NaNoWriMo

If you've noticed that Owl and I have been even more radio-silency than normal, that's because of those four small syllables up top.

NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, is a marathon writing event that takes place every November. Participants are challenged to write 50,000 in 30 days. Traditionally these 50,000 will all be part of one original novel, but not everybody does this. Owl, for instance, is working on two separate projects for NaNo. I'm writing a fictional bestiary (based off of drawings for Inktober, a similar challenge where participants draw an ink drawing for each day in October), which, although it has an underlying subplot, isn't really a novel per se. Some people write fanfiction, biographies, or a series of essays. The important thing is that we are all writing.

50,000 in 30 days sounds like a lot, but the reality is that this generally produces a fairly small novel. And few people really have a completed novel at the end of the month. However, as one of the prizes for winners (anybody who completes the challenge), the official NaNoWriMo organization offers a free print copy of your work, and several months to edit and format before submitting a copy for printing. I have a burning need to display a reference guide to fantastical monsters that I made up on my bookshelves with my name on it, so that's my goal for the month. 50,000 words. They don't have to be good. They don't even have to be spelled right. That's what editing is for. But they have to be there.

With that in mind, I am welcoming you all to challenge Owl and I. (Yes, Owl, I'm volunteering you for this as well.) It's a NaNo tradition for writers to challenge one another with dares, word wars, and other madness. A dare can be anything---write a whole paragraph without using the letter e, or an old NaNo favorite, write a scene that includes the "traveling shovel of death". A word war is basically a contest between two or more writers to see who can reach a certain word goal first. Crawls and sprints are among my favorite NaNo challenges. A sprint is pretty much what it sounds like. You write for a certain amount of time without interruptions---no Internet, no phone, no coffee breaks, no editing or second-guessing your word choice. You write constantly, and you write as much as you can, until you reach the finish line. Crawls are my personal favorite though. A word crawl walks you through a set of criteria, and presents you with a series of mini-challenges to be done in sequence. Take, for instance, the bookshelf world crawl Owl and I held at our apartment for a group of friends earlier this week. It began by asking participants to count the number of bookshelves in their home and multiplying it by 100. We have 8 bookshelves, so we wrote 800 words each. To make it more challenging, we made it a word war, so the first to 800 "won" (bragging rights), and we added a dare---a character must, in those 800 words, find a dusty box in an attic. (And, since I have bragging rights: I won! 800 words in 9.56 minutes. And I even spelled some words correctly.) The second leg of the crawl had us pick a shelf and count how many different book series we had on that shelf. Now, this challenge was made somewhat complicated due to the fact that Owl and I have begun to pack up our books for our eminent move, so we only had about 3 shelves worth of books left out, scattered around the 8 shelves. So we cheated a bit, and picked the shelf with all of my Terry Pratchett, which I couldn't bear to put away in boxes just yet, and counted each of his subseries (the City Watch books, the Witches books, etc). Eventually we decided on saying we had 7 distinct series, and according to the rules, multiplied that by 50. So we had a fairly easy stroll to 350 words, and moved on to the third leg, which included the option for one of my favorite challenges, the Fifty Headed Hydra. The Fifty Headed Hydra is a word sprint where the goal is to write 500 words in 5 minutes, so named by the famed creator of the Hydra. According to NaNo legend the first Hydra was successful, but of the 500 words, only three were spelled correctly: "fifty", "headed", and "hydra". (I want to read that novel.) The crawl continues in this fashion, and at the end of it I had doubled my total word count, though it took Owl and I three days to properly complete it. We next have our sights set on the Pokemon Gym Challenge, which we're hoping to start today, and which we are very excited for.

So, if you would like to challenge us to a dare, a sprint, a crawl, or whatever you want, please do! We could both use the help, and they're all a lot of fun.

You can find the forum dedicated to NaNo prompts, word wars, sprints, and crawls here, and some unofficial dares here, here, here, and here, or you can give us your own! (BP= bonus points, DBP= double bonus points, TBP= triple bonus points, etc. The points are Internet points and they can be redeemed for warm fuzzy feelings of pride.)

Now, I am behind on my word count, so I will leave this here. (And I'm only planning on counting this blog post towards my total word goal if I'm really desperate at the end of the month...) This will likely be the only blog post for November, so treasure it, or something. I'll be back in December to finish the harrowing (and now outdated) tale of my Mayo Clinic adventures.

Happy noveling, everybody. Give us challenges, and we will do our best to complete them!

Cheers,
Raven

The Mayo Adventure, part 1

As promised, I wrote about my trip to the Mayo Clinic at the beginning of September. It's a looong post, so it's getting broken up into several parts. 

The Trip to Rochester

Our Mayo Clinic adventure started out auspiciously. The trip from my apartment to Rochester, MN is, theoretically, a little over three hours. My mom set out early from Chicago to pick me up and we continued the journey, through Wisconsin countryside that always surprises me in its beauty. We crossed over the mighty Mississippi river and drove past the town where my father grew up, and it was a serene, interesting drive. Even stopping for lunch halfway through we made it to Rochester in good time, tired after the drive (her more than me, since she did all the driving!) but in good spirits. We navigated through Rochester with relative ease, until we came to a quaint house in a quiet subdivision---our castle for the next week.

The House

The house was one we rented through AirBnB, and it was gorgeous. We couldn’t have asked for a nicer place to come back to, and as our stay drew on, we became ever more grateful for the peaceful space to decompress. One of the co-owners met us as we drove up to his property. An overwhelmingly polite Midwestern man, he told us that he had been a pilot for most of his life, doing emergency flights to and from the Mayo Clinic. After one too many winters flying to Fargo in the middle of the night during a blizzard, he decided he’d had enough of the airborne life, and took a job at Mayo in their aerospace division, where he helped facilitate health screenings and care for pilots. He told us that his partner and co-owner was a pilot as well, laughing slightly as he did so, presumably at the improbability of two pilots settling down in a quiet town in Minnesota and opening a(n Air)BnB together. He gave us a thorough tour of the house, which offered more than enough space for the two of us. The kitchen was well-equipped for basic (and not-so-basic) cooking, the unit came with a fancy “smart” washer and dryer, and the ground floor bedroom had, across from it, a small room with a TV and a recliner. He told us that many people who stayed with him were in town for the same reason we were, and many of them were older, often with mobility issues, and the recliner provided an option for those who couldn’t sleep supine. For me, the room was a perfect “insomnia room”---insomniacs are often advised not to spend any more time than necessary in their bedroom. If they’re not sleeping, they should be elsewhere, so that the only association with their bedroom was sleep. The room across the hall presented itself as an ideal haven for my sleepless nights, though I was hoping (optimistically as it turned out) that I wouldn’t have much trouble in that regard.

The house had a cozy living room, with a Smart TV that offered more features than I really felt was necessary in a TV, but that I naturally explored right away. The living room was stocked with basic board games and a variety of delightfully nerdy BlueRay discs, including the entire series of The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Harry Potter, and Indiana Jones, earning the owners my instant approval. The house was decorated beautifully, complimenting earthy tones with splashes of color, and giving many of the rooms individual themes---aviation, for my bedroom, Parisian art for my mother’s, and for the insomnia room, retro-style comic book art, done by a friend of the owners. They even provided a welcome gift bag for us, full of instant oatmeal, fruit snacks, crackers, and water bottles, all of which proved highly useful during the long days at Mayo. We settled in, and made a grocery run, driving by the clinic so we would know exactly where it was we were going the next day, for our 7:30am appointment. Tired, we went to sleep early, but neither of us slept well---in what would turn out to be the theme of the week.

The Clinic

The Mayo Clinic itself is an immense facility, spread over several buildings, the largest of which is 21 stories tall with rounded sides extending up its 93 meters. It towers over an idyllic courtyard, across from which is an open air mall/restaurant strip that leads into the University of Minnesota-Rochester shopping area. The two major buildings, Gonda and Mayo, are connected to one another in an awkward fusion that facilitates moving between different departments in different buildings, but has the effect of making it look from the outside like the taller, sleeker Gonda is eating the shorter, squarer Mayo.

The inside of the Gonda and Mayo buildings, where we spent all of our time, was clearly designed with serenity and tranquility in mind. The main level has a long, marble and glass passageway, populated by the coffee and gift shop, the cafeteria, rows of comfortable couches and end tables, and a grand piano that was nearly always in use, occasionally with choral accompaniment. Each wing of the Gonda/Mayo amalgamation was home to one or two individual departments. We spent most of our time traveling between GI (Mayo 12), Neurology (Mayo 8) and the Sleep Clinic (Gonda 17), which meant we learned the layout of the buildings pretty quickly. The departments were equipped with large, often quite full, waiting areas, and we soon learned why. As it turns out it was not at all unusual for patients to spend six hours a day in the waiting room of a particular department, their names on a list to get an appointment should another patient not show up for theirs. We had our own share of waiting, but more on that later. The waiting rooms in the Gonda building were more impressive than those in Mayo. The huge glass walls presented a stunning panoramic view of Rochester and the hills and valleys in the distance. The room itself was full of plush couches, convenient end tables, walls full of pamphlets for patients to read (How To Cope with Chronic Pain; Caring for a Loved One with Chronic Illness; Tips for Managing Stress…and so on) and a row of computers where patients could log onto their Mayo Clinic patient profile to check their appointment schedules and message their doctors. The Sleep Clinic was equipped with a number of jigsaw puzzles, several half-complemented, and magazines in towering stacks, well-loved by the hundreds of patients who came through the Sleep Clinic each month.  We got to know the Sleep Clinic well, and the view from the 17^th floor of the Gonda building, looking out over the city and to the wilds beyond, was one of the highlights of the trip.

New Year, Fresh Start

Hello readers,

L'Shana Tova to all readers who, like Owl and I, are celebrating the High Holidays. This time marks the new year for the Jewish people, the beginning of the year 5776.

For my part, I am resolving on the new year to be more mindful of my promise to this blog. It's been a month and a day since the last post here. It has been a busy month for us both---Owl went back home to visit family, I had a long-awaited trip to the Mayo Clinic, we said goodbye to one of our best friends as she moved across the country, and we celebrated the New Year with my family and my childhood synagogue. It was a good, busy month to end a good, busy summer, but now we are back, and hopefully back to stay. I will not promise daily updates, at least not right away, as I think both Owl and I found that a challenge that we were not quite prepared to face just yet, but we will update as often as we can, and hopefully you will continue to find what we have to say worth reading!

5775 was a good year, but it was also a trying year. Since last Rosh Hashanah I lost two jobs due to illness. I spent far too much time in the UW ER in the middle of the night. I saw many doctors and did not get many answers. Two of my dearest friends left the city, and while they are beginning their own adventures off in the great unknown (outside the Midwest) I miss them quite a bit. I hope that 5776 will have all of the sweetness of 5775 but less of the stress. I hope this not just for me, but for all of you as well. I always thought I was lucky, having the opportunity to celebrate a new year twice annually. It was confusing, yes, from a calendrical perspective, but the time for reflection and resolution is always a welcome one.

So: I hope in the new year this blog will be getting the upkeep it deserves. I hope all the best for myself and for all of you, and I hope you all have a sweet new year. May we all be inscribed for blessings in the book of life.

Shanah Tova.

P.S. In my next post, I will talk more about my experiences at the Mayo Clinic. (Ooh! Fun!) If you have anything you want to ask me about the process, or about Mystery Illness in general, leave it in the comments, and I will do my best to answer, within reason.

Religions of Wisconsin

This week, I have so far seen:

-Four Buddhist monks (bhikkhu) in kasaya standing around the jewelry counter in Sears, looking at diamond necklaces. I think, judging by the color of the robes, they were Tibetan. I don't know if that makes this any more or less unlikely, but I thought you'd like all the details I could offer.

-Two different bhikkhu, three days later, chatting in a McDonald's. McDonald's, in case you were wondering, is not known for offering vegetarian options, especially in the US, (though I do talk about their surprisingly helpful nutrition labeling here); granted this is not necessarily a requirement of all bhikkhu, but there was a certain juxtaposition in the image.

-A woman who, upon me holding the door of the aforementioned McDonald's open for her and the small child she was carrying, told her child to say "thank you" because that's what you say when somebody performs a mitzvah. (I'm all for teaching cultural literacy early, but if your kid can't say "hello" yet there's a good chance "mitzvah" is beyond them. I admire your dedication, though, Polite McDonald's Stranger.)

-A group of Mennonites at the zoo, which while not odd in and of itself, is somewhat odder considering that Owl and I have seen at least one group of Mennonties every time we've been to said zoo. Which is a lot of times. It is, in fact, more times than we have seen the zoo's tiger, who spends much of his time sleeping, with no concern for my burning desire to be best friends with it.

-A Hasidic boy and his father buying Sprite from a mall vending machine. The boy had a kippah with the Acme Road Runner embroidered on the back. I saw them later, sitting on the ground outside the mall waiting as a minivan driven by a woman in a tichel picked them up. 

Briefly, a disclaimer: I do not claim to be an expert in anything at all, especially religion, and especially at least two of the three religions mentioned above. This is why I give you links. Sometimes the links are to Wikipedia. They may or may not have been written by experts. Sometime the links are to forums. Probably not experts, but they know more than me. Sometimes they are to actual academic discussions or legitimate articles. Those are probably by experts. Don't believe everything you read on the Internet, even if you read it here!

Religious diversity is a wonderful thing. So is cultural literacy, which, when it pertains to religion, is a) super important and b) so often woefully lacking. As an example, in the area I grew up, it was entirely reasonable to, if you were the class's Token Jew like me, expect a) to be asked if Jews believe in God, b) to be told Jews don't believe in God, c) to be told Jews killed Jesus, d) to be told that I, personally, was responsible, as a Jew, for killing Jesis, e) to ask me if I "spoke Jewish" and f) to face outrage if I asked, in turn, if they "spoke Christian". Not to generalize, but most of the people asking me these questions were Christian, because most of the people I grew up around were Christian. Religious diversity: important, but hard. And I, myself, have some glaring blind spots when it comes to other religions, and sometimes even my own. Furthermore, as an atheist, or if you prefer, Secular Jew, I have found that it's not always enough to respect religion. If you don't practice it yourself, some people just won't recognize your opinions. And sometimes other atheists will scorn you for trying to be respectful. Sometimes, it turns out, people aren't very nice, and that comes out, more often than ever, when you challenge their core beliefs.

But religion, or lack thereof, is just another fascinating aspect of all of our collective and individual identities. We are these amazing, complex, deeply intuitive creatures, with a capacity for introspection and awe that should be cherished. The fact that we have developed so many vastly intricate and immensely captivating religions and denominations and sects is a thing of beauty. The assumption that not having a religion makes you devoid of a moral code, compromises your humanity, or makes you arrogant is absurd, but so too is the assumption that having a religion makes you complacent or unintelligent. Non-religion does not make you blind to beauty, and religion does not make you blind to reason. If we accept that, if we learn to see the humor in a kippah with the Road Runner on it without judging the wearer for being too pious, or not pious enough, or not pious in the right way, we will all be much better for it. 

P.S. Since this was a very link-heavy post, because I like letting others explain things for me, and because we rely on outside links a lot in this blog, I set up a poll, where you can tell me what you think about clicking on a dozen links when you read our pretty, pretty words. You can find it here------->*

*(may be slightly lower or higher on the page but I trust you to find it yourself from here. I believe in you!)

First World 21st Century Problems

No citizenship post today, but I will get back to the question I left you with - one you probably already knew the answer to - or at least held opinions about. 

The Puritans, who settled all over what is now Massachusetts, were interested in religious freedom... for themselves. They were very strict Protestants who, in Europe, wanted to rid the church of any vestiges of Catholicism. They were very pious, strict Protestants who did not have a voice in the English, and later Dutch, Church as they wanted. They wanted to live in a place where they were free to practice their religion and live where laws reflect their religion. You can probably see where this is heading, right?

When the Puritans started their new colonies they made laws that Puritans would support. They did not allow the practice of other religions within Puritan colonies and they had a specific hatred for the Quakers. In 1660 they executed one, a woman by the name of Mary Dyer for the severe crime of living in the colony while practicing Quakerism. This peeved King Charles II of England somewhat (in the way water displeases cats somewhat). In 1661, as a response to Mary Dyer's hanging, King Charles forbade the further execution of Quakers in the Massachusetts colonies. When that didn't work he revoked the charter for the colony and sent his own governor to enforce some actual religious tolerance in the New World. 

For those who wonder where we, especially in New England, got our history of religious tolerance and diversity you need look no further than England. In fact, it would be best if you stopped there. The Puritans had very little (basically) nothing to do with bringing religious tolerance to the American ethos.

Fun Fact: The Massachusetts Bay Colony executed 4 Quakers between 1659 and 1661, they are referred to as the Boston Martyrs in the Quaker tradition. The first execution was on October 27th of 1659. Today, October 27th is International Religious Freedom Day. The irony, at least to me, is palpable.

On to the thrust of today's post. I wanted to share a book with you all: The Ghost Map by Steven Johnson (I highly recommend the book!!) It is a book I read with voracious appetite over the course of a long weekend as I traveled home for an old friend's wedding this month. The book is a work of historical non-fiction, but told as one part mystery novel and one part hero's journey. The action, as it were, centers around the 1854 London cholera outbreak that killed more than 600 people. The outbreak struck the Soho neighborhood around Broad Street and within a three day period more than 100 people in the small neighborhood were dead. It didn't take long for the rest to flee or fall ill themselves. 

The book focuses on two different men who followed the course of the cholera outbreak: Jon Snow, a  Soho resident, doctor and scientist; and Henry Whitehead, a clergyman who was stationed at a church in the Soho neighborhood. The initial investigation is carried out primarily by Jon Snow, who traces the deaths and comes the radical (at the time) conclusion that the disease is waterborne, not airborne. Overcoming a great deal of push-back from community members in Soho and in science Dr. Snow is able to get the water pump at Broad Street shut down, and so stop the outbreak in its tracks. Despite his brilliant research Dr. Snow did not receive credit in his lifetime for correctly marking the way in which cholera spreads (it is indeed waterborne, and the infection did indeed start at the Broad Street pump the doctor had shut down). 

Reading the book while on a plane traveling the length of half a country I marveled at the advances we have made in science, city planning, and social issues since 1854 (only 200 years ago). The scientific community now openly believes that just because something stinks doesn't mean it's going to kill you (that was the only acceptable belief in 1854). We know that disease spreads in many ways, but water is a big one and just because something tastes clean doesn't mean it isn't teeming with invisible bacteria. As a community we've moved past believing that a person's character determines their likelihood of illness (another widely held 1854 belief.) We don't use cesspools anymore to dispose of human waste. We also don't dump in into rivers, lakes, or harbors (at least not intentionally). We realize that out of sight doesn't really mean out of trouble and modern cities must be designed to reflect that knowledge. Human waste is corralled away from residential areas, clean water is piped in. This is true in every centrally designed and planned city in the industrialized world. Even poor areas of those cities. Modern day New York dwellers aren't likely to get cholera just because they don't live in the fashionable area of town, nor are they going to have trouble accessing clean water, or even electricity if they are able to pay for it.

The book made me appreciate how the little things in my life that I take for granted are really big things that I should be grateful for. I have access to clean running water, electricity, sanitary living conditions, personal space, and a relatively high degree of personal security. I don't live in fear the way every historical figure Johnson peoples his very street-level retelling of the outbreak do. They are realized they lived in close quarters with Death and that He could claim them, their family, and their neighborhood with relative ease and brevity. For all the things we have to be afraid of today in the United States, we don't have fear the way the inhabitants of 1854 had fear. There's no comparison. And for that I'm truly grateful and appreciative.

But, some people still live that way. After Haiti's 2010 earthquake there was a huge outbreak of cholera that claimed over 9,000 lives on the island. Africa also continues to suffer from cholera outbreaks, especially in central Sub-Saharan Africa in countries like; Kenya, the DRC, Cameroon, Nigeria, Sierra-Leone, and Guinea-Bissau. And the thing is, it's a treatable condition and a preventable problem. Both things can be fixed with clean, accessible water, and education.

Why isn't is being addressed? Because there is another facet of 1854 life that we still haven't managed to change. When the problem doesn't affect us directly it's easy to not care and look the other way. Cholera outbreaks are very isolated. It made it easy for the wealthy of London, who lived in droves just one street away from the 1854 outbreak, to ignore the problem or write it off as dirty living and the problem of the poor (brought on by themselves no doubt). In fact, it was the government itself that made the problem possible by encouraging the use of cesspools and dumping polluted water and waste into the Thames and then allowing Thames water to be distributed to the general public. Today, we can look the other way because it's not our country. Not our neighborhood. It's the problem of another government, one that's probably corrupt or lacking proper channels to address the issue. It's easy to make excuses and excuse ourselves from global responsibility, but the fact remains - we are all people with basic human dignity. We are invested in this world and though we may not suffer the poverty and fear directly, it affects us all. We have to watch. We have to pay attention. We have to engage. Because there is a solution and it is within our reach to bring it about.

Read about the issues that pertain to cholera and so many other things that come along with unsafe drinking water at Water.org. They're a great organization and even if you can't donate your money or your time (I know I can't at the moment), the best you can do is not look away. Stay informed and stay engaged.

Citizenship 101: The Beginning (Not Really Though)

Welcome to Citizenship 101. Today we begin nowhere near the beginning. History doesn't have a clear beginning, middle, or end. And the history of countries is particularly difficult to pin down. In the United States the beginning comes well before European settlers set up the colonies. It started between 23,000 BCE and 9000 BCE when Asian nomads crossed a frozen land bridge to the continent we now call North America. From then until 1492, when the continent was "discovered" by Christopher Columbus, there was a ton of history and thousands of distinct civilizations, nations, and cultures. I could spend an entire blog just discussing that history, but I am not the archaeologist of the pair so I will leave that period to Raven's expertise.

So I am going to begin in the middle, instead of the beginning, with the "discovery", colonization, and settling of The New World.

Here are some basic facts you should know about the United States before it was the United States.

"Discovery"

- Columbus wasn't the only one who thought the world was round - everyone thought that! 1492 was the year they invented the globe - Columbus believed the circumference of the globe was smaller than it actually was, leading him to believe that he could circumnavigate his way to East Asian riches by sailing into the empty water we now know isn't empty at all.

- Columbus landed in the Bahamas on October 12th 1492, but that wasn't the first time Europeans hit New World soil. Leif Ericson landed in Newfoundland in 1002 or 1003, almost a half century earlier.

- Columbus was a stubborn ass who abused the natives, thought they were too stupid to know where they lived and went to his grave believing he'd found a new route to East Asia. Seriously, why do we celebrate this man?

Colonization

- Between 1565 and 1634 lots of European settlers from England, the Netherlands, France, and Spain began to colonize the Eastern coastline of the new continent.

- In 1590 Roanoke colony, founded by Queen Elizabeth I, mysteriously vanishes along with all its colonists. Modern archaeologist detectives believe the colonists split with some settling in Merry Hill in North Carolina and others assimilated with the Native Americans in the area.

- In 1607 the Virginia Company founded Jamestown in Virginia, which would struggle in its quest for gold, but later succeed hugely in planting something even more valuable (tobacco). 

- In 1620 the fun-loving Puritans joined the colonizing party, hoping to practice their stricter version of Christianity away from the loose and immoral Protestants of Europe.

- Most settlement happened for one of two reasons, religiously persecuted groups gained a monarch's permission to settle or a company gained the monarch's permission to settle and make money in the New World. In both cases the monarch gave permission because it would make the home country wealthier.

- There were 4 distinct areas of colonization: the tobacco colonies in Virginia, The New England Colonies, the Middle Colonies formed in Pennsylvania, and the Southern Colonies between Virginia and Florida.

- The tobacco colonies were settled by the Virginia Company and would eventually become fertile and wealthy farming land for tobacco. It was made up primarily of Virginia and Maryland, with Maryland becoming a haven for Catholics and Virginia for more traditional Protestants.

- The New England Colonies began with the Pilgrims in Plymouth and eventually split into several colonies: Massachusetts, the more religiously liberal Rhode Island, the more restrictive Connecticut, and the wild and untamed colony of New Hampshire.

- The Middle Colonies including New York, Pennsylvania, and Delaware were a mish-mash of all sorts of settlers fleeing religious persecution and became a very prosperous and comparatively egalitarian place for its time.

- The Southern Colonies, which began as only the Carolina Colony, were poorer, mainly agrarian colonies that eked by in pre-Revolutionary times.

Settlement

- By 1775 there were 12 settled colonies: Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, New York, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. Delaware, while often listed as one of the 13 colonies was never actually a colony. It became a state in 1776, after the Declaration.

- Settlers came to the New World in one of three ways: freely, indentured, or enslaved.

- Slavery was practiced all over the New World, but was especially prevalent in the South, especially in tobacco rich areas like Virginia and Maryland.

- The difference in the working conditions of indentured servants and slaves was largely hope - many indentured servants never worked their way out of debt, but they had the opportunity to do so. Slaves had no opportunity. Indentured servitude also petered out much faster than slavery.

- Indentured servants and slaves were both more common in the South than in the North, but both areas had them and without their free labor the 12 colonies would never have been as successful.

- Georgia was largely a buffer area between the more prosperous Carolina colonies and the more hostile Native American nations, poor farmers were granted land in the territory in order to basically serve as a human wall against a less than friendly neighbor.

Truth or Myth?

Starting all the way back with the Puritans, this country has been built on the deep belief in personal freedom and religious tolerance.

I'll give you my two cents next time.

Let me know if you have questions, comments, or more information you'd like to know in the comments!

Houses

There is an entire generation that can, by and large, define their personality by which house they belong to.

Of course, not everybody of my generation has read the Harry Potter books, but they are nevertheless a sort of cultural touchstone. Most pop-culture savvy millennials are at least familiar with terms like Hogwarts and Muggle, even if they haven't actually consumed any of the media in the Harry Potter franchise.

So, understandably, which of the four Hogwarts houses an individual belongs to has become something of a point of speculation for some. There are hundreds of quizzes online that attempt to solve this question, but the definitive quiz by and large seems to be the Sorting Hat quiz on Pottermore, a site moderated by JK Rowling herself.

July 31^st was Harry Potter's 35^th birthday, so the series has been on my mind recently. Earlier today I got into a conversation with some friends about which of the four Hogwarts Houses we all saw ourselves as, and several of us took (or retook) the Pottermore Sorting Hat quiz. Some of us were surprised by the results. Some of us noted that they had changed from earlier results on the same quiz. Some of us recalled relating to one house in particular when we first began to read the books, and then having our views change overtime. That makes sense, we agreed. Personalities change over time. In the decade it took for the books to be written, all of the readers evolved as individuals. What house they most resonated with as an early reader might well be completely at odds with what house they resonated with by the time the series had culminated.

Then one of us pointed out that, at Hogwarts, the same thing happens. Over the seven years a student is expected to attend Hogwarts, a lot can change. But they are permanently assigned to a house that best fit the personalities of their eleven-year-old self. Granted, this brought up several interesting considerations---for instance, Neville displays few traits of the typical Gryffindor for the majority of the series, but in the end proves himself capable of wielding the sword of Godric Gryffindor himself. Does the Sorting Hat know who a student will end up becoming? What are the greater implications of that?

Think back to your eleven-year-old selves. Who were you then? Who are you now? Do you still hold the same fundamental values? Are your principle worldviews still the same? Do you interact with people the same way?

And when it comes right down to it, how important is the Sorting Hat? How strong of an influence does a student's house have on them? After all, Hagrid asserts that "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin," though this is clearly untrue since Peter Pettigrew, who betrays his best friends for Voldemort (though ultimately sacrifices himself in a final act of redemption) was a Gryffindor, and the inverse certainly isn't true since there were countless Slytherins who never “went bad” and countless more who redeemed themselves. So, while being sorted into a particular house comes with certain stigmas and expectations, it is not enough to shape who you are or who you will become. Yet, it serves as a convenient way for Hogwarts students to label themselves and others. It becomes a part of their identity, both internally and externally, and influences both how they are viewed and how they are treated.

At eleven, human brains are still far from being fully developed. It seems absurd that so integral a part of a young witch or wizard's identity would rest on a choice made at so young an age.

Admittedly, that choice is being made by a sentient hat, so this may just have to be one of those times where logic takes a back seat to magic, and that's perfectly alright.

What house are you? Is this different from what you used to see yourself as? Tell us in the comments below!

Thoughts From Places #1

Today Raven and I went to the beach. We frolicked in the waves and soaked up the sun (in my case a bit too literally). Originally we were going to kayak on the beautiful, serene lake that we are fortunate enough to live near… but the beautiful, serene lake was less serene and more possessed by angry wind demons today. Less boating, but awesome waves at the beach. Raven and I braved cold water and colder wind to throw ourselves at the cresting water with the abandon of the silliest of children. Fitting because we were the only ones in the water over the age of 16.

As we threw ourselves at the waves we watched kite-surfers throw themselves into the sky with equal abandon. I felt alive and aware and completely in the moment, something I yearn towards feeling at all times. It strikes me that feeling alive is usually correlated fairly strongly with meeting and facing things that could kill you. Skydiving, climbing Mt. Everest, braving Death Valley, running with the bulls, singing karaoke. Okay, that last one probably won’t kill you, but I remain unconvinced. We derive joy and excitement from facing our deaths. Facing something that is larger or more powerful than ourselves.

I grew up on the Atlantic Ocean and spent most summers diving into the freezing northern Atlantic waters – lips blue, arms numb, ice running through my veins. It remains one of my fondest memories of childhood and stands out clearly in my memory. It also remains one of my earliest memories of terror (aside from the standard monster under the bed variety). The ocean to me as a child (and even today) is a vast unknowable thing. It may not be infinite, but neither can I see nor imagine its whole and so is the closest thing on this earth to infinite that I have experienced.  And it is one of my most indelible memories. Etched into my memory by fear and awe.

As I threw myself at a far smaller body of water this afternoon I felt a similar feeling of awe (though admittedly less fear), but my sense of awe came not from living close to death and instead came more from a feeling of oneness. I couldn’t see the bottom where my feet were buried in sand, but I could close my eyes and feel the movement of the water, the pull of the sand, the chill of the wind and I was a part of it. I felt connected and infinite. Both incredibly large and infinitesimally small.

Perhaps we don’t pull the marrow of our lives from living on the brink of death, but from throwing us into the infinite and (for a time) allowing it to absorb a part of our being. 

A Year of New Experiences

Well, clearly I was not so good at updating during my hiatus. Are we surprised? No? Yeah, okay, that's fair!

I'm planning a fairly long post (or possible multiple posts) about the reason for my hiatus: a family trip to Holland and Norway. Spoilers: it was awesome. For today, though, here's a bit of a reflective post.

I turned 24 last Friday. In many ways, 23 wasn't a great year for me. I quit a job for the first time. I quit a job for the second time. I had my first ER visit, closely followed by my second ER visit. I had my first MRI, my second MRI, my first elimination diet, my second elimination diet, and so on. I dropped my first course, had my first car die, and mourned the loss of my first, longest, and biggest hero. At first, when I looked back on my year, it was kind of hard to get all that excited about it. For much of this year, I felt like a failure. I felt like I had accomplished nothing. I felt like I had given up so many things that I should have pursued. Now, almost all of these disappointments were directly linked to being ill, so I recognized on some level that it wasn't necessarily any great weakness of spirit that was my shortcoming, but rather the it was the inevitable manifestation of the unforseen side effects of Mystery Illness. After a point, however, it became hard to console myself with that reminder. I beat myself up for allowing myself to become a victim of circumstance. Even if I couldn't control my illness, certainly I could control my life, so really, what was my excuse? To a certain extent I think this is true, and to a certain extent I think it's untrue, and probably not fair to myself. But that's an entirely different issue. The point is, I was struggling to find any reason to be proud of the past year, and I felt like I had nothing positive to show for it.

But yesterday, I received something in the mail, and with it a much needed change of perspective. An envelope addressed to me showed up along with the weekly ads and junk mail, and inside it was a check. From my client, for whom I am doing some promotional blogging for his novels. 

I had just received my first paycheck as a freelance writer.

This brought on a degree of pride and satisfaction far greater than I had expected, and even more importantly, it got me thinking about all of the other "firsts" of the past year. Not all of them were positives, clearly, as shown above. But a lot of them were, and a lot of them were pretty big, too. They just got lost in the mire of my disappointments, and I focused on all of the wrong things. 

Some of these achievements are big. Some are small. Some are personal, some are professional, and some are silly. All of them, however, are important to me, and I am grateful for them all.

With that in mind, here's another list:

Raven's 15 Firsts of the Past Year

1.) First paycheck as a freelance writer

2.) First paycheck as a freelance web designer

3.) First experience as a video game journalist

4.) First blog (thanks guys!)
5.) First post-college classes (even if had to drop one of them, I learned a lot from both, and am proud of myself for continuing my education.)
6.) First time writing my own functional code (since I'm not willing to count the tinkering I did in high school and college as "functional")

7.) First full year in my own apartment ("own" meaning I pay rent, not that I live alone, in this case)

8.) First time living alone with a significant other

9.) First new car (see how I turned one of my negatives into a positive? Perspective!)

10.) First trip to my family cottage without my parents or any other family members (one of the big signs of adulthood in my family)

11.) First out-of-town nerd convention (going to cons is one thing, but traveling and renting a hotel room for them? A whole different experience!)

12.) First watercolor painting (Paintings of maps count, right?)

13.) First penpal!

14.) First time being a regular at a comic book shop (It's a big deal to me, okay?)

15.) First experience with being self-employed (It's terrifying! And rewarding!)

And as a super special bonus, two weeks ago I met my incredibly sweet cousin for the first time, right before he turned a year old. I love that kid!

There's a Hebrew prayer that is said upon experiencing something for the first time, the Shehecheyanu (שהחינו‎). I'm not particularly spiritual, but this prayer has always resonated with me:

 בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לזְּמַן הַזֶּה.

Blessed are you, Eternal God, Sovereign of the universe, who has given us life, sustained us, and helped us to reach this moment. 

Thanks for reading.

P.S. The project that has consumed a very large part of the past year isn't quite wrapped up like I had hoped it would be by now. I won't say anymore just yet (though if we've talked much in the past year you probably know about it) but it definitely introduced a whole slew of new experiences, and I am very excited to tell you about it, I hope soon!

Next Time on Owl and Raven...

Hey guys,

Quick post tonight because I'm wiped. No sleep plus eight hours on my feet makes a tired Owl. Certainly one without much in the way of coherent thought.

Tonight I wanted to share my next project for the blog. I'm planning to do a series on US history, specifically focusing on stuff a lot of us learned in high school and haven't revisited since then. Or things I think we should have learned in high school, but (at least I) didn't.

It's going to be called Citizenship 101, mostly because I think anyone who is, or wants to be, a citizen of the US should make sure to know at least the basics of how our government works and what some of the really important landmark moments in our history are. I know I will do installments on things like the country's founding, the three branches of government, a range of social issues, geography, and things of that ilk. What I would like to know is if anyone has any other suggestions or things they want to know more about. Like: why exactly did we fight the War of 1812? What made the Gilded Age gilded? Or just general areas of US history you think are important.

Let me know in comments and I will do it!



Also due to a 16 hour work day ending at 11pm tomorrow, the blog will not update. Forgive me, I have no desire to wake up at 5am to do a blog post. I'm just not that dedicated.

Until next time,
Owl

And the Number One Is....

Number One Most Insulting Country Music Song (in my opinion) is....

1. "Still A Guy" by Brad Paisley

This one makes me extra sad because I usually really like Paisley's music, but this song is insulting on so many levels that it actually made me like all his other good songs much less. This song combines some of my biggest turn-offs from mainsplaining to gender stereotyping and even a borderline sexual assault-ish line.

The song is sung by a man explaining to his girlfriend that although she may change him in some small ways he will always be who he is. That message is fine (and in fact I like songs that take the position that being in a relationship isn't about changing the other person), but the song takes it a step further and claims that he will always be "a guy". Here's where I take issue with that message: there isn't just one way to be a guy. Paisley seems to define a man as someone who fishes, hunts, doesn't understand art, and doesn't understand when his partner wants closeness but not sex.

Paisley equates getting manicures, hair highlighting, even putting lotion on your hands with getting neutered (seriously - those are the exact words he uses). That is a narrow-minded, and frankly unacceptable, viewpoint to hold in the 21st century. Being a man shouldn't have to be about being the toughest person in the room and taking pride in a rugged, un-groomed appearance. That is only one way to be a man (and frankly one way to be a woman, too). There is no blueprint or checklist for the genders. A woman doesn't have to be "feminine" to be a woman. A man doesn't have to be "masculine". In fact, I would love to get rid of those two words all together because they mean nothing to me anymore. I have a lot of female identifying friends who are tough, strong, hunting, fishing, outdoors-y folk. That doesn't make them "a guy" any more than not being those things makes you not a guy. It makes you, you.

It makes me so angry so see this message being sent out, even in country music to people who might take it to heart and get away from who they are so they can be who they think they should be.

The best excerpts from "Still A Guy"

• "when you say a backrub mean only a backrub/Then you swat my hand when I try/Well, what can I say athe end of the day/Honey, I'm still a guy"
• "I might walk your sissy dog, hold your purse at the mall/But remember I'm still a guy"
• "I don't highlight my hair/Yeah, I've still got a pair"

How are any of these things okay to say these days? They shouldn't be.

When I discover songs like this sometimes I have to take a break from country music because it reminds me that this genre is, in many ways, stuck too deeply in the past. When country music draws this strongly from its traditional southern roots I am reminded that I don't belong in that culture. That it makes me feel uncomfortable and unsafe. And most of all, it alienates me. If country musicians were smart they would realize their audience is a wide one and although their music is rooted in the past, it doesn't have to stay there.

To end this post on a happier note I'll share some of my favorite recent songs in country music - with better messages!

Country Songs With Messages I Can Get Behind (in no particular order)

1. "Follow Your Arrow" by Kacey Musgraves* (an upbeat "be yourself" anthem that is incredibly inclusive and even LGBT friendly!)
2. "Girl in a Country Song" by Maddie and Tay (about the sexism in bro-y country music)
3. "Diamond Rings and Old Bar Stools" by Tim McGraw (about a break-up)
4. "Little Toy Guns" by Carrie Underwood (about the damage angry words can have - especially in terms of the effects of parental arguing on their children)
5. "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry (a meditation on dying young...? It's hard to describe)
6. "Whiskey Lullaby" by Brad Paisley and Allison Krauss** (a story about a man and woman destroyed by alcoholism)
7. "Loving You Easy" by Zac Brown Band (pretty generic love song, but I'm really digging it at the moment)
8. "I Got the Boy" by Jana Kramer (a nostalgia-laden remembrance of young love)
9. "All Kinds of Kinds" by Miranda Lambert (about how the world needs diversity)
10. "One of the Guys" by Terri Clark (a better way to do gender - on an individual basis)

So there's my country music rant. I am off to listen to everything Kacey Musgraves ever released...

Best wishes,

Owl

*All her music is phenomenal. She is a talented lyricist and super progressive. 

** Allison Krauss (a bluegrass singer) has the most angelic voice I have ever heard.

A Confession with a Side of Rage

Here's the confession: I'm a country music fan. Surprised? I always am. I'm certainly not the demographic country music is marketed for. I am a mid-twenties Northerner from a big city who is queer, culturally Jewish, and incredibly liberal. I lived in the south for a grand total of 2 months with no intention to stay there any longer than necessary. I have serious reservations regarding southern culture in everything from politics to social issues.

But... I still enjoy country music. I like that the songs can (and often are) about little, everyday moments. I like how a lot of country music focuses on telling a story. The music has a lot of personality. So much so that Raven and I have both based scenes and characters at least in part off country songs.

I also think, contrary to what a lot of people believe, that country music can be very beautiful and even well-written. I have heard some very clever, very funny country songs that are a blast to sing along with. Which brings me to prime reason I like country music - most of the songs are largely inoffensive and fun to jam with in my car, where I consume most of my music. But there are times the songs are very offensive. Times when country music shows its roots; the ones planted firmly in the controversial past of this country.

Tonight I thought I would give you another list.... *drum roll*

Owl's Top 3 Most Offensive Country Songs 

(in descending order of offense)

3. "Girl Crush" by Little Big Town
I cannot get away from this song right now and that may be why a fairly inoffensive song is getting my number 3 spot when there are way worse songs that I know I have heard from this genre before. But right now this is a song that is getting under my skin more than any other on the radio. And guys, since most of you don't listen to country radio, let me tell you right now - this song is ALL OVER country radio. In fact, I heard it 4 times today, alone. Or the first few bars before I quickly switched stations. Once, when I tried to switch, I found two stations playing it at the same time. Ugh.

So, why do I hate this song? Well, it's a song about Girl A wanting to be like Girl B because Girl B is dating a dude who Girl A really wants to date. Maybe some of you can already see my problem... That is not the definition of a girl crush. At all. That is jealousy. With some good old-fashioned envy thrown in. It would be a girl crush if Girl A wanted to date Girl B. Or even had a little platonic infatuation going on. Who, straight or gay, hasn't been a little bit in awe of a good friend of the same gender before?

It's wouldn't really be a big deal, except the song sets it up to be like an actual queer song for the first minute or so. The opening lines are, "I got a girl crush, hate to admit it but/I got a heart rush, ain't slowin' down/ I got it real bad, want everything she has/ That smile and the midnight laugh she's givin' you now". Later lines include gems like "I don't get no sleep... thinking about her under your bed sheets... I can't get her off my mind." Then the chorus.... The terrible chorus where the singer (a woman, by the way) says she wants to "taste her lips" because they "taste like [the random dude]". Yeah, that's why I want to kiss girls...

So - what's the big deal you may ask? Seems like just a clever way to say she's jealous, right? Yeah, probably. But being queer myself these are thoughts I have had without the desire for the attached dude. This song uses lines that could describe a lesbian woman lusting after a straight woman and turns it into a straight unrequited love song. And justified or not, that makes me furious. I feel that this song steals a bit of my culture and warps it to fit the dominant culture. It feels icky and wrong to listen to words I have heard gay women say about doomed crushes they've had on straight women being used to create this sort of narrative.

I'm sure most people don't react to this song this way and I'm not even mad at Little Big Town for making the song. I'm sure they didn't even think about how this might affect actual queer folks (also I'm willing to bet not all queer folks would have my reaction). But mostly, this song makes me feel cheated. What could have been a song about an innocent infatuation with a friend or even a riskier song about a not innocent attraction to another woman was really just another way to write a straight romance. And it's clear the song wants you to think it's going to be a queer song for the first little bit (it's gotten a lot of criticism for being too gay, by the way) and that's the worst part for me. I was so excited that maybe country music would have a song for me, but it wasn't. And that hurt. More than it maybe should have, but I still can't stand to hear it. Even if I am being irrational.

2. "Way Out Here" by Josh Thompson
It was hard to determine a winner (or maybe loser) between my two top picks. This one I rated slightly lower because... I get the sentiment, though I am far from agreeing with it. I hate this song on a political basis, but there are lot of other country songs I disagree with politically but can listen to and respect on some level. This one... I can't. I won't listen to it if it's on the radio and I could only listen to about half of it before writing this post. I got so mad I had to just look up the lyrics instead. Not that those aren't rage-inducing all on their own.

This song is a man singing about how things are done "way out here", which I can only imagine means in the deep south, where much of the culture of country music originates. The songs starts out on a strong note for making me hate it. Opening lines? "Our houses are protected by the Good Lord and a gun". I'm not a big gun person, so I'm already not loving this, but country songs are full of guns and Jesus (who as a lapsed Jew I'm also not big on). So I keep listening. There's a funny line about southerners fry everything and then the chorus hits and I'm done. Here is the chorus in its entirety:

We won't take a dime if we ain't earned it

When it comes to weight, brother we pull our own

If it's our backwoods way of living you're concerned with

You can leave us alone

We're about John Wayne, Johnny Cash and John Deere

Way out here

My biggest problem is the first line of this chorus because it shows a gross ignorance of politics that is frankly incredibly damaging in this country. Just because you don't get a check from the government every month, that does not mean you aren't getting monetary support from them. Country glorifies farmers. Farmers as a group receive over 20 billion dollars in federal subsidies every year. That's a lot of dimes you haven't really earned. The US cotton industry is one of the most heavily subsidized in the world, to the detriment of emerging markets like Brazil. Just because you can't see the check, doesn't mean the money isn't there, Mr. Thompson.

The second line is equally infuriating. What he's saying is "his people" aren't a drain on the country. They pull their own weight. But I don't know who "his people" are. Many states in the deep south are very dependent on federal aid (in that they take in more than they pay out). 5 out of 10 of the most federal dependent states in the union are in the south. So, I'm not sure who you are talking about pulling their own weight, but it terms of numbers - much of the south doesn't. 

And here's where Mr. Thompson and I differ - I don't see anything wrong with that. The states on that list are some of the poorest in our country (Mississippi and Louisiana to name two) and the people who live in poverty in those states deserve to live healthy and safe lives. That is where the federal dollars go - towards keeping people safe who can't always ensure their own safety. That's not shameful - for the federal government or the people getting the help they need.

So it's not your "backwood way of living" I'm concerned with, Mr. Thompson. It's your backwards way of thinking. It's great to rely on yourself and embrace individualism, but when you suggest running the whole country "like it used to be, ought to be, just like it's done out here" I have the feeling you don't really know what you're talking about. But people are listening. And telling the government to stay out of it. To the detriment of the people who greatly need and rely on federal money.  

The last two lines just bug me because none of those folks are politicians and this is a very political song. John Wayne was asked numerous times to run for office and always declined and that's probably a good thing. Wayne isn't the political role model I'd pick. He was an unapologetic white supremacist and blamed the Native Americans for being selfish when they tried to keep their land when Europeans landed in the New World. Though Johnny Cash had a very individualistic image he also championed the cause of prisoners, addicts, and Native Americans. I can get behind that, but I'm not sure that's what Mr. Thompson is getting at. I won't even get into John Deere. They're a company interested in continuing to make money. They give money to candidates who will get that done. Nothing more. 

What offends me here is mostly the ignorance that goes along with the song. And that people will listen to this and take it as a rallying cry. People take too much at face value with the federal, and local, governments. To really understand and engage with politics it is essential to be well-informed. I don't think this song is a good example of that and I think it's an irresponsible use of celebrity that irks me a great deal - though I admit it might irk me less if I didn't vehemently disagree with the song's premise.

This is getting to be a loooong post and I have a lot to say about the last song so I will save it until tomorrow. Once my blood pressure has returned to normal. Good night all!