Soul Woman

My first day or two at my new school as a brand new teacher and one of the other teachers is trying to be helpful, I think.


She says to me: I don’t know if anybody has mentioned to you that there aren’t a lot of people of color at this school…

This IS Vermont, right? So of course there aren’t a lot of people of color in this small town at this small school in Central Vermont. This school is 1/3 the size of the school where I student taught and worked as a paraprofessional last year. There were only a handful of us at that school. So I kind of figured this school would be even less diverse – if there is such a thing.

Then, I saw the school was seeking a girls’ middle school basketball couch. I inquired of the Athletic Director as to the time commitment and responsibilities of the position. I swear he was salivating – a Black woman inquiring about basketball. He couldn’t get out fast enough a date for a quick interview. It reminded me of a silly movie 20 years ago entitled Soul Man. Some guy dyes himself Black so he could get accepted into Harvard Law School under a Blacks only scholarship. When he goes to participate in a pick-up game of basketball, the two teams literally fight over who will get him. And he is a terrible basketball player. It was one in a string of hilarious stereotypes gone wrong.

I don’t got game. I know nothing of basketball. But since it’s a small school I thought it was a wonderful way to get involved, build relationships, have fun, and become more physically active. I planned to work on basic fundamentals. After a couple of days of snickering when I passed him in the halls, I finally confessed to the athletic director. He still wanted to meet with me. I believe his thinking is that an inexperienced woman might be a little better than a male parent for girl’s basketball. I had my first interview which went very sell. Second interview this week.  We shall see…



If I do take the position, when and if offered, I may just have to be concerned about parents and fans.

Mo Don't Wear No Flip Flops

Those were Mark’s words when I sent him a picture of flip flops Mo could wear in the house instead of his shoes.  Although I didn’t think they were his style, I thought he might like the fact that they were a name brand. 

I had offered to get him slippers or slip-ons, but TJ Maxx didn’t have them.  I knew whatever I found would need to be trendy in “gear”, Mo is very particular.  He told me he’d wear some Air Jordans – I didn’t even know they made Air Jordan slippers.  I’m going to have to look on eBay. Mo is always concerned with how he’s dressed. This is the guy who wore a jersey and matching sneakers to our engagement party.  Maybe he’s never been to an engagement party before, but a jersey and sneakers?

Mo is one of Mark’s best friends from Connecticut and has been staying with us for a month now. He originally planned to stay 3 or 4 days, but decided he might move here if he could find employment. I already told him, I want the room he is in rented in August – by him or student from the local college. Apparently he needs a change of pace. He’s been here several times previously, but apparently the timing is right for him now to possibly make a move. I get the feeling he’s trying to avoid one of his baby mamas… 

We live on a farm and no matter what we do to contain our animals, they are always getting loose. So we have pig shit, dog shit, cat shit, alpaca shit, chicken shit, goat shit, and sheep shit all over the place.  I try and warn people that we take our shoes off in the mudroom upon entering the house so we don’t track shit everywhere.  Mo has had some trouble heeding that warning, hence me offering to get him some house shoes.

Anyway, it will be interesting to see how well Mo fits in here. The mall in Burlington can’t really rival the malls in Connecticut or even Western Mass.  This is what he's wearing today.  His jean are apparently the same brand...

He already asked me where to find a "good place" to buy clothes and sneakers. “Not Walmart, but Black people’s clothes”.  Come on Mo, you know this is Vermont. I suggested TJ Maxx or Marshalls in Burlington.  Mark keeps telling him he’s a farmer now and seems to think he’s going to find himself a white girl and move into a trailer. Whenever Mark says that, Mo just shakes his head and chuckles.

“I know these dude's ballin, and yeah that's nice
And they gon' keep callin' and tryin'
But you stay right, girl
But when you get on, he leave yo' ass for a white girl

Get down girl, go 'head get down”

Drinking In Rural Vermont

In rural Central Vermont, there aren’t a lot of bars where one can hang out. People I know that drink alcohol, drink at home, or drive to a more populated area to imbibe, on occasion. So unless you notice what people are buying at the store, you might never know they drink alcohol– or how much. I was at the store the other day to buy a beer and a woman is watching me walk in. when I greet her, she asks me if I’m the new Health Teacher (more about that in later post). I explain I’m student teaching at the local school. Her daughter speaks ups and says that she will have me next semester. So after talking a few minutes I go to the back of the store and hide…until they leave. The last thing I need is for a 7th grader to tell everyone in school that she saw me at the store buying beer! I already stick out and don’t want to stick out for that too. I work at a hospital part-time since I went back to school... a patient came in that had recently been admitted to the hospital for vaginal bleeding, tremors, headaches, nausea and vomiting. Her diagnoses included alcohol-induced hepatitis. Her photo ID showed a woman who had full cheeks. In person, physically she was gaunt with facial lesions and looked to be about 60 years old. We are the same age! Her discharge papers indicated that she regularly drank 3-4 bottles of wine per day.

I went online to research conditions and diseases associated with drinking. They include liver disease, pancreatic disease, cardiovascular disease, gastrointestinal problems, neurological disorders, reproductive disorders, cancer, and psychiatric issues. Not to mention the social issues (like hiding in the back of the store to buy a beer). check out this picture http://www.infowise101.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/alcohol-effects2.jpg
I naturally thought about my drinking habits and although it would be wonderful to lose some weight, I don’t want to be in her position. When my husband called and asked me to pick up some beer on the way home – I emphatically replied "hell no". He thinks I've lost my mind...

I think I got the message about drinking.

“When you know better, you do better” Maya Angelou

Do Black People Camp?

When we moved to Vermont in May 2009, everyone we met had plans on going "to camp". It's some kind of 'thing' in Vermont. Everyone does it. They either rent or have a 'spot' where they always go. Some stay at camp for the summer, with those that work commuting from camp. Others go on weekends. And others go pitch a tent somewhere for a week every summer. But everyone in Vermont seems to "camp".

This year on Celebrity Apprentice, one of the challenges was to create a camping experience with motor homes. There were five Black celebrities: Little John, a rapper; Star Jones previously on The View; Nene Leakes some kind of reality star; LaToya Jackson, Michael Jackson's sister; and Dionne Warwick, singing legend. All the Black celebrities were of some means and all said some version of "I'm Black, I don't know anything about camping." Oprah had a special about camping in Yosemite, and asked the same question about Blacks camping.

I'm really into knitting and weaving and was introduced last year to the idea of Knit Camp. Knit Camp is going to a campsite for the weekend and hanging out while you knit.

It all seemed a bit too rustic to me. Who wants to empty their bladder or bowels in the woods? Not me. I really enjoy the concept of running water and toilet paper. Plus there are wild animals in the woods.

I do know Black people who camp, but camping is something I didn't think I would ever do. I really enjoy modern amenities too much. But I thought I would try it, especially since my husband Mark was interested in going as well. So last summer I signed us up for a weekend of camping – let me rephrase two days and one night of camping. First we had to ensure we had the accoutrements for camping. I checked with some folks and looked online to see how to prepare. We needed bedding which could include a tent, lights, eating and cooking implements, food appropriate for camping, bug spray, personal grooming items, the list goes on. I found out we would be in a lean to, which is basically an elevated open shelter. I went up early and picked out a lean to with some privacy. Don't ask me why – we are in the woods! But when I arrived I noticed there were no showers, and the toilets were a number of yards away. Also, there was no lighting. NO LIGHTING, so once it got dark it would be PITCH BLACK! But Mark would be there to protect me, right?

So we planned on taking my Jeep, but we had way too much stuff and decided to take our dog Dekken. So we took the truck so all out stuff could go in the bed. Because I felt the need to have a barrier between me and the outdoors, I purchased a very large tarp to cover the lean to opening. We decided to take the air mattress and a bunch of blankets instead of buying a tent.

I also purchased some chairs for hanging by the fire and off we went. We first stopped at the Hunger Mountain Coop. I wanted to get Fat Toad Farm Chevre and some crackers to share as munchies. While there, they had pre-cooked sweet and spicy wings that seemed perfect for our afternoon meal. We also picked up a pork loan which could easily be cooked on the fire outside our lean to. Plus some biodegradable wipes for personal grooming. We didn't have a small chest so we stopped at yet another store for a chest and ice to keep our beer and other beverages clean and cold. While I was in the store Mark was supposed to watch our items in the bed of the truck and Dekken. Apparently I took too long, so he came in to find me. When we returned to the truck and I got in the front seat, guess where our wings (for lunch) were? Dekken had devoured them! Lesson learned, right? So we finally make it the campsite after arguing about whose fault it was that w didn't have wings. We unloaded our things and proceeded to hang around the main campsite for the rest of the day chatting, knitting and eating. It was very nice, even if the composting closet was 50 yards away.

Dekken behaved, even with another dog along. We even went down to the lake, which Dekken promptly jumped into. He loved it although it was way too cold for humans. And we met a very nice couple who included the only other male in our group.

Did I mention my husband is a pyromaniac? Although there was a constant fire going at the main campsite, Mark insisted on having a fire as well at our little site, all day and all night long…

Then it was bed time. I had several flashlights that we used to get back to our lean to, and get ready for bed. We chained Dekken to the lean to so he wouldn't run off. In an adjacent site, which we couldn't see but could definitely hear, they were having what sounded like a young Christian retreat based on the songs, and other sounds. It was a lot of stimulation for Dekken, who behaved fairly well. But after clanking the chain one too many times, Mark decided to put him in the truck, with our leftover pork loin…however, Mark assured me that the food was appropriately secure. The dark atmosphere wasn't too bad except for the noises. There was an indistinguishable animal sound that Mark said was probably a moose. Who knows but it freaked me out. Unfortunately I was getting up every hour to empty my bladder against the side of the lean to due to all the beer I had consumed. Mark snored while I lay wide awake with one of our lanterns burning not so brightly. But we survived the night.

I had planned our breakfast to include the left over pork loin and eggs. Mark went to the car to let Dekken out and get our breakfast when I heard him swear, loudly. Guess who got into the food, again! Why didn't Dekken get into the chips and other junk food instead? Our neighbors (the nice couple) had mercy on us and shared their bacon and coffee. All in all, it wasn't a bad couple of days. In fact, we are planning to go back this year. I guess we're campers. Wish us luck!

Farming and Loss

My brother-in-law Charles died just before Christmas. Although he had a chronic illness, his death was unexpected and tragic. He was a young active man with a beautiful family. There were a lot of arrangements to be made as a result of his death; people to notify, the obituary to be written, papers to gather, a public memorial to plan. He left behind a lovely wife, my sister, and a beautiful baby girl, my beautiful niece Sydney. Tragic. I am sad.

My husband called me at work to tell me the angora rabbits were dead. I was speechless with what I can only describe as grief. Another loss. The dog got into the garage, where they were housed and terrorized them. The dog had been in the garage many many times before. When he goes in with me, I have him sit by the door. He knows to go "out" when told. This time, he apparently wanted to play with them. He jumped into their cage and they got out and he played with them until they died, probably from being scared to death.

I have been responsible for the rabbits, the cats and the dog for awhile. I fed them, cleaned out their cages, switched out their water when it froze, and made sure they got to the doctor when needed. Rabbits get ear mites very easily, so two of them were on medicine. I had been thinking of selling (for a very low price) the angoras for months. They are a lot of work. You should trim their fur/hair/fibre every few months. I didn't do so well at that. But they were my babies. But I thought someone else could give them a better quality of life. I always felt badly that they were in cages. But we didn't want a bunch of unplanned babies nor did we want them to be subject to predators. So they were caged. Little did we know that they would meet their demise by their big brother dog.

We have dealt with death on our little farm previously. When we acquired our first chicks, we also were going through a trial adoption of two dogs. Ginger & Spice were two lab mutts. They were cute as can be and black as the night. We had to give them back for a number of reasons, one of which is when they got lose they ran off. We are on a state highway and it was a recipe for disaster. But before we gave them back, they got into the chicken coop. One chick died and one was injured, but survived. That wasn't too bad. Then, we acquired two sheep and two goats. We hadn't had them long when my husband called me at work and told me one of the goats he found on its back with its legs in the air. I thought he was joking. He rubbed the goat and got it back on its feet and it seemed to be ok. However, the goat did die later that day. There was no explanation, the vet thought it might be failure to thrive. Everyone else seemed ok and are doing well a year and a half later. Then there were the two pigs that we raised for meat. Mark had to shoot them before we took them to the butcher. The first one went down quickly. The second one took 4 bullets (really only three since Mark missed once). He screamed and ran and finally fell. I didn't care for that, but was never close to the pigs since I knew they would be a meal soon.

Who do you call and what do you say to people when you lose a farm animal. I didn't want to call my mother. She is already scared of the dog and would probably never visit again. Do I call my sisters who enjoyed the rabbits? They are already dealing with another with the loss of Charles and taking care of the business of his estate. Do I tell my co-workers? They might not understand. So, we just deal with it.

I keep thinking about the poor rabbits who should have been safe and were completely defenseless from the dog. I am sad.

Does VT Celebr8 BHM? IDK. But they do like the VDay Phntm

I've searched through the publications in the area and couldn't find any Black History Month (BHM) programs. But there sure was buzz about the Valentine Phantom- An odd, harmful, silly local lore... It was on the front page of the local paper. http://www.timesargus.com/article/20100215/NEWS01/2150337 Anyway, I didn't even realize it was BHM until NPR announced a program was sponsored by Annie E Casey Foundation in honor of BHM. Also, CNN had on another Black in America segment. And I watched a provocative short on HBO entitled Red Eye about how Black men are viewed through the lens of different perspectives.

I subscribe to the school of thought that Black History (and Native People's History and Mexican History) should be an integrated part of our society, not relegated to a particular month of the year. Besides, February has a lot of other distractions like the Olympics, Lent and as my coworkers declare, American Idol. I love the Olympics. It's the ultimate sporting event; a celebration of cultures and countries and sports. The pageantry and spectacle of it all is amazing. Plus the back stories of some of the Olympians are quite interesting. And yes, even in the Winter Olympics, there are some Black folk in there. Just last night there was an adorable young Australian ice skater whose father was Chinese and mother was Black (from Louisiana). And the night before one of the female bobsledders from Canada was Black.

Then Mark is driving down the interstate going home from a quick home improvement job and gets pulled over by a state trooper. Mark drives a late model red Dodge Ram truck with CT plates (no we haven't changed them over yet) and his records aren't quite straight. When the trooper approaches the driver's side, Mark asked him what the problem was. The trooper responded that he wanted his autograph. Mark is tall, 6 foot 5 inches tall. So he "excuse me" to the trooper. The trooper responded, "come on Mike. I know who you are. I just want your autograph for my kid." Mark responds that he is mistaken about who he is. The trooper laughs and says "I know you're Michael Jordan, I just want a quick autograph". Then a call comes over the radio and the trooper shoved the booklet at Mark. Mark scribbled his signature (which looks like scribbles). The trooper says thanks, runs back to his car and peals off. Mark said he drove 50 mph the rest of the way and didn't stop shaking til he got home.

I'm sure if we venture up to Burlington, the largest city in VT, we could find something happening. But it's not like CT or CA where there is evidence everywhere. Just something else to deal with being one of the few Blacks in VT.

You Know It’s Hard Out Here For A… Farmer!

We've divided up chores and among other things, I'm responsible for feeding the cats and rabbits before catching the bus at 6:15am. Mark feeds the chickens, goat, sheep and alpaca before he leaves for the day. Now that my commute will be half of what it was, (I was just hired as part of a Community Health Team) I will pick up the chickens.

We built the rabbit hutch and chicken coop ourselves. When we budgeted for the animals, we didn't take into account a number of very important things. Did you know that when temperatures dropped below freezing that would mean that the water for the animals would freeze? We had to invest in heating lamps. We also didn't take into account that that the heating lamps wouldn't necessarily work as well in a large space. So we needed to invest in a heated water bucket for the barn/shed (another ghetto project)

for the goat, sheep and alpaca. We had wanted to use our shed as a barn, but it's on a solid rock ledge, so sadly we couldn't use it. New barns run $1500-$3000 depending on size and materials used. And we weren't up to building a barn from scratch. Instead, I found a shed on craigslist that we had to disassemble for transport and reassemble on our property. Another ghetto project and it only took us a WHOLE month…

We also thought that the garage (where we house the rabbits and cats) would maintain temperatures above freezing, but it doesn't. We were fortunate enough to get a wood stove for free! But there's this little issue called wood that we didn't think through. As noted in a previous post, Mark is a pyromaniac. He has been cutting up fallen trees and using them as wood in our (now-ruined) outdoor fire pit, since we moved in.

So it didn't seem like much of a leap to use that wood for the woodstove in the garage. Well… Mark says it's not as easy as we thought. Especially since he's now cutting and splitting wood in sub-freezing temps. Thankfully, he does it and now the garage is toastier than the house!

Besides our hot water… you know what else runs on oil – our HEATERS! We dumbass city slickers thought our heaters ran on gas. When we ran out of oil a few months ago, the weather was mild so we didn't realize the heaters weren't working. We went through the last oil fill-up fast! Now that it's cold – it was -1* (minus/negative one degree) the other day – we noticed when we ran out of oil! It's funny how you use more oil in the winter. And we didn't budget for this. We still have animals to feed, not to mention feeding ourselves. Fortunately, the oil company is willing to work with us. They only charged us half of the non-route/emergency fee that they would have… Mark is now rethinking the wood stove project I lobbied for, that he previously protested when it was warm outside. We are not going through this again. It sucks.

I've been riding to Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center for the past four months on a commuter bus. Although it's only 30 minutes from my exit to the hospital exit, on the bus it's about 90 minutes each way which includes the various stops on the way. It doesn't make sense to drive everyday when the bus is only $1 each way. Although I did start ridesharing two days a week.

It's been rough (for me) on the bus since I have motion sickness issues, I leave home at dark and get home at dark, and from the time I get on the bus in the morning to the time I get off at the end of the day is 12 hours. Although it was a great place to work, I won't have to worry about all that anymore. Anyway, some of us were chatting the other day and this one woman was talking about how she spent $6500 on oil to heat her home in one season. She was trying to be frugal and kept her heat set at 60* - which is cold. She said she dressed in layers and slept with her dogs. $6500 to be cold?!?!?!?!? Another woman was saying that they kept their thermostat at 65* and dressed in layers. We all agreed that we want to be able to walk around in our undies and be comfortable, whether it was winter or summer. The woman with the dogs just moved into an energy efficient home and her house faces south, so her heating bills are a small fraction of what they were, plus her electric bills are under $50 month! That's what I'm talking about.

These experiences have made me realize that in addition to the books/manuals and helpful advice from friends and neighbors, we need instruction. I am proudly about to begin taking farming classes - All part of a University of Vermont Women's Agricultural Network program. Budgeting is included! Hopefully this will be the end of just plain ghetto and the beginning of structure with alittle flavor.