RIDDING THE LITTLE SCREEN OF ROSEANNE BARR: A GLIMMER OF HOPE IN THE DISTANCE

A series of essays....

FRIENDSHIP IS COLORBLIND!
OUR DAUGHTER, CORINNE, AND HER BEST FRIEND,
MICHELLE, ON A TRIP TO EUROPE

....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Racism....the deep-seated, dark, murky thing that hides under the bed, resides in the hall closet, and keeps many people awake most of the night. Popular horror and thriller author, Stephen King, got it right each time he sent millions of his readers into tears of fear or battling night sweats after experiencing his novels. According to the Washington Post, around ten percent of Mr. King's tweets and Facebook posts are political and he holds nothing back when criticizing the current leader residing in the White House. His remarks are not pretty but, they are real and from the heart. 

HIS BOOKS CAN'T HOLD A CANDLE
TO THE REAL LIFE FEAR WE KNOW
EXISTS WITHIN THE TRUMP ADMINISTRATION...

I have a feeling it isn’t always the shiny balloons, nasty looking clowns, or rabid animals that ignite our fears; often, it’s having to understand and deal with people who fail to see the beauty in others no matter what color their skin is while, at the same time, demeaning them as less than human. This is our nightmare; this should be one of our biggest concerns as we walk, breathe, work, and intermingle with others in 2018 and beyond!

The tone does start at the top.

If memory serves me well, our own parents set the tone for our deep-seated (after all, the heart is the seat of passion) beliefs that continue to live within us as thriving adults. Back in the day, we listened intently to anyone who fed and clothed us, along with various other authority figures who taught us our lessons in school, preached to us from the pulpit at Sunday morning mass, and, in theory, towered over us like giant, animated skyscrapers wielding their stone tablet lists of do’s and don’t’s. 

Please take a moment to ask yourself if you believe that the abhorrent comments, bad taste jokes, and life-threatening displays of hatred by so many people are having an insidious and damaging impact on all of us. If your answer is a profound...Yes!, a great follow-up question might be, what are we going to do about it?      

Let’s begin by admitting one thing to ourselves; the skyscraper holding the stone tablets today is more compact, unconsciously animated to the highest degree, and wields more power than even the most highly intelligent among us believed someone in his position ever could. His words and actions are inconsistent with the principle that all men and women are created equal and that each person born has a right to pursue everything and anything in this world and its societies as much as the next person. In essence, it means that no one has exclusive rights to these pursuits.

When hate is normalized at a high level and emboldened by a President who is race based himself...we have a major problem on our hands. Blinded by the incessant pain he has lived with all of his life and brought about by the dollars signs permanently embedded in his eyeballs, this poor excuse for a leader of the free world has been handed a 'one-sided' forum that he freely uses to spread his words of corruption and hate. 

He is an eager participant in the popular board game called ‘Risk’ and the fate of each person and every piece of land he scrambles to pull towards him with his grubby, little hands is hanging in the balance between life and death, rich or poor, love and hate, and right or wrong. Unfortunately, in reality, this is not a board game for us. It’s called survival. The treachery he creates, weaving harm in a manipulative manner, is far more dangerous than what seems evident to most of us on a regular basis. It’s as if we are being slowly consumed by an insidious disease and the cure is just beyond our reach.     
The racists, white supremacists, his minions or ‘base,’ follow him faithfully with the promise that they are free to hold absolutely nothing back to the tune of little or no consequences for their actions. The title of this popular song could be changed to ‘Who Let the Haters Out ?’ because this President has opened up the flood gates from Hell and the Roseannes, David Dukes, mini-Hitlers, greedy rich, and individuals who want to be able to, finally, belong somewhere in this society, have come pouring out of them. And, it’s not a pretty sight or a comfortable position to be in for the rest of the population.

Agreeing with the timely decision, made by the President of ABC, Channing Dungey, on Tuesday, to cancel the ‘Roseanne’ reboot sitcom starring Roseanne Barr, I am beginning to see a tiny sliver of hope way down at the end of this dark, claustrophobic tunnel we’ve been inhabiting for far too long. I am sad that ABC and Disney decided to take-on this project in the first place knowing who and what Roseanne stood for based upon her prior words and actions throughout the years. No matter how it is arrived at, profit is the name-of-the-game for all corporations, so, this decision comes as no surprise; she was highly marketable and the President residing in the White House today identifies with her racial slurs.

Rob Reiner, actor, producer, and writer, proposed an interesting ‘Catch 22’ challenge to Trump when he tweeted his thoughts after the demise of ‘Roseanne’ and wrote:

@robreiner
 “ABC has done the right thing. They’ve stood up against racism. It is our country’s original sin. But this is 2018 and it has no place in the hearts of decent people. Unfortunately our president has stoked these evil fires. If he doesn’t applaud ABC, he will continue to stoke evil.”

Mr. Reiner is right. If Trump tweets his support of Roseanne Barr, he will continue to stoke evil. But, I have a feeling we all know where this will go. Somehow, even this challenge will lead back to Trump himself; something he has or hasn’t done, or is about to do, or something someone else has or hasn’t done for him. Well, you know by now what I mean because it will always be about him no matter what the subject might be. What a sad, little man...

So, what are we going to do about it? In actuality, there are quite a few things we can do. And, staying silent and inactive as we wait for this ‘Crazy Train’ to, finally, leave the station is not one of them! 

For starters, we not only vote this coming mid-term election in November but, we encourage (embolden?) everyone else to do so. Talking about the categorical harm this administration is placing our country in will help bring this monstrous attack on us to light instead of keeping it in the shadows. Get involved! Speak with people who agree and disagree with you. Having both sides of a situation exposed can help everyone involved in so many ways. And, as the Brits say, “Keep Calm and Carry on” my friends.

In the meantime, the importance of finding our own, individual, purpose and means of joy in this lifetime should and must become a main priority. And, when we do, this solid platform will stabilize us, bring us closer to everyone around us, and open our eyes to the reality that we are all connected with one another...no matter the color of our skin or how we choose to love and honor a particular religion or atheistic belief.

CHILDREN DO NOT SEE IN
BLACK OR WHITE...

Feed your mind with fresh perspective. Make your voice be heard (rush to the polls this November). Discover the joy and passion in your life. Stop worrying and start living again. Remember not to allow the Boogie Man under your bed to take away your freedom or diminish the love you should have for all of the people you share this breathtaking world with. Life is too short to think, believe, or do otherwise. 

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY...OR TWO

A series of essays....

AGE OR SOLITUDE?

....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes 

Walking out of our favorite Viêtnamese restaurant one evening, we were delighted to witness the elongated, early evening shadows cast a surreal atmosphere upon the tiny parking lot behind the building. Their patron’s cars were draped in extended 'palm tree' shapes and bathed in shades of purple, pink, and cool tones of green.

Pho Vinh Restaurant, located just east of Downtown Orlando, is a part of the greater cluster of Little Saigon (Once known as Orlando’s Little Vietnam neighborhood) that exemplifies the offerings of a rather large Vietnamese population in Orlando. In the 1970s, thousands of Vietnamese war refugees fled their native land, desperately seeking a new beginning, free of political persecution for themselves and their children. Many of those refugees settled north and east of downtown Orlando and began opening businesses and revitalizing a fairly lackluster part of the city.

Literally, with one foot in the car, I turned just in time to see, what I deemed to be, a story in the making; a moment in time meant to be preserved and rejoiced in its utter simplicity. The large, plastic crate sat silently beside the paint stripped and speckled, tired looking wooden chair; its ancient ‘bones’ resting against the weathered stucco and its spirit sinking down into a mixture of asphalt shards and stones. 

A fire was lit in my belly as I clicked several shots and fantasized about the stories this chair could tell us. Was it a throwback to the original furnishings of Pho Vinh years before? How many colors possessed it during its lifetime? Did many generations of patrons sit comfortably on it as they dined on heavenly, full-flavored Pho (beef soup) or, my personal favorite, Bun Cari Ga, rice vermicelli with chicken in coconut curry broth?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MY HANDSOME 'YOUNG' FRIEND

This handsome gentleman made me laugh, feel special, and reconfirmed my faith in the sheer goodness of others...all in a span of an evening at the ballpark. 

Sitting at ESPN’s Wide World of Sports at Disney World, watching the Detroit Tigers and the Atlanta Braves play a preseason game, we were freezing as the temperature dropped into the unseasonable low 40’s. “Do you want to be on the Big Screen?” he asked. “We could be if we wave at the cameraman together!” He proceeded to make me laugh throughout the game with his warm sense of humor and boyish charm. I asked him about himself and he wasn’t shy about telling me. We conversed, often leaning into one another to hear our voices, as we looked straight ahead and watched each play of the game. 

About the time my teeth began chattering in my head, his son brought him a fresh cup of coffee from the concession stand below. He asked if I’d like a sip to warm me up before he drank the steaming brew himself. Kindly thanking him, I did opt for holding the cup in my cold hands for a few minutes; his suggestion. 

We said good-bye knowing we’d never set eyes on one another again. That didn’t matter in the least. We fulfilled our destiny as predetermined by the heavenly stars above and all was good and balanced in the world.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHANNELING THE MONA LISA

Here’s looking at you, kid! 

I purchased this lovely ceramic, pedestal vase twenty years ago at an antique shop in Orlando. She has never complained about watching over the interior of our home in all this time and I have similar plans for her in Kalamazoo. 

Her Mona Lisa smile and glaring eyes caught me off guard one morning upon entering the formal dining room where her crackled, shining face was spotlighted in the morning sun. I believe she was telling us that it was okay to move her up north. She was more than ready to take on her new position and set of challenges beside us at Hazel Avenue!

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A COLORFUL GATE
FOR A COLORFUL 'PRIVATE' GARDEN

Intricate, iron gates painted in cool jewel tones always intrigue me, especially while traveling in Europe! They represent the keepers of secrets, the personal lives of others, and, in this case, a private garden to be observed only from behind its closed presence. 

The beautiful stone house that resides near the garden made me think of writers and poets looking down from upper windows, drifting in thought between one sentence, one line, to the next; enjoying a brief interlude from their important work at hand.

Then, I imagined looking out from the stone paths, the bold greenery, and drifting shadows within the garden....at myself, the women standing, camera in hand, looking in at this private world and politely stealing one or two frames for herself; enough memory to take back home to Florida and cherish for a lifetime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WATCHING TINY FOUNTAINS ARISE
FROM THE POOL

Looking out on the pool has become a habit these days due to the enormous amount of rainfall Florida has been experiencing lately. The raindrops sift through the screen enclosure and still manage to hit the water with great intensity, plunging in deeply and creating craters that spring back up as if they were small fountains rising up to the sky. Mesmerizing!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

These pictures, obviously taken by others, represent the future of mankind; a greater entity than any single one of us, launched by varying circumstances far beyond our control. When strong, positive individuals from all over the world begin to breathe together as one, inhale more energy and strength than we’ve seen for many years, and then exhale their power in one unified breath...you know that something wonderful is about to change the world as we know it!

BEAUTIFUL AND PROUD
MOTHER OF THE BRIDE

                                            Picture courtesy CNN

Mother of the Bride, Doria Ragland, looks on with love and pride as her daughter, Meghan Markle, marries Prince Harry before God, Great Britain, and the Queen as the rest of the world tags along. She is beautiful. She is strong. She represents an ever changing philosophy sweeping the world in that women can stand alone and be strong, vibrant, and contributing members of any society. Why on earth would we ever have believed otherwise?

"NOW LET'S GO GET IT DONE!"

                             Picture courtesy NBC News

Something exciting happened in Georgia this past Tuesday! This soft-spoken, intelligent, and amazing lady won the Democratic bid for Governor of the State of Georgia with the mid-term elections to be held this November. Stacey Abrams brings along her charismatic, cherubic smile as she speaks about being ‘part of the resistance’ in her bid to become the first black female governor in the United States.

NBC News quotes Ms. Abrams after the gubernatorial primary win, “We are writing the next chapter of Georgia history, where no one is unseen, no one is unheard and no one is uninspired," Abrams told supporters in Atlanta Tuesday night at her victory party. "Now let's go get it done." 

Old, white, greedy conservative candidates be advised; there are young, brilliant, and diversified competitors out there who know what they’re talking about. And, it’s about time we listen to them!

"BROTHERS AND SISTERS"

                                    Supplied by Pixel8000

How refreshing to know that there are Christian leaders in this world who pride themselves on delivering common sense messages and spreading the true ‘word’ of God, Love, along to others. Christian leaders who are diversified and pledge to blend the variety of ethnicity in terms of skin color, gender, class, and cultures in order to strengthen the bonds between all of mankind. Reading from his i-Pad, Michael Curry, presiding Bishop and Primate of the Evangelical Church, brought the house down with his passionate, twelve minute speech about the Power of Love.

“When love is the way, we will lay our swords and shields down by the riverside to study war no more.

"When love is the way, there's plenty good room, plenty good room for all of God's children.

"Because when love is the way, we actually treat each other, well, like we're actually family."

Bishop Curry...you have renewed my faith in religious leaders who truly believe in the age-old message of spreading Love and healing vibes to all of us weary souls who nearly gave-up on thinking that you even existed anymore within this sharp-edged world we live in. Keep spreading your message. Keep offering us Hope. You are a Joy and a Treasure for all of us! And, we thank you.

IT'S ALL ABOUT 'LOVE'

                                               PA Press Association

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

THE RAIN WILL DO THAT TO YOU: DRIFT FROM ONE THOUGHT TO ANOTHER, IN A MELANCHOLY MOOD

A series of essays.....

THE BOXES MAY BE GROWING INTO A FORT-LIKE FACADE....
YET, AS I LOOK AROUND, NOTHING SEEMS TO BE DEPLETED!
 

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Gloomy daytime showers persist outside the sliding glass doors on this saturated weekday morning. Hundreds of gentle reminders of our past and present life remain haphazardly scattered around the house we’ve called home for two decades. Lurking are the mementos, reminders of a large chapter in this Book of Life that has taken two people through so many years of love, laughter, tears, and joy. 

Occasionally, this particular dish (chapter) has been spiced-up with certain trials and tribulations designed to perplex the main dining guests as much as possible. If you know me at all, it would be like realizing that the chef has put way too much garlic into the recipe and is waiting around to see if I relish it or choke after the first bite. Cruel, so cruel.

While my husband spent the weekend working outside on his list of things that we’ve ignored for far too long, I was indoors constructing a cardboard fort in the family room. Each carefully filled rectangle or square rising higher and higher in the room, blue ink scribbles indicating content and future placement of each tan building block at our new home! My humble attempt at being as organized as possible throughout this process.

RAINDROPS POUND THE POOL DECK WITH
THEIR STEADY RHYTHM FOR HOURS AND HOURS

Rumble, rumble....lightening and thunder have recently joined ranks with the consistent rainfall outside. Gradually, the swimming pool fills and nearly exceeds its liquid capacity. Malnourished appearing squirrels (typical looking Florida squirrels) race across the top of the screen enclosure sending torrents of rainwater down into the pool and simulate the sound of erratic gunshots as the fluid stalactites fall sharply into the standing water, harmonizing with the constant rumblings in the atmosphere above.

I fell off of the white, kitchen step stool Saturday afternoon. Can you hear a tree fall in the forest? Well, you can if you happen to be that tree! It was painful and quite a shock to my system. Dan was outside mowing the small square of lawn we call our ‘greenspace’ in the backyard, north of the pool. He wasn’t there to help pick me up. Unusual. Once I determined that the left wrist wasn’t broken, my heart stopped racing like an Indy car in May. I forgot I was on the second step and tumbled backwards; my left side abruptly merging with the little, brown ottoman. The three board games and box of loose dominoes I was extracting from the cupboard came cascading down around me in slow motion.  Left side sore but not enough to deter me from the task at hand. Feeling very fortunate...

We keep telling one another how lucky we are. We could have a basement in this house and we do not. Unless you can build on the side of a hill and create a walk-out, not many Floridian homes have what people up north call basements or cellars. If we did...it would be full of stuff, too. Instead we have a small storage area in the garage attic space. The last time I looked, it was filled to the brim.

Boxes, packing supplies, and memories are in abundance within these four stuccoed walls as we get painfully serious about this inevitable move. The most difficult part for me has been extracting personal items from each room. Familiar shapes linger in the fine dust where family photos, hockey pucks and figurines, and golfing trophies once resided on shelves. Note To Self: Dust! Vague outlines of picture frame backs that have brushed the painted walls for years must be wiped off, covered up, or repainted. The culprits, with their handsome grins and smart looking clothes, are gently bubble wrapped, boxed, and added to the fort’s growing facade.

Taking a break from all of this tomorrow. I have a dentist appointment at one o’clock that will break my day into two parts. Soon, within a few days, I will be meeting Lea, a long, lost friend, to enjoy lunch and conversation together in Cocoa Village. She is such an amazing lady with so much energy and panache. When I grow-up, I would like to be just like Lea.

"HURT YOUR EYES ORANGE!"

I’m cutting bubble wrap that is as bright orange as the company’s own logo. Seriously, hurt your eyes orange! I assume they don’t want you to become complacent within your humble surroundings while wrapping up all of your precious memories!

The intricately cut, Waterford crystal vase Dan gave to me on our twenty-fifth Wedding Anniversary is quite bedazzling wrapped in its orange, Michelin-like coat. Stay safe, memories. 

Dan officially retires, after a lifetime in the building and construction industry, on June 1, 2018. I have yet to look...is it on a Monday, a Friday? I’m sure it will be a Friday. In this industry, you tend to work for so many different companies throughout your career. Dan is no exception. Roger B. Kennedy, Inc., his latest employer, will take him out to lunch and wish him a grand life in retirement. They mean well. They didn’t know Dan through the formal years of accumulative knowledge that was built on year after year, one job site after another. But, they did reap the benefits of his esteemed knowledge (the cream on the top) these past few years. The way I look at it, Roger B. Kennedy was the truly lucky one in this case.

DAN VISITING ONE OF HIS JOBS
LOCATED IN ORLANDO

I will never take all that you have done for us as a family for granted, Dear Heart; through the good times and the, well, not so good times, too. Someday I will have to write about your bravery and tenacity. It will be an interesting story!

I can tell you this, if I do have ‘memory’ in my genetic material, it must be in the form of instinct that travels far back into my European ancestry. Looking out at the pouring rain makes me feel that I’ve been here many times before. The women in my past have all felt the way I do, nomadic and vulnerable...with raindrops representing our tears, and the knowledge that breaking down one ‘nest’ only represents having to build another. And, my inherent behavior isn’t necessarily dependent upon experience and yet, somehow, a certain presence fulfills my basic need to be happy, loved, and feel whole and appreciated.

Together, we will (and have) survived just about anything; with or without the blessing of our own children. 

Let the Floridian rain pour down and, with its cleansing powers, wash over us as we create change and, hopefully, conquer any pitfalls along our journey. Get us through the next few months of dependency upon others and trust in the system and help us sell our house here with minimum negativity. ***My little prayer to St. Joseph these days. 

Another deprived looking squirrel hammers along the top screens of the pool enclosure sending large sprays of water in every direction. My thoughts turn back to the job at hand and another vase is wrapped and tucked away deep into the packing paper lined box.

IT WILL NEVER BE A 'ROCKING CHAIR'
FOR US. I WILL SETTLE FOR A COMFORTABLE
SEAT SURROUNDED BY LOTS OF LOVE!

Chuckling, I think about a specific mantra I created many years ago after moving to Orlando. “Nothing ever dies here; it just comes back to life all on its own, eventually!” Naturally, I was thinking about the flowers, shrubs, and trees. That which withers and turns brown will and does return to a green, healthy state down here! But, I often wonder if it applies to humans, as well. Curiously, this could be why so many retirees move here. Oh, they say it’s all about the sun filled, blue skied days. Maybe we can take some of this Florida Magic up north with us. After being constantly exposed to it for over twenty odd years, it may have become ‘memory’ within my genetic material by now!

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

EVEN IN 2018, WOMEN CAN BE THEIR OWN WORST ENEMIES AND OTHER PERSONAL THOUGHTS

 A series of essays....

     
      Photo Courtesy: sheknows



....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

It’s a fact that laughter is a universal form of communication. So, as I sit here alone and  laughing, tears beginning to roll down my face, I realize that I am sending out, into the atmosphere of tension, numerous mixed messages. You see....I am a woman of a certain age and have lived through (and survived) the mind-blowing attitude that women are subservient to men. And, I know that it’s in a woman’s DNA to process this information and make everything work out for everyone else involved, often excluding herself. 

Unfortunately, I know first-hand that women, even in 2018, are their own worst enemies. Let me explain...

For eons it has been pounded into our heads that women are secondary (at best) citizens, forever born to stand behind the men who will love, protect, and lead them into the Promised Land! Provided, of course, that women adhere to their rules and regulations. Women have been threatened via fear since the beginning of time. Females have been portrayed as the ‘weaker sex,’ both mentally and physically, for so long that it has been indelibly tattooed on their brains and psyche and, far too often, women have accepted this label as fact. 

Yes, we feared being alone, having to live in poverty, not being able to protect our children, and even damnation itself if we did not adhere to the laws of the men who ruled and lorded over us. Mostly, we feared ourselves, our own bodies and sexuality, and tapped into the idea that if we capitalized on our sexuality and intelligence we would not only damn ourselves, but take good men down with us. The ‘Me Too’ movement has been enlightening, however, my Catholic upbringing will forever haunt me with shadows of guilt, lost opportunities of happiness, and sabotaged personal progress. 

You can argue that circumstances have evolved and this idea of being poor, downtrodden females is just a ghost of a thought that’s blowing away along with the winds of change. But, has it really? I believe this wind is more like a slight breeze instead.

Women continue to second guess themselves in an age when we should be supporting one another and making-up for lost time, if you will. Many of the men who happen to surround me today, including my husband, have become important support engines for all women and honor our independence by placing women on an even plane within their own personal and working relationships. God bless all of them! You know who you are.

And yet, it’s women who continue to upset the 'balance of life' by not accepting independent thought and equality among one another. Not only must strong women have to fight for the right to compete with men on a level playing field, but they are realizing that their competition includes many other women who continue to fail all of us by, simply, not believing in their own independence and personal power.

I was not encouraged to express myself at home while growing up. I did it anyway and, often, paid the price for my words and actions. Because life didn’t always work out for my own father, he could be a bully and take out his frustrations on my mother, and in time, on me. He was of a generation that believed it was, is, and will always be a man’s world and that women, like children, were to be seen and not heard. Higher education was meant for his sons and not for his daughter because what a waste of time and money when, “All she will do is get married and have babies to raise, anyway.” This attitude served to encourage my voice; give me strength to challenge this belief in a loud cadence that followed me through college, marriage, and, eventually, having my own children to love and raise.

The Mother that I am today is the direct result of my own, dear Mother. She was a product of the 1920’s who grew up in poverty, digested the ramifications of WWII, and by the time she was a housewife in the ‘50’s with four children of her own, her lifestyle included fear and subservience, to a certain degree. She was never taught to drive a car and I often believed her independence suffered greatly because of this. 

I loved my Mother deeply and would do anything for her. She was my ‘rock’ for many reasons. She always loved my three brothers and me and tried to do what was best for us even though her life was far from ideal. As we were growing up, we witnessed her joy, pain, and disappointment and knew that she often made delicious lemonade out of a basketful of lemons. I know that I became a stronger person by learning from all of her ‘life lessons’ and, being her only daughter, that was very important for both of us.

By the time I had my own girls in the ‘70’s, Dan and I consciously spoke to them as being small adults who had sense and supported, if not encouraged, the idea that they would exercise common sense within their daily lives as time progressed. For myself, the lessons in ‘common sense usage’ went far beyond anything else I could teach them. 

There was never anything ‘off limits’ and we, as parents, encouraged our two daughters to talk with us about everything and with absolutely no limitations. Being honest with us at all times was of utmost priority because we would always be honest with them. We inspired them to dream big without any gender limitations. They felt as comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt as they did in a dress and shiny, patent leather shoes on Easter Sunday. Even so, there were many barriers for them that had yet to be broken down, trashed, and replaced by new and powerful dreams.

Even when you believe you’ve done your job well, the results of your labor can surprise you. Many women of my own generation, along with those that followed us, have not been able to fight off the stigma of being suspicious of one another. We still comment in a negative light about our looks and self-esteem, judge how successful in life we think we are based on money and fame, display the merits of our children as if they were trophies on a shelf, and discount the true need to feel comfortable with each other. We have, to this day failed to simply learn how to TRUST other women. And this attitude has made us fail in electing a strong, intelligent, and highly qualified woman as President of the United States!

When and what will it take to make women feel comfortable with other women and allow their comfort to elect other women to more political offices, executive roles in business, so that we can balance out the playing field and feel comfortable in our own skin, earn equal pay with men, and advance as leaders and role models for everyone without fear of gender recrimination? We, as women, are responsible for this change. Women control their own destinies just as men have controlled their own destiny for millenniums! We can do it if the desire, strength, trust, and camaraderie exists among us.

‘The 2018 United State of Women Summit’ was recently held in Los Angeles and featured the common sense views of Michelle Obama. “We’re still taught to be perfect and to dream about weddings and the security of Prince Charming. I wish that girls could fail as badly as men do and still be okay. Men blow it up and still win. Women hold ourselves to certain standards. If we want our daughters to dream bigger than we did, we have more work to do. We made it to ‘the table’ but now....we have to be willing to take some risks. If we, initially, fail, we pick ourselves back up and start over again until we win. We, as women, tend to shame/blame each other. We need support from other women in order to be an advocate of change.” Thank you, Michelle, for your insight and courage to step outside of the box, stir things up, and make change happen.

Hope. That’s all we need to make change happen. We hope that all women will, eventually, recognize themselves as strong individuals. Many men, whether raised this way or having come around to seeing that women play an equal role in our society, are out there, cheering us on. The challenges in front of women remain great and our work to combat these challenges is a never ending story. As long as there is Hope, the earth will rumble and the barriers will come tumbling down, brick by brick, stone by stone. We must learn to honor one another and not be pulled apart by suspicion, guilt, or lack of trust. We must stop being our own worst enemies from this point on.

I want to wish ALL WOMEN a Happy Mother’s Day this Sunday! We are all nurturers in our own right, whether it be to our own children and grandchildren, step children, adopted children, family and friends, our beloved pet children....we are strong and loving humans who desire to bring joy into the lives of others, in the best way we know how. Equal wishes to all of the men who carry out the important roles of parenting within the realm of single parenting and more... Love to us all!

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

"I'M WEIGHTLESS HERE....!"

A series of essays....

SMARTPHONE PLACED TO CAPTURE EACH TUMBLE, TWIST, AND TURN!

....as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Observing children growing like oak tree saplings from year to year should be enough to
embrace even the coldest heart with a certain warmth and fill it with encouragement and the possible belief in one’s own future happiness and well being.

When these children happen to personally relate to you with a prefix as ‘grand’ and magnificent as their beautiful, shining faces bathed in the glow of a full, summer’s moon...they are the most endearing human beings that will ever walk this amazing planet! Grandchildren: such mysterious wonders linking us, personally, with the future and the past.

Upon all of my various trips to the Emerald Isle, sweet Ireland...I’ve felt a certain sensation of, not only love, but the realization that when I’m walking the rolling, green fields and narrow, stone paths I feel no earthly pressures. My body is featherlight and worries seem a million miles away. I am weightless here. 

If I could accurately describe my feeling of floating in complete detail, it would be how I felt after climbing up to the summit of Diamond Hill / Binn Ghuaire, a craggy, little mountain located in Connemara National Park. The view from this height takes in Kylemore Abbey and the sun-sparkled shades of blue that make up the waters of Ballynakill Harbour, the bay far below. 

It may have been the sheer height itself or being able to look down upon the great beauty of land and sea that affected me so deeply. I felt I could walk off the side of the mountain and there would be no earthly, gravitational consequences, whatsoever! Being so high and feeling the frosty wind on my face made me believe I was as weightless as a soaring bird riding a thermal highway. I was as weightless as an opaque cloud casting my shadow upon the sun-drenched landscape far below. Absent of the strife of daily stress and strain, a body in free fall, uniquely relieved of the pressure of floors, scales, hatred, work, racism, and deniers of all shapes and kinds.

Yesterday, I felt this sensation of weightlessness once again. My granddaughter and I were FaceTiming and she was floating right in front of me, on the i-Pad screen resting on my lap, and I was the observer residing in the small, rectangular screen below her. It occurred to me as she tumbled on the trampoline executing her intricate gymnastic maneuvers, hands free, with a huge smile on her beautiful face, that we both were relieved of the pressures of this world...even for a few moments. We were, indeed, weightless here....together in time!

What fun to be able to see my own reactions to her airborne talents in real time! A grandmother’s point of view of visual amazement; the perspective of a proud grandma. 

Brenna celebrates her eleventh year on this earth the seventeen of May. The following is a tribute to this sweet, young lady, my firstborn grandchild, who never fails to genuinely care about others, brighten our world with her smile, and exude goodwill and love to everyone she comes in contact with. But, most of all, she has the ability to make me feel, absolutely, weightless just thinking about her.

A STUDY IN COLOR AND BLACK & WHITE

I'M WEIGHTLESS HERE....!"

                                

She’s not like most female birds in that

her bright, brilliant colors can, and do,

outshine most males. From this position,

she radiates healthiness, rapture. So thinks 

the woman behind the curtain way down below, 

admiring her from afar. Priceless gifts of youth 

and energy flow from within the girl 

as the woman’s expressions lay bare her pride.

Cheeky views of ruffled feathers float within a 

backdrop of azure blue and flash across the little 

screen. Smartphone strategically placed to capture 

each and every bounce, twist, turn of her

acrobatic precision; from one so young. Briefly,  
this youthful energy reminds the woman of her own
childhood so long ago...! Back when the woman played 

cowboys and Indians with her older brother

with King-Shot air rifle and a headdress of brightly colored 

feathers. The getaway horse comprised of chipped, blue paint, 

silver spokes, and a shiny bell rung by a finger of choice.

This modern child resides in a brand new world 

filled with a healthy balance of competition 

and play. The woman encourages the girl to flip one 

more time in order to snap it with her device as she

observes ‘sweet and goofy’ with every click.

Oh, beautiful one, the woman thinks to herself, what pure 

joy to capture this moment in time. How is it 

eleven years have flown by? I am weightless here while 

watching you fly away up into the future.

Little bird, won’t you, please, take me with you? I promise 

only to observe while snapping a million more memories...

"SWEET"

"GOOFY"

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

Photos Copyright 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved