Graduation Day

May 27, 2018May 27, 2018 / skidaz / Leave a comment

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“There’s a time for joy. There’s a time for tears. A time we’ll treasure through the years. We’ll remember always graduation day.”

On Thursday night, I had the honor of addressing graduates at two of our high schools. As I surveyed the audience, I saw both tears and an abundance of joy. I spoke about several students of the class of 2018, whom had overcome insurmountable odds to receive a diploma–a Congo refugee, who had been raped and fled to America with her baby. This senior mastered English in less than six months, worked, and went to school full time and earned a scholarship to nursing school. I spoke about a special education student who was a member of the golf and the tennis team and the concert band. I spoke about a male dancer who’s a character of the video game, So You Think You Can Dance, –yes, he’s that well-known, and a guy who invented a new guitar pedal, which will revolutionize modern music.

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When I reflect on my high school graduation–over 50 years ago, I remember how special it was for the families of many of my classmates, whose parents were immigrants. I remember the fabulous graduation parties with wonderful ethnic food. And I remember the brewing war in Viet Nam. While it was a joyous time, it was also a time for fear.

Last night, my neighbor (originally from England) asked, “Sue, what’s up with all this graduation bs? In England, high school graduation was expected. University graduation was cause for a celebration.”

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Now, I could have launched into a long oration about the history of American education and the symbolic, significance of high school graduation, but I refrained. For me, high school graduation is the first educational mile marker on the road of life. Yet, I’m dismayed it has been both marginalized and commercialized by such ludicrous traditions of preschool, kindergarten, sixth grade, and eighth grade graduations. Caps and gowns, limos, and parties ad nauseam for mere children? Why?

XYZ: Examine Your Zipper

December 17, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

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Many will recall the childhood comment: XYZ. Usually, it was made to a boy, who emerged from the lavatory after those stupid, elementary school bathroom breaks. Perhaps, you’ve experienced them, where the teacher lined up his/her class at the appointed hour and marched them down the hall. I referred to this practice as pee on demand.

Though invented in 1851, zippers weren’t used in clothing until the 1930’s. In the 1937, Battle of Fly, the zipper was declared winner over buttons. This new tailoring idea in men’s trousers promised to prevent the possibility of embarrassment.

In recent weeks XYZ has morphed into headline stories, graphic dalliances of sexual harassment, even rape, have been exposed. Certainly, rumors of the “Hollywood casting couch” have been around for years, but both men and women victims remained silent. Now, it seems to be a pervasive epidemic propagated by those in power over the powerless. Further, fueled by fear of losing a starring role, a job, or even getting a good grade in a college course.

Finally, victims found their voice. Unnamed predators are probably suffering from sleepless nights and wobbly knees. And thankfully, this week voters rejected a known creep, who advertised himself as an upright, moral man.

My advice to the powerful is simply: XYZ. None of your employees, nor teenagers shopping at the mall are interested in your sausage. And in this case, it doesn’t pay to advertise.

I Beg Your Pardon, Mr. President

August 27, 2017August 28, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

The events of the last few weeks have left me thunderstruck. I have zero tolerance for malicious hate. Further, I have zero tolerance for megalomaniacs–folks consumed with wealth,power, and omnipotence. Folks, who don’t play by societal rules, for they are above the law.

I’ve witnessed first hand the ascension of the former Sheriff. Over time, he morphed into a madman, fueled by a large campaign chest and national media attention. He bragged about his inmates wearing pink underwear, eating green bologna, and sleeping in tents in Phoenix summers. Now, anybody who has taken a criminal justice course knows rehabilitation or habilitation is not accomplished through humiliation.

As time went on, he focused on Latinos. His deputies routinely stopped brownish, innocent American citizens. He spent a million investigating President Obama’s birth certificate. He staged an assassination attempt against himself. Clearly, he was hell-bent on furthering his national image. Over and over, he was accused of racial profiling, defiance of the law, and ignoring court orders. He thumbed his nose and proclaimed, “I’m just upholding the law.”

I could cite countless examples of his grandstanding, like the $92 million Maricopa County wasted on his defense in the racial profiling case. Months ago, he was found guilty and awaited sentencing. He asked the President to pardon him. Friday afternoon, it was delivered. He said he and his wife planned to celebrate with spaghetti, calamari, and red wine at their favorite Italian restaurant. “I’m not through with politics; I have a lot to offer.” After 24 years as sheriff and at 85-years-old, that seems preposterous! But I’ve never danced in the spotlight. Some egos must not die until their last breath.

Mr. President, while I find your acceptance of proven, institutional racism unconscionable, I abhor your pardon of a man who failed to investigate hundreds of sex abuse cases, many of which involved children. Guess rape or sexual molestation didn’t feed the world’s toughest sheriff’s megalomania.