Thursday, March 21, 2019

Prompt #50--What's Over the Hill?

Over the hill--the term thrown around to describe those turning 50. I never really thought much about it until time starting moving at warp speed toward this "milestone." Funny thing is, I am not bothered about it at all. It's just a number, and we all know I'm not a numbers kind of girl.

So, I'd rather focus on the real milestone--our 50th prompt as a writing circle! Like the decades of our lives, those 50 prompts have produced fantastic things filled with every sort of emotion and feeling. Thousands of words--carefully chosen as we crafted our pieces. I feel honored to be given the opportunity to chose this special prompt, but also a little anxious. I want to make sure it is something worthy, interesting, and different. 

And, then my mind went back to hills, and I began wondering what symbolism they have in literature. I stumbled upon a Hemingway story, "Hills Like White Elephants," a story dripping with symbolism and weight despite the succinct language and lack of description. One I have never read. One I instantly fell in love with. 

An idea was born.

For this prompt, use hills (and valleys if you want) as symbolism in a poem, short story, memoir, personal essay, lyrics, or any genre you choose. To help you get started:
  • Think about important events in your life where hills were involved.
  • Read the Hemingway story and/or research other stories, poems, movies, or songs that incorporate hills. 
  • Look up images of hills to get some inspiration. 
I can't wait to find out what's over, under, on top, and surrounding your hills!

Tuesday, March 19, 2019

Coya Didn't Come Home

Response to Prompt #49 Historically Speaking

Another interesting creative journey.

This began when I read a story called "Princess Lily" which caused me to think of all the messages I received as a child about what it meant to be a woman. I then found a guide online, published in 1955, called "The Good Housewife Guide."  Must be seen to be believed!

https://www.littlethings.com/1950s-good-housewife-guide/

I was determined to write a story, so started thinking of who the main character could be, and what the conflict was. Over the course of several days, I came across several ideas. Finally one seemed to stick. I named the characters. Wrote the first line. Even had a title for the story: "Message Received."

Yet, it still didn't work.

Then I thought, well, maybe it isn't a story. Maybe it is a poem. I went back and Googled "Women's lives in the 1950's," and this is when I found Coya.  Immediately I knew it was to be a eulogy poem -- Coya telling her story.  And throughout this process I kept thinking: things have changed...but not enough.  I think a lot of what she went through women still face today -- big time.


Rep. Coya Knutson shown shopping in 1955 following her demand to know why housewives are saddled with high grocery bills while farm income continues to drop.


Coya Gjesdal Kuntson

Say that I was born the child of Norwegian immigrant farmers.
That I worked on the farm, earned a degree, went to Julliard for a short time.
Say that I married Andy Knutson, a farm hand, moved to Minnesota.
We operated a hotel and grain farm and adopted 8-year-old Terry.

When you tell my story, say that it was my community activism that got me started in politics.
I was a member of the Democratic-Farmer-Labor (DFL) Party.
I served on many boards, and made it to the Minnesota House of Representatives.
I faced the wrath of my husband, who resented my career, and dealt with his alcoholism.

Remember to tell them that I ran for the U.S. House against the wishes of the DFL party, who wanted me to stay at the state level.
I was not one to bend to the will of men or let anyone else be my master.
I took on a six-time incumbent, campaigning tirelessly, 25,000 miles in my car, and delivered a dozen speeches a day, all without the endorsement of the DFL.
I favored farm supports, and was disgusted at the high price levels for poultry, eggs, and milk.
I spoke against President Eisenhower and the Secretary of Agriculture for the plans they pushed that hurt farmers.

On January 3, 1955 I became the first Congresswoman from the state of Minnesota.
I continued to fight for the farmers, for export of our yields, and when recession hit, questioned our priorities, our focus on Sputnik.
Don’t forget I said that All this talk about ‘conquering outer space’ is just jibberish if Congress and the administration do nothing about conquering the vast inner space in the heart of young Americans – from the family farm, or whatever their origin – who have lost their jobs.
Our priorities had to be straight.
If we want to care about education, let us create loan programs for needy students.
Scholars need dollars.
I contributed ideas for college guidance programs, educational television, vocational schools, and graduate fellowships.

When you tell my story, say I was popular and effective, that one congressman said he “wouldn’t swap me for a one-half dozen men,”
But that the DFL leadership still did not want me in this position.
They were angry when in 1956 I put my support behind Senator Kefaluver for president, when they wanted Adlai Stevenson.
I held my position anyway, beating back my opponent.

Remember to tell them that by 1958 the problems mushroomed.
The DFL conspired with my husband to subvert my career.
They wrote a letter attributed to him, “Coya Come Home,” paid him to sign it, and made national headlines.
They publicized marital problems and hinted I was having an affair.
I was not the good housewife who put her husband before all else.
My work was important to me, and to the country.
Still, there were many who felt I didn’t know my place, stepped on too many toes, despite all the good I contributed.

Say that I believed my family life was a personal matter.
I would not speak of it. I was busy.
I made it through the primaries.
But then I was up against a self-proclaimed “family man,” who brought his wife and son to events.
“A Big Man for a Man-Sized Job” was his slogan.
In contrast, my husband was nowhere to be seen.
My defeat came, caused by the exploitation of my family life.

I tried again, but my political life in Minnesota was over.
President Kennedy appointed me as liaison officer in the Office of Civil Defense, where I stayed until 1970.
Andy and I divorced.
I ran for office again, to no avail.
After retirement, I helped my son raise my grandchildren.
I passed away at age 82.

Remember to say I was not a typical 1950’s woman.
I saw need beyond keeping a house and lighting a fire for my husband.
I cared about people, and wanted to use my voice.
There was a price to pay, and it was worth it.
When you tell my story, remember to include the words I spoke many times, 
my advice to all young women everywhere:
Just strike out.
Go on out and try your wings.
That’s what I did.








Saturday, March 16, 2019

Biosphere

Response to Prompt #49: Historically Speaking

I was born in 1973. A stroll back on the timeline to this point in history reads a bit like a rendition of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire."Aside from my entry into the world, a lot happened that year.

In brief, among other things, 1973 was the year of Roe v. Wade, the start of the Watergate hearings, the OPEC Oil Embargo, and the signing of the Paris Peace Accords. Egypt and Syria joined forces to attack Israel on the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, beginning the Yom Kippur War. The last U.S. soldier left Vietnam three days after my birthday. Secretariat won the Triple Crown, the Sears Tower was completed, and the famous Battle of the Sexes tennis match was played between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs. In entertainment, The Godfather won the Academy Award for best picture and Pink Floyd's album Dark Side of the Moon was released. On the actual day of my birth, March 26, 1973, women were admitted to the London Stock Exchange for the first time and the soap opera Young and the Restless debuted.

I thought about selecting the Yom Kippur War as the subject of my piece. After all I was just in Israel four months ago, and I learned quite a bit about the rich and relatively recent history of the country of Israel. I find it fascinating to consider the juxtaposition of the ancient land of Israel and the country of Israel; the same land with two histories. But I decided to go in another direction.

Few things are as earth shattering as my birth or the debut of the fascinating storylines about the Newmans and the Abbotts of "Y&R," so I elected to focus on my birth year over my birthdate.

In addition to Roe v. Wade, another piece of legislation was passed. The Endangered Species Act of 1973 was signed into law by President Nixon with the purpose of preventing extinction, recovering imperiled plants and animals, and protecting ecosystems. Though it evolved from the Endangered Species Preservation Act of 1966, in 1973 Congress worked to expand the reach of the protective act worldwide. The U.S. led 80 nations in the signing of an international agreement about the trade, treatment, and protection of plants and animals.
West Indian Manatee- Threatened Species 

It's no secret I'm a lover of nature and living things. I can't help but think it's kind of cool this piece of legislation was signed into the books the year I was born. It's also a reminder that as a modern people, our love and respect for the natural world is recent. (Though I know the care of the natural world has always been a part of the lives of indigenous and native peoples throughout the world.)

Biosphere

No matter how small,
each being has a place
the circle of life, as they say,
is not flat, it is a sphere,
an orb of robust working systems
some smaller than a pinprick
difficult to imagine,
others large enough to see
each equally essential
Dare to remove one in a way
nature never intended
and rue the day
when the systems break down
the parts no longer replaceable
the jobs no longer fillable
Everything is replaceable?

Sunday, March 10, 2019

Give Me Some Space

My response to Prompt #49, Historically Speaking.

I entered the world on an uneventful day in June, 1969. Since no earth-shattering events occurred on the 14th of that month, I decided to focus on the year--one I know was pivotal in many ways. Imagine my surprise and delight to discover my all-time favorite female author and sage guru, Maya Angelou published her iconic I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. But, in an effort to not be predictable, I dug a little deeper. My deep admiration for Angelou is well established, and I've read her autobiography so many times, I think I could recite it. I hear her begging me to reach beyond her. 

Spread your wings, she whispers. How can I ignore that plea?

Some pretty cool music was released by Deep Purple, The Stones, David Bowie, The Bee Gees, Elvis, Led Zeppelin, and Genesis, but I was too busy listening to lullabies that year to understand the impact of all that. 

I keep searching. 

Hilary Rodham graduated from high school that year. The National Women's Hall of Fame opened. Seedy political events. Protests. War. Again, all interesting signs of the time, but nothing jumped off the page as the thing I needed to write about. And, then it hit me: space exploration.

1969 was the beginning of an era, the year of the Apollo 11 mission. Man's first step onto a surface that was rumored to be made of cheese. A dark and strange place where that rascally rabbit, Bugs Bunny first encountered Marvin the Martian and created a little explosive havoc while he was there (watch here for a refresher). 

Beyond the space race and the Cold War with Russia that provided an anxiety-ridden childhood, I wonder what my childhood would have been like in the absence of America's quest to explore and understand space. I grew up in a strange and wonderful time--a mix of new discoveries and invention and social change--some exciting, some terrifying. My parents, however, kept my world pretty narrow. We believed in God, not science. We weren't looking to disprove the theory that Earth was created with the stroke of the hand of one Supreme Being. The Big Bang was a conspiracy theory--much like the one that claims we never put a man on the moon--to lead mankind astray. We didn't listen to all the cool music released in 1969; they much preferred the 50's jams of their youth. The time before America began to lose its way. 

I guess what I really wonder is how my world would have been different if I was given the space to explore my options, not just be told I had to buy into a set belief system. My quest was always to give my children--and myself--that space, even though it has produced some guilt and even angst at times. 

What I've come to realize is I actually find my own version of God in that space, a version that makes more sense to me. And, my exploration isn't even close to being grounded. Sometimes it terrifies me to reach out into places unknown, but the discoveries are always worth the risk. 

Give Me Some Space

Give me some space, 
some room to explore the 
outer reaches of my mind
without always dictating 
what I "should" discover. 

Allow me some leeway,
some freedom to stretch beyond
the prefixed menu of options
that suits your tastes
but are too bitter for mine. 

Permit me to probe 
the vastness of possibilities,
unrestrained by the beliefs, 
the biases of those 
who came before me.

Give me some space,
some room to explore the 
outer reaches of the universe
without worrying about 
what I might uncover.