What do you do for an encore?

 You are ten years old. You have two homes equipped with pools and tennis courts and gyms.. You have never had a vacation where you were not chronically entertained. There is tennis and swimming and soccer and ballet. There is skiing in the Rockies, and you have been to Europe several times. When the weekend arrives, there are more classes, endless playdates. You don't know what it means to play alone, have no plans, be bored.

A friend of mine who teaches in school knows so many clones of this child; she teaches them. She thinks about her own child; she is a single parent without unlimited resources.  It is not the experience of her child, who sometimes waits for her at the gym while she takes a class. He is sometimes bored, but he is also resourceful. Her experience of raising a child is so different then the students she teaches. She knows it is okay to be bored and figure it out. Vacation is not always a signal to go away. 

She is raising a resilient, resourceful child who knows life is sometimes (often) about doing nothing and figuring it out. LESS IS MORE, but affluent parents sometimes just don't get it. The problem with chronic entertainment and extravagance is that is what will be expected in adulthood. There is nothing to grow into. There is no world to be discovered, since these children have done it all.

What do you do for an encore when you have done it all?  Of course, there are always more exotic places to travel to at twenty and thirty and beyond, but here is something to be said about the discovery of the world you never knew as a child because your family did not have the time or resources. You can grow into an adult who has a whole, wide world in front of you. You can be creative because you have had unlimited time to dapple in the arts. There is a lot to do as an encore. Including doing absolutely nothing and all, aside from, perhaps, being a good person.

Politics, 2023

 Why is Marjorie Taylor Greene on the cover on the NEW YORK TIMES magazine section? What has she done, except espouse lies and wildly insane conspiracy theories? Why do I wake up every day to the bleak news that the Republicans may take the house and senate? Why do I have to hear, first thing in the morning, that the Republican agenda is:

1. Make "Don't Say Gay" a federal law (De Santis, haven't you done enough damage to your state?)

2. Make an abortion ban federal (hey, I live in New York. Leave my state alone. Leave any sanctuary state alone or all your talk is blatant hypocrisy: "Leave it to the states."

3.Impeach Joe Biden. Seriously? 

For a president who has done more to help this suffering nation; has passed more bi-partisan laws; who continues to speak for "every man and woman" are you really going after him for possible crimes of his son?

Pardon me, why, then, are Trump's children not behind bars? And Trump?

Our country has gone so backwards and we are not stopping on this downward spiral. The worst of it, though, is the media is NOT helping. They are constantly giving a voice to insanity, so instead of quieting the "crazies" they are making them credible.

This is not a credible world, the world of January 6th, conspiracy theorists, diminishment of the rights of citizens to vote, to practice their gender and love of choice, to pray to whomever God they choose.

This is a world of insanity. And the media does not help by giving the "crazies" front and center stage. I just want them to go away. I PRAY fervently the next election brings fair and decent people to the forefront, that the media stops these scare messages, which only discourage people from voting.

WISTERIA AND WEEDS

 I have just finished a young adult novel-in-verse, WISTERIA AND WEEDS, with Ukrainian poet Vasyl Makhno, and now it is about to go into the world, and hopefully find a home in a publishing house which appreciates not only the art, but the weight of this situation. Daily I wake up to the news-a bombing, a drone strike. I see thousands of displaced people fleeing their homes and seeking shelter. And though we, as Americans, are doing something, it feels insufficient, the way it once did during World War 11. Now Putin is threatening Nuclear War. What would this mean in Ukraine and the rest of the world? How can he mercilessly make these threats, while he continues to bomb, playgrounds, hospitals, schools. This war, like any war, is an ugly one, and innocent civilians are left without homes, food, shelter. When I started this book, I felt hopeful--how long could this war possibly last? Now it is almost a year, and it seems to be accelerating. For those in power, it is never enough, and it fills me with deep-seated despair. And what about the people there? What does the rest of the world intend to do about this situation--watch and walk away, while innocent people die?

Prayers for What??

 

 

                                                     

 

 

The Supreme Court has recently Roe V.Wade, a right which has been precedent for almost fifty years. As I contemplate the bleak outcome—a world where over half of the country will enact draconian laws which will enable them to prohibit a woman’s right to a safe abortion, I am filled with grief and rage. Mind you, the focus is NOT on the physical and mental well-being of the woman, but on the fact that she is “killing a fetus.” The fact that the fetus is not yet a person is irrelevant. So is the fact that regardless of the health of the fetus; if the fetus has physical or genetic disorders; regardless of the health of the woman; if the woman has been raped or is a victim of incest, she must still carry that baby to term—because, so they say—it is a life. There is zero compassion, when this decision is made, about the countless children born, but not desired, to a world that does not welcome them. Many parents do not have the finances or resources to support these children, nor do they want to be reminded that this child is the end result of a horrific rape. Justice Amy Comey Barrett says, “Leave that child at a police station or a hospital. The infant will find a home.”

 

Really? How? In impoverished communities where parents cannot support their children they already have, how can they provide a home for yet another? What life is in store for the newborn child born into poverty when the state and federal government continue to strip away all safety nets? Without these anchors, no funding for food, the higher incidence of drug abuse and violence, this is a tragedy in the making.   Everyone cares about the seed; no one cares about the child.

Yet again, the recklessness our government displays towards children is evident. The refusal to pass sensible gun-control laws is mind-boggling. An eighteen year-old in Uvalde, Texas, can purchase an AR-15 with absolutely no background check.  Assault weapons can be purchased in many states without a background check. In many parts of the country, this translates to mentally-ill individuals purchasing guns, as this eighteen year-old did, going into a school and shooting nineteen children, as young as nine-years old. Two teachers also died in this massacre. One week prior to this incident, an eighteen year-old entered a supermarket in Buffalo and killed ten people of color, injuring three. So many children and adults are repeatedly and senselessly killed because assault weapons are in the hands of youthful or mentally-ill people, often both. And 22% of firearms have been purchased without ana background check. Some states require the minimum age to be twenty-one, at least a little older. And what about limiting gun sales to people who have drug or alcohol convictions? If the Sandy Hook murders in 2012 by one lone shooter who killed twenty-six children was not sufficient to pass more restrictive gun-control legislation, what will be? More lives lost, more children who will never see their next birthdays, more grieving parents who sent their children to school in the morning, giving that child its last kiss.

Here lies the irony: it will soon be unacceptable for a pregnant woman whose health is in jeopardy, one who has been raped or a victim of incest, to have an abortion, but it is not okay, according to the law, to check the age or mental status of a person who selects to purchase an assault weapon. An estimated 18.8 million forearms were sold in the United States last year. Please do not even bother mentioning Second Amendment Rights and the rights of a fetus without a voice. It is 2022; The Constitution was written for a very different world, and one our forefathers could never envision.

If we truly care about the sanctity of human life, then it is imperative for our lawmakers to show their arbitrary rules are not grounded in hypocrisy, but instead in a sincere belief-system that children’s lives matter. To allow an unwanted or unhealthy child to grow up in a world without the resources to thrive—not just to survive—is a cruel and unusual punishment for all the Baby Does who have been cast aside—born and forgotten. Congress, the Senate, the Courts continue to show their true ugly colors: it is imperative to birth a child, but not care for it, feed it, nurture it, and equally acceptable to not restrict guns, so that one day a lone gunman will mercilessly kill that child, and many others. But those in power will continue to offer their thoughts and prayers, supported by an absolutely clueless Supreme Court.

 

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Pamela L. Laskin is a lecturer in the English Department at The City University of New York, where she directs the Poetry Outreach Center. She is the author of five books of poetry and three young adult novels, many of which focus on political and social issues. She is currently at work on a YA novel in verse about the war in Ukraine, with Ukrainian poet Vasyl Mahkno

 

All That Glitters

 

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              “What happened to your arm?” The perky female physician gazed at my arm and the huge, cumbersome splint surrounding it.

              “I had an accident ice-skating.”

              It was six weeks after this event when I fell and broke my radius while ice-skating, trying to prevent my granddaughter from falling. She did not, but I landed on my left arm, which was twisted and turned in many different directions. I was still in pain, but grateful the cumbersome three week cast was gone.

              I explained to the Mt. Sinai ob-gyn what an ordeal this had been.

              “Where did you go for the procedure—The Hospital for Special Surgery?”

              “No.”

              “Mt. Sinai? Lenox Hill?”

              “No. No. I went to Metropolitan Hospital,” I said with utter confidence.

              “Really?” she asked incredulously. “Why?”

              At the time there was only ONE reason I had gone to Metropolitan Hospital in January. There had been a recent Covid surge, and I knew they had a separate Covid unit. I lived equi-distant from Mt. Sinai and Metropolitan Hospital, and it seemed like a no-brainer to go to Metropolitan’s E.R. Of course, I expected the same chaos as in any other E.R., but I was pleasantly surprised. Maybe it was dumb luck that day, but everything seemed efficient and relatively calm. My point of reference was Brookdale Hospital in East New York, a hospital where my husband, a now-retired physician, had worked for four decades. Because of my familiarity, I went in with open eyes and an open heart. I loved Brookdale with all its challenges because the quality of care I received was always good. Gone were the stereotypes of an inner-city hospital. Gone was the pre-conceived notion that there are two separate hospital systems, which some people believe there are, and that I belonged in the place that had “more shine.”

              December 27^th cemented my world view, my values: my desire for an abundance of heterogeneity. At the end of the day, a hospital and its “alleged” reputation are irrelevant. Privileged people, not just in New York, but all over the world believe in their personal “type” and “class” of hospitals. Inherent in this view and by selecting a certain hospital, people feel the best care is theirs for the asking. Shouldn’t everyone have this feeling and—more importantly—this right? This perception demonstrates a callous disregard for the care poorer patients will receive. And what if there is no insurance? In fact, people of color have reported, in many cases,  sub-par care in ANY hospital, regardless of the so-called “status” of the hospital. Fair? I would say NOT. This did not seem like the case at Metropolitan Hospital.

              Let’s start with the E.R. Not only was it organized and orderly, but since it had a separate Covid unit, I felt safe. When I asked a staff nurse, after a while, if I could wait my turn in the x-ray department so that I could get an ice-pack for my wrist which was swelling and extremely painful, she was eager to be helpful, and steered me upstairs. All of the kind staff periodically asked if I needed my pack to be refreshed.

              When it was time to be x-rayed, the nurturing technician and staff patiently explained the procedure to me. Afterwards, I was seen by a wonderful P.A., Lindsey, and a remarkable doctor, Tyler Lucas, the head of Orthopedic Surgery. They provided options for me to either think about surgery or see what would happen when my arm was casted.

              Three weeks and three visits later, visits which were always timely and consistently met with a  cordial staff—always available to allay my fears and answer all my questions, it was evident the healing was not going properly, and I would need the surgery. Without any deliberation, I decided this would occur at Metropolitan Hospital, and Dr. Tyler Lucas would be my surgeon.

              “Why?” asked family members and friends.

              “Why not?” I responded.

              Only my husband, who had catered faithfully to all populations at Brookdale Hospital, understood. Good medical care  is about the quality and dedication of the staff, which includes EVERY ONE, not just the doctors, nurses, P.A.’s, the technicians, but also the secretaries, the receptionists, the security officers, all of whom  were really quite remarkable. At Metropolitan Hospital, I found a place I could feel at home in, a mixed economic population of diverse racial and ethnic workers and patients. The icing on the cake was the exemplary care.

              From the excellent surgery, to the follow-up, to the rehabilitation for my wrist, I was treated to the finest quality of care. I observed that every patient was greeted and treated with kindness, nurturance and top-quality professionalism.

              What I learned at Metropolitan Hospital I always knew: indeed, all that glitters is not gold. People need to see through the charade. Metropolitan Hospital may not have the external appearance of a “beautiful” hospital, but the care was superlative to all people.  “Private” does not mean better. Of course, this trajectory changes when one has a specialized disease, and needs the case of a specific hospital. For example, a cancer patient would most probably want to and need to go to Sloan Kettering Hospital, for example. In addition, some hospitals might not have a surgeon who has performed every type of surgery. Necessity might dictate alternative paths.

              In an ideal world, all people—regardless of race or class--would be treated equally. This should translate to all schools—or in this case hospitals—providing the highest quality of professionalism to each and every patient. Imagine a world where a Mt. Sinai doctor would not be, at first, incredulous that I was enamored of Metropolitan Hospital? This would mean transcending all stereotypes of race and class, and not designating some hospitals for the richer and others for the poorer, or a segregation of hospitals according to race. In this case, everyone, everywhere, regardless of their status, would receive the best treatment possible. Isn’t this what the Hippocratic Oath is all about? This might make all hospitals equally good and serving all populations. No one, in this case, would ever balk at a Brookdale or a Metropolitan or a Harlem Hospital. It would mean we would all be gifted with the lens to see beyond “what glitters “and would understand the inherent injustice of our system. We would—as we should be—treated as equals by the physicians and hospitals that care for us. I realize this is an ideal, but one we should strive toward.

              At the end of my Mt. Sinai doctor’s visit, after I had shared my affection for Metropolitan Hospital, my doctor exclaimed, “This is an amazing story. You have opened up my vision. You should write about it.”

              And that is exactly what I am doing, hoping not to open just one set of eyes, but a multitude.