I wonder if I should start worrying...

First, I don't find myself up in arms against the Black Eyed Peas' video of Bebot, and now, I don't find myself all that upset about the upcoming new season of "Survivor: Cook Islands" which will divide contestants into four tribes based on race.

In her TV Column article entitled "Sagging 'Survivor' Plays the Race Card" in The Washington Post , author Lisa deMoraes makes clear that she expects audience reaction to be one of shock (to put it mildly). The sarcastic tone she uses to describe "The Early Shows" coverage of the show via interview with host, Jeff Probst, demonstrates her own attitude of dismay.

By no means is deMoraes the only one who isn't looking forward to the new season of "Survivor." Last Friday, several NYC officials rallied at City Hall as part of "a campaign urging CBS to pull the show because it could encourage racial division and promote negative typecasts" (Kugler "NYC officials want new 'Survivor' pulled").

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not so far gone as to buy into executive producer Mark Burnett's assertions that "maybe that taboo [of race] could disappear through" this new season of "Survivor," or that its "not racial at all."

I do, however, think there's something to look forward to in this new season. I mean, the show hasn't even started, and already there's been a lot of discussion about TV and race. (Despite the strength of her conviction against dividing tribes by race, a quick glance at other articles in The Washington Post by deMoraes doesn't readily reveal any prior focus on TV and race whatsoever.)

What's more, although problematic because of limitations of the labels for each tribe (white people, African-Americans, Asian-Americans, and Hispanic people), it is SO refreshing to hear discussions of race that go beyond a black/white binary.

I doubt that the show will be everything I'd want it to be, but it is a beginning of sorts. Maybe we'll eventually get to the point where we're discussion the other, long-standing, problematic racial elements of "Survivor"...umm...like the use of the terminology "tribe/tribes," or the countless times as "rewards" past survivor contestants have been treated to native rituals (remember such things as: survivors drinking fresh cow's blood, having the locals dance for survivors, etc.). Aside from issues of exploitative capitalism (as if this isn't an oxymoron), imperialist tourism, and exoticization of island cultures, there are so many other problematic racial issues related to "Survivor" beyond splitting the tribes by race--let's get to those discussions!

For more information, here's one website I found with a variety of links to various articles about "Survivor: Cook Islands"

Shades of Brown

Earlier this month a friend forwarded me a quick note asking if I had seen the music video to the Black Eyed Peas song, Bebot. In his opinion, the song is “obnoxious,” but having personal connections to the maker of the video, he was passing along the link to the video.

As I said in an earlier post, my music taste has come under some half-hearted ridicule by friends, so it’s not actually all that surprising that I hadn’t yet heard of Bebot, or the video. (To my credit, I had heard of the Black Eyed Peas before and knew that one of their members was Filipino, but that was pretty much the extent of my knowledge about the group or their music—except, of course, for knowing “Hey Mama” from all the iPod commercials.)

It was in this context that I first watched the video. Initially, my reactions included being glad that I was made aware of The Little Manila Foundation and their efforts to

advocate for the historic preservation of the Little Manila Historic Site in Stockton, California and provide education and leadership to revitalize our Filipina/o American community

I was also happy to see so many Filipino faces in the video, and frankly, to hear lyrics in Tagalog from a mainstream music group.

Compared to my home town of Daly City, in this DC I feel like I hardly hear any Tagalog (or Visayan or Illocano) anywhere, so in a very real way, it was refreshing just to hear it. And to see so many brown bodies...well, that was definitely welcome, too.


This is a tangent, but...
Speaking of brownness...I have to say that I continue to be amazed by how much people have been commenting on my brownness as of late. Apparently I’m so much browner now than what they last remember that they are compelled to comment on my coloring. I know that I’ve been getting a little more color this summer—I’ve been doing regular workouts in my housing complex’s outdoor pool and running outside, too—but I also know that I’m not as dark as I can get. (I’ve got to work on getting a picture of my “remarkably” brown self.)

I just can’t wrap my head around why people comment on my coloring. I mean, I understand why people say I look like I’ve lost weight—it’s supposed to be a compliment. But when they say I’m darker...? Are they expecting I’ll say that it’s because I’ve been on vacation lounging on some beach? If it’s supposed to be a compliment, how so? Or, are such comments merely manifestations of the continued privilege and dominance of whiteness/lightness?


But back to Bebot...

I also have to admit that when I heard the song that first time as I watched the video, I definitely imagined in my head kinging to it. (Maybe even at IDKE.8 Austin, TX)

Is it a problematic song in regards to its representation of women? Yeah.

But doesn’t a female-bodied immigrant, queer, Filipino king performing it in a white-dominated queer space change the boundaries, texture, and meaning of the song? Yeah, I think so.

Will I bring Phil I. Pinas out to do it...well, that remains to be seen…

Though I’d characterize my reactions to Bebot and its video as mildly positive, it’s been interesting to read all the discussion surrounding the Bebot video, mostly critiquing it. I can certainly see the points that these critiques raise, but I definitely don’t have the same fervor for speaking out against the video’s shortcomings. On one hand, I worry that this is a sign of my complacency with oppression. On the other hand, I feel confident that the Filipino American community is a vast and complex thing, and that there are many ways to see something, reflecting the different nuances of our varied lived realities and the oppressions and privileges therein. (Not that it has to be only one or the other of these things...)


To read some of what’s being said about the video check out:

Director’s statement by Patricio Ginelsa, as well as Ginelsa’s blog
Kid Hero’s Bebot site, as well as Kid Hero’s other projects
An Open Letter to Apl.de.Ap, Patricio Ginelsa/KidHeroes, and Xylophone Films
About Bebot, a Collective Review Blog

Summer’s End

Today is the last day before the first day of Fall classes. Even though I started working on campus last week, it’s really today that marks my summer’s end.

The campus is still relatively quiet…pockets of people here and there, but nothing like the throngs that will swarm the campus come Wednesday and Thursday. I visited the bookstores to make sure the texts I ordered for my class were in (they are) and to go on a small pre-semester tour—see which restaurants are still around, which have become something else, and to just acclimate myself to the campus and surrounding area once again.

In a way, with my summer ending, it’s fitting that I finished reading Ann Brashare’s Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series last week. You see, it’s in the summer that the magical pants come out of the closet and we join the four protagonists in their journeys and adventures, with each novel coming to an end as the summer in the story ends. I look forward to the January 2007 release of the fourth novel in the series, Forever in Blue.

In the mean time I wanted to take this moment to reflect on my summer…

It’s gone by so fast (then again, they always do), and while I didn’t spend as much time as I initially thought I might with various friends, I do have to say that this was easily the most social summer that I’ve spent in the DC area. I’ve been trying to get out of my shell a bit more, and have succeeded to a degree.

I can’t say that I’ve formed my own “sisterhood” per se, but I’ve definitely joined a fellowship and started to attach myself to communities. I hope that as the pace of the semester speeds up, I’ll be able to maintain these connections, as well as form new ones.

I don’t feel ready for a new year (then again, I almost never do). In the past it’s been because I haven’t liked change…but this time around it feels different—it’s not the CHANGE that I dread/fear, but rather the END that looms in the background, getting closer and closer that I want to stave off.

I’ve learned that not all changes lead to endings, but some certainly do. Okay, so endings can potentially engender beginnings, but at the moment that is hardly a comforting thought.

Maybe if I focused more on the endings I’m making, and on the beginnings I’m creating instead of the endings I’m running head-on into, and the beginnings I’m stumbling on I’d feel different…

In any case, having drawn some inspiration of late from The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, here are some of the moments from the novels that I was drawn to capture:

Brashares, Ann. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. New York: Delacorte Press, 2001.

(2) I could tell the pants hadn’t come to our lives because of tragedy. They’d just witnessed one of those regular but painful life transitions. That, it turns out, is The Way of the Pants.

(156) Routine always helped an unsettled mind.

(168) Single-minded to the point of recklessness.

(174) “What are you scared of?” The question got out of Tibby’s mouth before she meant to ask it.
Bailey thought. “I’m afraid of time,” she answered. She was brave, unflinching in the big Cyclops eye of the camera. There was nothing prissy or self-conscious about Bailey. “I mean, I’m afraid of not having enough time,” she clarified. “Not enough time to understand people, how they really are, or to be understood myself. I’m afraid of the quick judgments and mistakes that everybody makes. You can’t fix them without time. I’m afraid of seeing snapshots instead of movies.”

(174) Tibby was shaking her head.
“What?” Bailey asked.
“Nothing. Just that you surprise me every day,” Tibby said.
Bailey smiled at her. “I like that you let yourself be surprised.”

(207) She shivered. Her eyes were full. They dripped. From sadness, or strangeness, or love. They were the kind of tears that came when she was just too full. She needed to make a little room. She stared at the sky. It was bigger tonight. Tonight her thoughts roamed out into it, and like Diana had said, they didn’t find anything to bounce off. They just went and went until nothing felt real. Not even the thoughts. Not even thinking itself.”

(235) The forgetting and having to remember again was the very worst part.

(253) She smiled, both inside and out. She’d learned one thing in Santorini. She wasn’t like either of her parents or her sister, but she was just like her Bapi—proud, silent, fearful. Lucky for Bapi, he had found the courage once in his life to seize a chance at love from a person who knew how to give it.
Lena prayed on these two moons that she would find that same courage.”

(282) It was the first time in days she had felt that particular feeling of looking forward to something.

(293) “What happened in front of my friends felt real. What happened to me by myself felt partly dreamed, partly imagined, definitely shifted and warped by my own fears and wants. But who knows? Maybe there is more truth in how you feel than in what actually happens.”

Not all who wander are lost. J.R.R. Tolkien

Sometimes you’re the windshield; sometimes you’re the bug. Mark Knopfler

The problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem. Got that? Coach Brevin



Brashares, Ann. The Second Summer of the Sisterhood. New York: Delacorte Press, 2003.

(4) Before the Traveling Pants we didn’t know how to be together when we were apart. We didn’t realize that we are bigger and stronger and longer than the time we spend together. We learned that the first summer.

(187) She wondered what Perry and she wondered about her father. Tragedy brought some families together, maybe, but not hers. Her father never talked about what had happened. He never talked about the things that might lead to talking about what had happened. There were so many things they couldn’t talk about, they had stopped trying to talk about much of anything.

(248) Sometimes you just had to face it. You had to march right into the ugly middle, Tibby told herself. Otherwise you ended up flat against the wall, creeping fearfully around the edge your whole life.

There is no remedy for love but to love more. (Henry David Thoreau)



Brashares, Ann. Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood. New York: Delacorte Press, 2005.

(252) As a child, you were taught to see the world in geometric shapes and primary colors. It was if the adults needed to equip you with more accomplishments. (“Lena already knows her colors!”) Then you had to spend the rest of your life unlearning them. That was life, as near as Lena could tell. Making everything simple for the first ten years, which in turn made everything way more complicated for the subsequent seventy.

(253-254) The trick of drawing was leaving your feelings out, giving them the brutal boot. The deeper trick of drawing was inviting them back in, making nice with them at exactly the right moment, after you were sure your eyes really were working. Fighting and making up.
And so her feelings were coming back in, but they were a [end 253] different kind this time. They were guided by her eyes, rather than the other way around. Tentatively, she let them come. A good drawing was a record of your visual experience, but a beautiful drawing was a record of your feelings about that visual experience. You had to let them come back.

(290) What a pitiful waste she was. She was willing to give away, to throw away, the very best she had. For what? It was one thing to sacrifice yourself for a great cause. It was another to destroy yourself for a person who didn’t even want you. It was an act of self-immolation, a sacrifice nobody wanted, that did nobody any good. What could be more tragic than that?

Personal Records and the USA PATRIOT Act, or Spy on This!

I was highly amused earlier this summer when I got together face-to-face with a friendster friend of mine and she commented on numerous profile items of mine (e.g., hobbies & interests, favorite books, favorite movies, favorite music, favorite TV shows, etc.). Really, what she was doing was making fun of what I had listed--apparently my choices just didn't put me into the "cool" category. (She'd probably say the same of my blogger profile if she knew about it.)

*Shrug*

I told her she should *do* something about it, and to her credit, she did--she sent me home with a bunch of new music to listen to (Modest Mouse, Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah, Radiohead, and Raconteurs).

Since then I've been trying to further expand my horizons through my public library system, and I must say, it's been going quite well.

Library Borrowing Record

August 2006
Fiona Apple When the Pawn
Coldplay X & Y
Ani DiFranco So Much Shouting, So Much Laughter
Eurythmics Peace
Hanson Underneath
Jewel 0304
Jack Johnson On and On
K.D. Lang Invincible Summer
Monsoon Wedding Soundtrack
Stevie Nicks Rock a Little
Joan Osborne How Sweet It Is
Pearl Jam Pearl Jam
Pearl Jam Yield
Queen Latifah The Dana Owens Album
R.E.M. Automatic for the People
Damien Rice O
Simple Plan No Pads, No Helmets…Just Balls
Smashing Pumpkins Rotten Apples: Smashing Pumpkins Greatest Hits
Tegan and Sara So Jealous
Train For Me, It’s You
Train My Private Nation
U2 The Best of 1980-1990
U2 All That You Can’t Leave Behind
Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood Ann Brashares
The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants Ann Brashares
The Second Summer of the Sisterhood Ann Brashares
Yertle the Turtle and Other Stories Dr. Seuss
Bewitched
Ella Enchanted
Herbie Fully Loaded
Holes
Prime
The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants
Wimbledon

July 2006
Tori Amos Under the Pink
Barenaked Ladies Disc One: All Their Greatest Hits (1991-2001)
Dixie Chicks Top of the World Tour Live
Hilary Duff Most Wanted
Everclear Sparkle and Fade
Alicia Keys Songs in A Minor
School of Rock Soundtrack
Switchfoot The Beautiful Letdown
The Misfits James Howe
The Watcher James Howe
The Corpse Bride

May 2006
3 Doors Down Seventeen Days
Beck Guero
Shawn Colvin A Few Small Repairs
Shawn Colvin Whole New You
Counting Crows This Desert Life
Dave Matthews Band Listener Supported
Ani DiFranco Swing Set
Dixie Chicks Fly
Everything But the Girl Tempermental
Nelly Furtado Folklore
Macy Gray The Trouble With Being Myself
Hoobastank The Reason
Annie Lennox Bare
Lilith Fair: A Celebration of Women in Music (volume 3)
Madonna Confessions on a Dance Floor
Pet Shop Boys Nightlife
Music from the motion picture The Prince and Me
Radiohead Hail to the Thief
SmashMouth SmashMouth
Gwen Stefani Love. Angel. Music. Baby
The Very Best of Sting & the Police
Three Days Grace Three Days Grace
Kissing Kate Lauren Myracle
Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen
The Grace Lee Project
The West Wing (4th Season, discs 3 & 4)

I wonder what she, and others (like you, yeah, YOU, reading this posting) would say now?

But on a more serious note, this makes me think of Congress' failure to reform the USA PATRIOT Act. In particular, I'm thinking here of Section 215 "Access to records and other items under the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act," under which library borrowing records can come under the scrutiny of the FBI. (This is an explicit attack on our privacy rights, but hardly the only one. Check out my earlier posting about the deterioration of trans rights related to the REAL ID Act.)

I doubt that my borrowing records (well, not my public library records, anyhow) would be cause for suspicion with the FBI (although they might raise a few eyebrows elsewhere), but that's beside the point. How much surveillance are we willing to put up with? How much privacy are we willing to forfeit? Do we even know the extent to which we're being surveilled, and our privacies curtailed?

Sadly, I'd have to say that most of us don't realize how much privacy (and security) we've already lost in the very name of security.

And frankly, Section 215 isn't the only part of the USA PATRIOT Act that Congress failed to reform.

To read more about the USA PATRIOT Act and Protecting Privacy some links you can check out are:
Full text of the USA PATRIOT Act
ACLU's call to reform the Patriot Act
PEN American Center's Campaign for Core Freedoms
Wikipedia's entry on the USA PATRIOT Act

Happy Belated Blog Anniversary to Me

Two weeks ago, I really wanted to post a happy blog anniversary to myself…but I didn’t. I didn’t because I was worried that instead of posting a “silly” happy blog anniversary message to myself, I really *should* be posting about “more important things”—the 2006 transatlantic aircraft plot, the arrest of John Mark Karr for the murder of JonBenet Ramsey, or the peace plan to end the fighting between Israel and Hezbollah.

I’m finally realizing that though these things are important, and unquestionably post-worthy, I’m not solely responsible for such postings, nor are the things I do want to post about unworthy.

This made me think back to a wonderful story I read in the Washington Post about a young child who when asked to complete the sentence "I know it's silly, but I'm afraid of _____" responded by looking the questioner in the eye and saying, “The things I'm afraid of aren't silly."

I definitely didn’t start this blog to only write about things I thought I should be writing about…I did it to “claim a blog of my own.”

So, happy belated blog anniversary to me!

Word Cloud

Not a blogthing, but fun nevertheless, a "word cloud" of my blog from SnapShirts.com. (via Getaway, via L.Ho Show)

Once a Brat Always a Brat (?)

I hope not, but I definitely haven't done anything to prove otherwise lately...

I talked to my mom over the weekend, and she wants to know when I'll get done with classes this semester so she'll know when to expect me back "home" for Christmas and New Years. It seems that the plan is to go to the Philippines for New Years.

Sounds like a good time, right? Travel, vacation, visit family, etc. Most normal people would jump at the opportunity, but not me--of course I have to pitch a mini-fit and be all evasive with mom, hemming and hawing about not knowing if I can take the time off...

Excuses...no good excuses, really.

The plan is to travel to the Philippines because my dad wants to go...he hasn't been in the Philippines for Christmas or New Years for the last 27 years at least (and not because he, or my mom, haven't wanted to). They've spent so much of their lives sacrificing for their children--me--putting aside their own desires. Now, they're nearing their 70s, my dad is battling lymph node cancer, struggling through chemotherapy, and finally they're taking the initiative to make their wants known, while still including us kids...and all I can do is be an ungrateful, spoiled, brat. I should be ashamed of myself, and I am.

I've been wondering the past couple of days what my problem is...

It's scary to think of my dad asking for this, and my mom working so hard to make it happen because they've talked about it loads of times before, without it going anywhere, but this times feels different. I'm afraid that it's different because they know something about the prognosis of my dad's cancer that they aren't saying. The way my mom talked about my dad wanting to be in the Philippines for New Years, and wanting me there with them almost made it sound as if this just might be my dad's last New Year. I can't tell if this is just my over-active imagination at work, or something more real. And, judging from how much (or should I say how little) I've already gotten my parents to talk to me about the situation, I doubt I'll soon find out more.

I wish I knew how to talk to my parents...I wish they knew they could talk to me.

I think I'm also hesitant to travel to the Philippines because I just don't feel comfortable dealing with my sexuality in relationship to extended family. I haven't come out to any of them directly, and I don't know if my parents or brothers have ever said anything. The last time I traveled to the Philippines, however, it was with a woman who was my lover at the time, and she met my relatives, and was warmly welcomed by all. I don't think they're so clueless as to not have understood that we were together. Still, there's such a big difference between an open secret and outright openness.

Still, nothing justifies my being a brat. :(

Knowing may be half the battle, but it isn't nearly enough without action.

Regular but Painful Life Transitions

I could tell the pants hadn’t come to our lives because of tragedy. They’d just witnessed one of those regular but painful life transitions. That, it turns out, is The Way of the Pants. (Ann Brashares, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2)

Regular but painful life transitions...not only The Way of the Pants, but The Way of some much in life, really.

Since my youngest childhood memories, I have resisted change and transitions. Regardless of size I’ve always been terrified by changes, from the supposedly small changes my mother wreaked upon me when she would re-arrange the furniture while I was at school, to the larger change I was supposed to undergo when I was is the sixth grade and we packed up most of our possessions and had them shipped back to the Philippines where we were scheduled to join them shortly.

Some revel in the adventure of new things, but I’ve always taken refuge in routine and what’s familiar...better the devil you know than the one you don’t?

Perhaps I’m finally growing out of this longtime held fear, or at least finally facing it...

This summer seems to be full of transitions...friendships coming and going; some family ties weakening, others strengthening; new and old work environments...

I’m especially saddened by the departure of my current Starbucks manager. We’ve been working together for the last couple of years, and he’s someone I have grown to respect and absolutely enjoy working for and with. He always managed to encourage us to fulfill and, more so, exceed expectations while still fostering a fun work environment. What’s sad for those of us left behind, however, is good for him. He’s moving on to bigger (and hopefully better) things, professionally and personally. I wish all the best things for him!

Sometimes you’re the windshield; sometimes you’re the bug

Sometimes you’re the windshield; sometimes you’re the bug. Mark Knopfler qtd. in Ann Brashares’s The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

Yesterday, I was the windshield—literally.

It was a beautiful day, and I decided it was way past due that I take advantage of the many miles of trails in the area. I began at Daingerfield Island with the simple intention of taking a walk to get some exercise and take in some of the area sites. In my six years living in such close proximity to the Mount Vernon Trail, this was only my third ever time on it—and my very first time ever traveling more than a tenth of a mile on it.

I found walking the trail pleasant, and before long, had come upon and then eventually passed National Airport and all the folks amusedly sitting and watching the planes take off overhead. Next I passed the 14th Street Bridge, thinking of all the times I have used it to cross the Potomac River on my drive to school. I kept walking. I don’t know what quite came over me, but I fixed my eyes upon the Memorial Bridge (my route for most of my journeys into DC), and decided I’d go there. In the middle of the bridge, I paused to look over the water—over into Georgetown, and back at Northern Virginia. Then I headed for the Lincoln Memorial and the reflecting pool.

If it wasn’t for the fact that I was due at my boss’ going away party in the evening, I might have just kept walking. I definitely felt like I was having a moment like in Forest Gump when he decides to run, and just keeps running back and forth across the country. (Well, except that I was mostly walking, although I did jog on the way back to Daingerfield Island to try and minimize how late I would be to the goodbye party…who knew that it would take so long to get from Daingerfield to the Lincoln Memorial and back? Well, apparently I would have known if I had consulted a map first. As it turns out, one-way the trip is approximately 4.5 miles long, making a whopping 9 miles roundtrip for my leisurely afternoon walk!)

In any case, I loved every yard/meter of it! I didn’t even mind the two bugs that ended up careening into my glasses (hence my literal embodiment of a windshield). In fact, thinking about it in terms of Knopfler’s quotation above, I am actually quite proud to have spent my Saturday as a windshield: I was in motion, moving forward, taking myself to new places—all good things. Better yet, hopefully a good omen for the new school year about to begin.

Say is isn't so!

Back in a December 2005, I posted about my blogthing pizza personality. Recently, on one of my queer listservs, someone posted a link to quizilla testing which L Word character you are.

So, these things are supposed to be fun, right?

Well, but what about when you come across that...

Which L Word Character are you?

Jenny - You're...well...mixed up. Some see you as deep, other's as insane, and some may see you as innocent and pure (poor mislead people). You're currently so busy trying to figure out your feelings that you tend to completely forget everyone elses in the process. Now the good thing is you're creative; the bad thing is you probably could use some medication (and to be tested for STD's...quick!) Good luck.
Take this quiz!








Quizilla |
Join

| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

I've been disturbed ever since I took the quiz...but with many things, disturbed mainly because it's more true than I'd like to admit.

I definitely have some things to sort out!

[Keep in mind this is all based on my knowledge of Jenny in the first two seasons--I've still only seen two or three Season Three episodes. The good news is that I think I made a connection with folks this past week for regular L Word viewings come the start of Season 4. :)]

Commitment to Change Will Cost Us

This past Sunday's Catholic Mass Readings were as follows:

First Reading: Second Kings 4:42-44
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 145:10-11, 15-16, 17-18
Second Reading: Ephesians 4:1-6
Gospel: John 6:1-15

As far as their theme goes, they concentrate around the miracle Jesus performed in feeding thousands of people from just five barley loaves and two fish, with twelve baskets of fragments left over when all had their fill. How the priest, in his liturgy went from here to what struck a chord with me, I'm not quite sure...

What struck me in the Father's liturgy was when he said "commitment to change will cost us." He said it in a matter-of-fact tone, not begrudging the costs of change or suggesting any dangers of change, but rather pointing, with an air of urgency, that true commitment to change requires responsibility, dedication, and effort—including, but not limited to the personal level.

Just like last week, despite a change in priests, there were clear ties made to the fighting between Israel and Lebanon and continued hopes and prayers for peace. The Father’s point resonated with me beyond just this specific conflict. It really made me think about the ways in which I am (or not) living up to my desire for change—be it social justice, or more personal goals. Well, and it showed me that there is a world of difference and distance between a desire for something and a commitment to that same thing.

As important as desire is, I also know that I want more than just desire—I want results, and desires make for meager sustenance in the long run. (Don’t get me wrong, desires provide great initial boosts of excitement and energy…but I’m in this life for the long course, not the sprint.)

Of course, there are costs. Of course we should pay them…I mean, who really benefits from no taxes/tax cuts? (Okay, now I’m just dangerously bordering on beltway politics here, and the House’s attempt to couple a much needed hike in the federal minimum wage with a cut in estate taxes. More on beltway politics later.) For the matter at hand—commitment to change will cost us—it’s time to get serious about what change we want to bring about, and to get serious doing what needs to be done to make it happen.