Just now on MSNBC a woman commentator stated that she wished her mother were alive. She went on to say her week has been filled with that thought.

No one could better sum up this week of watching the DNC 2016 for me.

I wish my mother had lived three more years to see all of this.

And it isn't because of Hillary as her individual self-I think it is for seeing my mother as I saw her when she cast her vote for President Obama eight years ago in her late 70's. She toppled in afflicted by her stroke, couldn't hear, telling the poll people what a problem I was for her. Seeing her watch the historic moment, knowing my mother as I know her -and her work in community and human rights. Knowing her sheer feisty soul. SHE thought President Obama was a great President. Period.
Her joy in his winning and her ability to temper cynicism with respect and hope and belief in his ability to do the best he could do-and well for us all was vivid. Hers wasn't a naivety-the years beat that out of my mother. She knew he was the one.

I wanted to be there when my mother saw a woman fully become a candidate for President, viable, strong, fighting all of it for the job, and I would want her to see a woman become President. And I think she'd find Hillary Clinton a good first. Maybe even the right first. Maybe the one-we will see.
I have hope. Mom would shrug those amazing shoulders she said never needed shoulder pads, as if to say, "We will see."

I miss her terribly, Hillary has stated she misses her mother terribly.
It's a hole I cannot seem to yet fill and after three years, the flood came during this week I've cried everyday of the DNC for hours missing her, Mom missing this.

My children can attest to her love of CNN, back in the day, her 24 hour news cycle self, her dear conspiracy theory orientation, her factual-encyclopedic memory-the researcher that never let a fixation go into the night, her love of Dan Rather, her having my little ones put on CNN during 9-11 and every other tragedy for them to "watch together" in some flight from thinking -a woman that knew everything about the oil companies, about foreign powers, about the reach of the United States and their interests. A woman not afraid of taking on dog racing, nuclear power, and assassinations. I don't know what she would have thought of Bernie Sanders. But.....I think she would have the practicality about her choices. Mom was not always within my ability to predict-his stances on Wall Street would have been important. I cannot know. She'd say Trump should be investigated as an agent of Russia-that I can tell you.

I CAN know I heard her tell my children, young, (as they played "the President's game"-mom always loved memorizing facts like this, in order, completely), that she would not live to see a woman President and she only rated it a MAYBE they might see it in their lifetime. And when Obama was elected she stated to me-now hard of hearing and such more brittle-she thought a woman always got shafted harder than anyone else when I broached the subject.

Mom didn't mince words.

Mom would look on Trump with true horror and be stopping her foot about treason. And Mom, recall loved President Reagan-we never came to terms over it, but I took her to his library several times and she bought a piece of the Berlin Wall for my children that sits in a small box there, in her things it still sits I cannot bear to go through in her room. She treasured it. Mom could listen to a conservative, or a Democrat-she wasn't thrilled with most. She loved FDR, and she respected Joe Biden and loved him before any of you knew who he was. She was a Biden supporter from days he lost his wife and when he had an operation on the base of his brain- she covered it to me like a reporter reporting the single story of the year.
She prayed him through it.

His speech at the DNC 2016 would have done it for her. Hillary forever.

God I tell my girls who think I need some meds this day, I never thought it could happen.
A woman running for the White House who is who we actually MUST elect, or we will be destroying our nation-to see it actually come to this. I'll never forget this. I hope there is a part two to this post. And I promise no student, no parent, no child will ever know my view from my post in teaching. No hats or magnets or bumperstickers or comments. None.

Nor will I forget a grown child of a family member I do not know except through social media telling me for supporting HER I need to suck on the end of a loaded pistol-condemning me to a violent death-not unlike another female cousin who TOOK her life in that way-I'll never forget the apparent stakes in this. I'm better dead to this family member than a voter for a woman that surely has served the country and I see has very little to gain doing this and is taking one for the team. That is my personal take. Mine alone. Mine to wish to talk to about with a mother that lived so much social change. Who was one of the brightest women I ever knew-who deserved a life with no glass ceiling on her womanhood.

Yes, I've said all week and say today-I wish my mother was here, today.

I will always remember my third grade teacher in Morgantown, WV- Mrs. Gladys Peyton. 
She largely taught her career in the Annex for black children on White Avenue. 
She was a great teacher inspiring a lot of us-who met her after that color barrier fell in public ed- short years before we entered her room. Not a word from her about any of this, and  when they moved my 3rd grade class back to the Annex with overcrowding-(so a mixed group got the wonderful, fair treatment that she was not afforded in her career arch)-our not knowing that or that MOST of the teachers that taught the black kids were let go on the technicality their ed training wasn't good enough-but Peyton's was-hung invisible to us. Her training was top notch. A lot of the reality of her experience was put aside, as she focused on teaching us well-to the best of her ability.


Mrs. Peyton got through the "training" clause to eliminate these teachers, which I'm sure was devised to really stop any community objection to integration by getting around it entirely-and ousting the black teachers. Mrs. Peyton was one of three black teachers allowed to remain in this system-three in the county who were allowed to now teach children that were white- after long careers teaching those of color. What happened to the rest? I did not hear that asked. Black children had a wonderful teacher in Mrs. Peyton, there was the true irony, but she taught all of us without even a word about this near past she endured. Not a word.

In our time she quietly and effectively fought the school system and won the right to group children in reading groups as she saw fit-my parents and a few others coming forward with force to support her. My father did that. I'm proud of them now as I realize what they did. What that really was-a vote a call on conscious. In a community not supporting her professionalism. She fought to remain the instructional leader-respected- over a cog taking orders from data. Who she was. Who my parents were-who Kelly Corwin's family was-a classmate with a powerful mom that stood together.

When Barack Obama was elected I felt the weight, joy, the expectation-the STANDARD that Mrs. Peyton would have held-just alive in me. Her eyes. She died in her hundreds-and here I was-left to see.  If he did nothing else Obama's dignity in office spoke, just as her actions spoke, to what a standard they were held to as "firsts."  A standard that our First Lady bore with incredible dignity. One mistake-all that would be needed to call upon the forces of lesser men to topple them-and still I have some small part of family that describe them in terms one can only call out as vestiges of the days Peyton dealt with and rose beyond- when to be black was to be segregated and despised by those with closed hearts and untrained minds and smallness. 

So I was watching FOR Mrs. Peyton last night during the third night of the 2016 DNC as I have taught for her all these 30 plus years of my social justice work as a teacher. 
It is a job requiring a lot of heart and a lot of backbone. And I am no Gladys Peyton. 
I would love to be so defined. I was watching the real undoing of the system of racism-as I watched it as a girl of 8- a long time ago in my PUBLIC school system. 


Yes, there is another frame I think of the Obama's in-it is a practical one that I witnessed. 
For years I have taught in California- moving here in my late twenties. Food was cooked and wonderful in my schools in West Virginia. 

But not here in schools serving black and migrant kids where I worked.
Water fountains were never cooled or filtered, restrooms were never comparable to ones I knew, nor facilities. 
Always in ALL the public schools I was tenured in- the food was mostly a wasteland. Frozen chicken nuggets and frozen, reheated mess. Inedible largely. And I ate it often sitting with my kids-until a faculty demanded I not eat with them. Wondering when this would be seen. The crappiness of the food was astounding. 


Michelle Obama shined a light on providing better, fresher food. Fruit and veggies. Farm to table and even in the most recalcitrant places such as where I taught where the mindset was "they should be lucky to get anything" stated many a day by a first grade teacher I once worked beside years ago with a small heart.
I saw salad bars appear, choice, the language of nutrition and care. 
Real care.
My husband did this too-better, earlier, without help to see it- in the districts he led like gang-busters.

I hold that in my sight every single day I do my job -and I do say, "THANK you President Obama."
It IS embarrassing to need to eat at school, and I really for all our thrift and need I never knew in my childhood that hunger- with a Dad that provided food he grew-but my heart is not closed to that. That Dad drove his excess food out to the mining encampments and to others.  

As Mr. Rogers once said-I look to the helpers, I look to that family seeing practical, forward movement. And for Mrs. Peyton I remember what she asked of me as a child as I delivered her huge bags of fresh vegetables Dad grew-when I tried to thank her. "Treat others, the children, thinking of me." 

The Obama's made her proud-let me assure you.

That IS the Legacy, and we are better for it.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Making art, being with my kids.

What is your greatest fear?

I suppose it is the death of a loved one.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

I'm not much for betrayal.

What is your greatest extravagance?

I suppose purses. Or classroom supplies.

What is your favorite journey?

I think going to Monterey.

What do you dislike most about your appearance?

Being fat, and my teeth.

What or who is the greatest love of your life?

I love many people I don't wish to choose between. 

When and where were you happiest?

I think when I was in Morgantown, but a good deal of time has passed and I'm not sure it might not be when the kids were little and their joyful noise filled my days.

What talent would you most like to have?

I'd enjoy being capable of dance.

What is your current state of mind?

I'm lonely.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I'd be thin.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Beside my children, teaching-caring.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

Trying to hold onto the deep pain of my relationship with my father and all that means-very difficult.

What is your favorite occupation?

Artists and craftsmen.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Insight.

What do you most value in your friends?

Loyalty

Who are your favorite writers?

Langston Hughes, and...too many...

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
 

Wilbur

Who are your heroes in real life?

My mom, my husband, my kids, those that stand for social justice.

What is it that you most dislike?

Poverty, the wealth, crime, weapons, war, illness, liars that hurt you as a way to avoid their own issues, those that don't have caring hearts, cynics

How would you like to die?

I guess somewhat like my mom went.

What is your motto?

Do something.

Sharing three recipes I love for the 4th though I just made Freda's coleslaw and am finishing cooking a Strawberry/Peach Crisp. I'm waiting on my favorite chicken because Jack's grilling.


FREDA'S COLESLAW
Freda Vandervort would make this for my birthday. (on the 1st of July)

Sarah Puglisi.