved me.

Schools: While seniors have a reputation of voting against school tax levies, she always voted for them, even though her kids went to Catholic school. Always. She said it was everyone's responsibility.

Generosity: Grandma gave to charities that mattered to her, but a few people in my family, myself included, were given checks to pass along to someone we'd mentioned was having a rough time. In my case it was a check for a homeless mother I knew who'd just lost a newborn to SIDS. She never drew attention to her giving. She just did it.

Fun: Growing up, Grandma was an avid tennis player, swimmer and runner. She ran so fast in her blue uniform that her friends called her "Flaming Blue," a name she gave her fantasy football team in her 80s. She loved watching baseball, but little pleased her more than a Sunday with three football games to watch from lunchtime til bedtime. And if you called her mid-game, she'd refuse to talk until halftime.

She was quite straightlaced in many ways, but she had a mischievous side. She liked when I'd call her with jokes, but she liked the bawdy ones most of all. When my cousin and I called her from an Indians baseball game she was watching on TV, she said to flash the cameras so we'd get on TV. And in this last year, she flirted with her "boyfriends," men who worked at her nursing home. When she was like this, she got a wonderful twinkle in her eye.

What does football and being flirty have to do with social justice? Plenty. Grandma had time for the serious things in life, but she also loved the play and humor that makes life fun.

And that's what I'll remember about her most of all. A popular quote attributed to a headstone in Ireland goes “Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.”

While I'm terribly sad that she's gone, I'll always cherish that joyful, mischievous twinkle.

Well, he's done it again. Pat Buchanan has said something racist, and now the news is full of debates about whether or not it's ok to call a black man, in this case our president, "boy."

I'm finding some people's professed ignorance about the term baffling, but what's especially troubling is the anger that comes up among whites when they don't understand why a term is wrong.

Here's the thing. If millions of people who are the collective target of a word say it's demeaning, and that it's been a part of pain and suffering for generations, that should be all anyone has to hear.

So many whites get mad that the N-word is off limits to them even though some African Americans use it. But where's the anger at racism itself? If not in whatever case is all over TV screens at the moment, then at the incidents that happen each day, and at our nation's shameful past?

If there was, even once, a real outcry against a racist incident by millions of whites, that would go a long way toward bridging the divide in our country. If we collectively would say, in some manner, that our fellow citizens matter to us, we'd see the beginning of change.

For now, though, the power of racism is all too alive and well. The Buchanan defenders were surely the same folks who defended Don Imus a few years ago when the radio talk show host called African American women basketball players "nappy headed hos." In the words of Eugene Robinson of the Washington Post: "The First Amendment notwithstanding, it has always been the case that some speech has been off-limits to some people. I remember a time when black people couldn't say 'I'd like to vote, please.' Now, white people can't say 'nappy-headed hos.' You'll survive."

A far from complete list, in no particular order:
1. Rosita and her partner having me witness their wills since they needed some form of legal protection as a couple who can't marry.
   
2. Jen avoiding using her fiancee's name while interviewing by phone for a job in another city despite needing to discuss the move for her fiancee's studies.
   
3. Shelley carefully disguising written materials she was sending to lesbians in countries hostile to LGBT people to avoid endangering these women.
   
4. Steve being afraid to walk home each night for fear of being attacked.
   
5. Nancy not being able to be on her girlfriend's health insurance.
   
6. Jennifer's family rejecting her.
   
7. Larry saying he'd used his military training to protect himself against gay bashing attacks.
   
8. Coworkers who've looked anxious when first mentioning to me that they're gay.
   
9. Frank enduring years of turmoil, not being able to accept himself as a gay man until his 50's.
   
10. Brian telling me about the rose from a romantic high school boyfriend, adding that "of course I gave it back to him before I went into the house."
    
11. Seeing how many lesbians at the UN Conference on Women in Beijing were the driving force behind initiatives helping women of all walks of life, yet hearing some women insist "we don't have lesbians in our countries."
    
12. Cousin Laura
    

When is moving back to your hometown newsworthy? When that town is in the Rust Belt, which has not only lost industrial jobs but educated professionals like myself who sought opportunity elsewhere.

I'm a "boomerang" -- someone who moves away and then comes back, which in my case was after nearly 17 years in Geneva, Switzerland, New York City and Washington, DC. Boomerangs are key to depressed areas regaining their economic and cultural strength. We know our home cities well but bring back new ideas, skills and experience.

Cleveland's exciting mix of community-building initiatives drew me back. The Gordon Square Arts District, where I'm volunteering my time, has garnered national media attention for using the arts to apply "economic shock paddles" to a struggling area. Others include Ingenuity Fest's unique blend of the arts and a gritty but beautiful location, a myriad of sustainable urban agriculture projects like Community Greenhouse Partners, and a community development corporation model that is studied across the nation.

Now Clevelanders are working to draw more people like me back to affordable living costs, a growing healthcare sector, one of the nation's best metropolitan park systems, stellar arts institutions like the world famous Cleveland Orchestra, some of the best libraries in the US, and rich mix of ethnic cultures -- complete with the restaurants and markets that go with them.

I participated in the recent Global Cleveland Summit, which kicked off an initiative to draw "boomerangs" and international newcomers to Cleveland to revitalize our city and take it in new directions. I talked with a public radio reporter about why I'm back: Northeast Ohio Tries to Bring Back the Rust Belt Refugees / ideastream - Northeast Ohio Public Radio, Television and Multiple Media

NOTE: If you've boomeranged back to Cleveland, drop me a line. I'm planning a gathering to celebrate our return and to share our experiences.

Cleveland news channels 19/43 interviewed me about using Facebook and Twitter to help defeat S.B. 5, a bill to reduce or end collective bargaining for Ohio's public workers. I've been using both platforms, but especially Twitter, to get the word out about organizing and to live tweet from protests. (Station runs a short ad before the report begins.)

1. My father's union job provided my family with the basics: a modest but nice house in a decent school district, health insurance, and paid time off so we could spend time together. Even as a kid, I knew the union was there to help us.
2. Having worked for two unions, I've seen how many workers address safety problems through collective bargaining, from flight attendants to teachers to nurses. At a recent protest of Ohio's S.B. 5 bill to eliminate collective bargaining for public employees, one firefighter's sign said, "Don't make my job more dangerous than it already is."
3. I've seen the shenanigans companies pull trying to keep unions out. When I worked for Borders, staff had to watch an anti-union video, and store managers were trained by an expensive union-busting firm. Managers warned other stores in the area if there seemed to be a troublemaker among the staff or customers. 
4. In working on human rights issues internationally, I've seen how respect for worker's rights are a barometer for a country's respect for human rights. The right to organize is enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights for a reason.
5. Unions are a check on unfettered corporate power, something our country needs now even more ever.
6. When I lived in Europe, I saw what strong union membership means. My friends and colleagues from many countries, including ones outside Europe, were horrified by the level of US poverty, our pathetic family leave policies (worse than in many developing nations), our lack of vacation time, our low minimum wage, and our lack of health insurance. A high level of union membership goes hand in hand with a better standard of living for everyone.

Dr. King said that "the Labor Movement was the principal force that transformed misery & despair into hope and progress." It's time to protect and re-energize that force. Whether we're union members or not, we need take action for our country's union workers.

My grandmother came into this world in 1918, before American women had the vote. She has seen a lot of change over the years, and unlike some older people, she's not terribly nostalgic. There are good things she misses, but also bad things she's happily left behind. What's at the top of her "good riddance" list? The lack of reproductive rights for women.

Grandma was raised by a mother who did things women weren't supposed to, like smoking and driving. She was an athlete, loving every minute she could get of track, tennis and swimming. She would take the streetcar to downtown Cleveland to see vaudeville shows and movies. She had an enormous amount of freedom for a young girl.

Once she married her childhood sweetheart, however, that freedom disappeared. She had three children in four years. She loved her kids, but not being able to plan the number or timing of her children was hard on her. She's told me that once she was out with her three little girls, and a woman from Planned Parenthood approached her to talk. She really wanted to hear what the woman had to say, but as a "good Catholic" wouldn't talk to her.

Years later, things are different. You will not find a more passionate supporter of reproductive rights for women. I remember calling her from the 2004 March for Women's Lives on the National Mall so she could hear the crowd. My normally reserved grandmother sounded emotional. She wished she could be there with us all.

So after today's vote in the House to cut funds for Planned Parenthood programs that don't even include abortion, I don't look forward to telling her what's happening in Washington. My grandmother may be 92, but she's as clear as ever, and she's going to be angry.

But it's not too late to save the funding as the bill must go to the Senate. Join me in standing with Planned Parenthood. No woman in 2011 should have the same struggle my grandmother did back in World War II.

Update: My grandmother died last Thursday. Healthy to the end, she went quietly in her sleep. She'd been pleased to hear about this blog post and that it was my most popular, having been promoted online by the Detroit Free Press and by Planned Parenthood. I have added a new post about her: In memoriam: What my Midwestern housewife grandmother taught me about social justice. I'll miss her like crazy, but I'm so grateful to have had her in my life. -- Tracy, September 22, 2011