Monthly Archives: September 2010

Mixed Messages

So there I was yesterday afternoon at Planet Fitness, PIPin’ out (Pedaling in Place), working up a sweat and feeling good for having gone vegetarian the past few days (thanks to my niece with whom I stayed), and gazing up at the multiple TV screens arrayed before me. There was Dr. OZ, the health guru created by the female Big “O”, expounding on the dangers of fat, while right next to Dr. Oz on the adjacent screen, was a bright, colorful commercial touting the wonderfulness of a Papa John’s Pizza.

Mixed messages! Aaarghh! And we’re smack dab in the middle of the most mixed message season of the year – pre-election posturing by folks who seemingly will to say anything to get or keep their jobs. What to do?
One can only hope and pray that the male Big “O” means it when he acknowledges that our public education system is broken. Hopefully more than the first president Bush (# “41”) meant it when he said he wanted to be known as the “Education President”… or when #42 touted “Education Reform” by investing more in schools and demanding more from them, or when #43 pushed to insure that No child would be Left Behind.”

“The world cares very little about what a man or woman knows; it is what the man or woman is able to do that counts.” Booker T. said that a century ago, and it’s as true today.

Experience shows that the best intentions of politicians of every stripe tend to go nowhere. Those in power may “point with pride” while those out of power may “view with alarm.” But at bottom, not much will happen until the individual accepts and embraces the sparks of encouragement tendered by those who care to be better. Ultimately, he or she must take charge of his or her own character, education, and opportunity.

The Exact Moment I became an American (rev.)

The Booker T. Washington Society

By Ronald Court (nee, Courtemanche)

In just two days on September 11, 2010 I will observe the exact moment I realized I was an American and not a multi-hyphenated French-Canadian-American whose grandparents came down from Quebec in search of a living-any living.

It was 11:35am on that fateful day nine years ago in 2001. I had been teaching at Champlain College but as the planes stuck the towers, classes were cancelled. I drove home, but found myself turning off toward the local flag shop. As the realization of what happened set in, that America, our country… my country, me was attacked. I heard myself declare, “I am an American.” I am not French-Canadian. I am an American … of French-Canadian descent.

Today, it makes me ponder why some Americans descended from several generations of American-born ancestors still refer to themselves as African-Americans.

Sure, there’s an obvious answer. But can you tell me who the real African-American in this picture is?

(Hint: Actress Charleze Theron (above) was born in South Africa; Will Smith in Philadelphia.)