Archives

All posts for the month June, 2018

The Great Divide(d)

Published June 30, 2018 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

In the last week I have heard so many horror stories that I keep waiting for the walls to bleed (although, to be fair, my house is in such terrible shape, I’m kind of expecting that.) Unfortunately the horror is coming from within my own country.

I am afraid. I have very real fear, not just because the entire country seems to be roiling with varying levels of crazy (like as of July 1, it will be be legal to discriminate against homosexuals in Mississippi)

Today I participated in a march protesting the separation of families at the border.

It actually makes my brain stop (neurons slowing down, complete and total inability to interact with multiple stimuli) when I try to process this.

Our Vice-President, Mike Pence, actually said, ” “Let me be clear: The United States is the most welcoming home for immigrants in human history,” Pence told pool reporters. “We are proud of this legacy. But we are also proud to be a nation of laws and a nation with recognized and respected international borders.
Don’t risk your lives or the lives of your children by trying to come to the United States on the road run by drug smugglers and human traffickers,” Pence continued. “If you can’t come legally, don’t come at all.”

(https://www.realclearpolitics.com/video/2018/06/28/mike_pence_warns_migrants_if_you_cant_come_legally_dont_come_at_all.html)

Really? What happened to the whole reason people came to this country in the first place?

Today I saw several people peacefully marching in protest of the current situation that our country is perpetrating, the separation of families at the border of Mexico and the US.

The arguments range from the “They’re taking our jobs!” to “If they weren’t  breaking the law, they wouldn’t lose their children.”

Children are in cages. They are being detained in camps.  I know the US has a history of dividing families, Japanese Internment Camps, Slavery, Native American’s sent to boarding schools, but we also have a history of botulism and polio.  We stopped that because it was terrible.

The worst thing about this is that the divide is showing me where people stand.

For many years I have been the holder of secrets (No not in formal, here’s the tiny cedar chest, hide it in your closet, you are magic way, but wouldn’t that be cool?) For some reason, people unload their emotional baggage on me. I have never betrayed those secrets, from the very minor embarrassing middle name of a guitar player I know to a secret that I pretend I don’t know because it does make me think about that person a little differently.)  I don’t like knowing the secrets but I am finding that I like knowing who people really are a whole lot less.  I know that I am making people uncomfortable with my loud stance on the current situation (I probably shouldn’t have smacked myself on the head with the book about the US rescuing thoroughbred horses from Nazi Germany, shrieking, “What?! WE saved the damn horses before we saved children?”  The other shoppers at Sam’s didn’t appreciate it, although it didn’t even slow the kiosk people down.)

What is making me uncomfortable is knowing that I may lose people I truly love because of the divide.

Yes, I am American (third generation) but I am made of Mexican parts. I am terrified that my citizenship is not going to matter.

I’m scared.

 

That is the window into my personality.

Published June 27, 2018 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I took my own clipboard to DPS (DMV in most other places, Texas has to be all fancy and have it’s own initials for things like STAAR, TEKS and other horrible things.) I planned ahead to get my driver’s license renewed. It expires on June 28th and in addition to it being my 49th birthday, I have summer school to wrap up and my classroom to close out and I don’t need the added Tsuris of going to DPS on my birthday.

I will be heading out to Myrtle Beach on Sunday to go see BatBeard, and I don’t want any complications should I be questioned for committing the crime of Traveling While Mexican.  (More about that later, of course.) So I decided to be proactive and go early so maybe, just maybe I would get my license before I leave.

Since summer school lets out at noon, I thought I would breeze by after school and simply get things taken care of.  (Hold for sardonic laughter)

There were so many cars in the parking lot I couldn’t even pull in.

So I went home to nap and plan for going the next day.

The Mom suggested that I fill out the paperwork online and print it out so that my trip would be manageable. (Translation: NO SCREAMING AT THE DPS!)  This sounds easy enough, except for some reason, my Google Chrome is not allowing any of my saved tabs to go through and is iffy about letting me access the internet, so now I’m using Safari, which seems to be working but I’m doing some juggling trying to remember passwords. Now comes the problem of the printer.  I have two printers. Both show full bars on ink.  The one I have been using for over a year has decided it doesn’t feel like printing clearly or intensely (maybe it needs therapy or medication). The other printer isn’t speaking to me.  I have no idea why. Maybe it’s because I let the kitten hang out in the office while she was getting used to the place, or learned to climb the gate. Guess which happened first?

Anyway. I coaxed a sample page out of the printer so I thought I would give it a shot. I dowloaded the PDF and filled it out. (FIO). Then I tried to print it. It did, but without any of the information I had just spent 20 minutes filling out. If it had been thirty, I would have actually screamed out loud (ASOL). So I filled it out again and this time took a screen shot of the page. I then printed out the screenshot. This time it worked, but it looked a bit small.

Nil Desperandum (Latin for Don’t Freak Out) (DFO). All of the important stuff was there, so I clipped it to my fancy yellow clipboard (FYC) and put it under Aerial, the Rabbit who watches important stuff (RWWIS).

The next day, I got to the DPS three minutes before it opened. Still no place to park and the line to get in was all the way around the building. I was able to get in with the first group in time to hear the first round of barked instructions, one of which was to turn in your clipboard when finished filling out the paperwork. Thanks to the Mom and my own ability to advance panic (I think the tense apple doesn’t fall far from the anxious tree.) (TAAT) I was able to smile primly over my preprinted paperwork and say, “I brought my own clipboard”.

IBMOC