WW/ Back from War Dance on the American River

We just got back from war dance in Sacramento, tired but our hearts settled and full. I'm waiting for Chief Caleen Sisk Franco's words to those of us assembled at the state capitol, her words to all the good people of the world to be uploaded because more than anything else, that is the message of H'up Chonas and the lawsuit filed against: the US Department of Interior; Bureau of Reclamation; Bureau of Indian Affairs; Bureau of Land Management; US Dept of Agriculture; US forest Service; Ken Salazar, Secretary of the Interior; Tom Vilsack, Secretary of Agriculture; and other responsible agency officials. Her words should be available here on Monday. Thank you for your prayers. Thank you for your support. Thank you for signing the online petition supporting the Winnemem Wintu Tribe.

The petition shows 600 signatures from all over the country and all around the world. If you would like to sign, please go to http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/support-justice-for-the-winnemem-wintu-tribe

A personal thank you also for the tribal letter of support from the leaders of the Rosebud Sioux Tribe of South Dakota. As sovereign people, they have also sent a letter recognizing the Winnemem Wintu Tribe, something the US government has yet to do. I think any support such as this from tribal people would be appreciated. Please send to:

Caleen Sisk Franco, Chief
Winnemen Wintu Tribe
14840 Bear Mountain Road
Redding, CA 96003

On April 17, Head Man Mark Franco found that the road to the top of Universe Rock was still blocked by snow, but that was alright. Instead, the Sacred Fire was started at the Sugar Pines were the men go to fast. I won't go into detail except to say that it seems that was exactly as it should have been. I'll just say that this place was the first place that the briefs for the lawsuit were prayed over, where generations of Winnemem men fasted and dreamed.

That evening, the Fire was brought down to the Prayer House at the ranch, carried in the back of a pickup and, the next evening, on April 18, we all gathered from near and far, sitting around the Fire to listen to Caleen, then each of us praying to get ready for H'up Chonas. That night, the warriors began their fast.

April 19, we caravaned to Camp Pollock by the American River, guests of the Miwok. The Fire rode in the back of a truck and was placed in the middle of the war dance arena, ready for H'up Chonas. Warriors danced into the night. Singers sang H'up Chonas songs, ancient songs which came in for the warriors and the people during the H'up Chonas at Shasta Lake Dam, 2004, so they could be used again.

Early morning, April 20, as the sun topped the trees, Chief Caleen Sisk Franco prayed over the briefs which had been carried up to the Sugar Pines, prayed around the Fire at each of the stops. The War Dance resumed, this time to the last song which came in with the Bear Spirit at the H'up Chonas at Shasta Lake Dam -- and this was the H'up Chonas song: the Creator does not want the River dammed. The Creator wants his big fish to swim free -- as Head Man Mark Franco said, just as the Winnemem want to be free to be Winnemem. We all caravaned to Old Town Sacramento to march to the Capitol. All the Winnemem were in traditional regalia. Many Tribal Organizations and Tribal Representatives gathered in support bringing their flags and banners. A delegation of Tsukimi Kai members from San Francisco, the Environmental Justice for Water and some members of Winnemem Support Group of Oregon also marched with the Winnemem in solidarity.

We met at the State House under a circle of trees, giant witnesses to an historic moment as the Winnemem Tribe finished what their ancestors had begun. They have brought their complaint for over one hundred years of injustice right to the halls of justice of Federal Court.

So much happened, so much was felt that I am not able to express it right now. I ask for forgiveness for this skeletal piece, almost a list of facts, for what was really an event of huge emotional magnitude and great signficance for everyone there. I expect in days ahead for things to unfold, events set in motion by the prayers and sacrifices of the war dancers and the Winnemem leaders.

What I would ask is that you listen to Chief Caleen Sisk Franco's words when I put it up early next week.

Thank you to RT, the cooks for the wonderful meal which broke the fast and brought us together to celebrate and send us all home safely.

Mom's Birthday and Easter Sunday Thoughts

For the Christian world, today is Easter. For the bunny loving world it's a day to hunt decorated eggs laid or hidden by the Easter Bunny -- go figure. For our family, today is our mother's 89th birthday! No one in our family, born in the US or immigrated, has reached this milestone. I'm proud of mom!

Today we bought two cakes, one for the party at Southtowne at 2 pm during social hour and one small one for her special swing shift friends to celebrate when she gets up and wanders around. Eric, Jose, Cindy and others keep her company during those hours. Sometimes Eric tells her stories or sings in Japanese. Sometimes, Jose and Cindy bring her in to their little nurse's station so she can relax instead of get into fights with others. Sometimes, they try to get her back to sleep. It may work; it may not. But the fact is they give love and they're there while her family sleeps through the night.

Easter in my childhood was another family time with food, company and goodies. We painted eggs with mom. She had this special recipe using hot water, dye, vinegar AND oil so the dye was marbled. We'd wipe the egg between each dip and dip in another color. The two of us, my sister and I, were the event of the day, looking for the eggs all the adults hid -- grandma, grandpa, my two uncles, one aunt and my mother.

But the story of the resurrection never took root in me despite the fact I went to the Methodist Church. I remember getting into hot water with my religion professor at the College of Idaho. She lived across the street. I could hear her in the living room yelling at my mother about her daughter, me, who had the devil in her. Seriously. I got a peek at her from the hallway and she looked just like I imagined the Wizard of Oz Witch whom Dorothy crushed under her flying house. Apparently, it bothered her that I answered her exam question "Should it be by faith or by deeds which identify Christians." I wrote, as any Japanese would, that we become who we are as much through our actions as through what we believe. To follow Jesus' example seemed the right thing to do just as we followed our ancestors, our teachers, our parents, our grandparents. But the professor literally almost broke a blood vessel reading my answer to her essay question. For Christians it was so important that one believed against all logic that Jesus was crucified, dead, buried and rose again, and this crucifixion was an ultimate sacrifice done for the sake of all sinners, his blood spilled for all sins, and that to be a good Christian, all you had to do was to believe that he died for you and your sins, and believe that God the Creator raised him from the dead to be with him. It's not that I didn't believe that at the time. I just didn't pay as much attention to the human sacrifice part as I did his courageous and compassionate example. I was raised to believe that one showed respect by following the footsteps of those who went before, those who were my teachers, my elders. The idea of gaining redemption from someone's death was too foreign, and definitely did not fit as a basis for a belief system, very uncomfortable. It works for a lot of people but I am not wired that way. I think that's why colonialism doesn't work for me either -- to gain from someone's bloody sacrifice.

The professor left with a shriek and mom had a talk with me. She told me she wasn't saying anything I did was wrong. Instead, she put things in perspective for me -- peace in the neighborhood, hurting the professor's feelings to the point of distraction, keeping the goal of graduation in the forefront, choosing compassion -- and I followed her advice for the sake of the neighborhood, for my family, for my mom, and re-did the test -- "a good Christian believes that it is by faith and faith alone that one receives salvation." I don't remember one single supporting idea because it just did not come from my heart. But it was enough to pass the test with a "C" and brought peace to the neighborhood.

I'm remembering that incident today. As a Winnemem, I'm remembering another incident. I'm sitting with our spiritual leader and chief, Florence Jones, or Granny, as she rested in bed. She rolled over and pointed above her head at Jesus on the cross -- a gift from a relative. "That bled once," she said. "I touched it to see what that was, and it was blood." She had taken the cross to a minister and asked him what it meant. The minister advised her just to keep it to herself. She asked me if I knew about such things. I did tell her about "stigmata" and the miracle of healing and what happened when people found out. Maybe she was glad the world of pilgrims did not converge upon her little ranch.

Granny said, "Jesus is like me." I understood. Jesus was a spiritual doctor. He could doctor people. He could pray for them. He accepted everyone and loved everyone who came to him. He could raise people from the dead.

Granny told me, "Once I tried to walk on water and almost drowned." So there are some things, perhaps, he might have done that she didn't do. However, she could walk barefoot through fire. Then I thought of that professor across the street. What would she say if she heard somebody say, "Jesus is like me." For her a good Christian believed Jesus was one of a kind, the ONLY son of god, the sacrifice for the world's sins, and one whose life on earth and deeds of courage, compassion and healing were not to be followed or duplicated or talked about without risk of committing sacrilege.

I am happy on the Winnemem way of life although I thank Methodism for my early training and even give a nod to my religion professor and her passion to have her way become mine. But if I had, I would not have recognized the miracles as I witnessed them during my lifetime along the Winnemem way. Actually, I don't call them miracles because they are not "one of a kind." There are many blessings, healings, answers to prayers by the Great Olelbus whatever name the Great Creator Spirit is called by the people who turn toward and follow faith, as numerous as there are mountains, the fish, the trees, the rivers, the medicine plants, as many as there are people. There are a multitude of blessings not just one miracle.


Happy happy birthday, Mom! It's been fun following you and picking up my own human work along Life's pathway. Today, we celebrate her 89 years of hard work -- following ancestors, abiding by family, surviving racism, speaking up when she saw it, telling her children the truth always, going to college at 45, becoming an artist, becoming a teacher, teaching many children and believing in them, seeing more of the world (China, Japan, Thailand, Alaska), and enjoying what she saw, supporting her children in choosing their own way and now, embracing all humans and trees as her family. You're my hero, Mom!

Going out is our favorite. I gather mom up and say, “Let’s go have fun!”

Every time, her eyes get big with surprise and she holds out her arms, “Whoopeee!”

We get ready for our day and as we go out the door she says her “goodbyes” to the staff and friends. “Have a good time, Mary!” they say.

“Okey dokey doooooo!” she crows.

I open the gate. She lifts her face to the sky, flings out her arms and gives another “Whoopeeeeee!”

I open the door and my petite little Mama hops in like a gymnast getting up on the balance beam, her hands on the seat, pushing herself up and balancing for an instant before plopping down. I marvel to myself. I cannot even imagine being able to do that now, and she’s 24 years older. I buckle her in, shut her door and climb into the driver’s seat.

“Oh, hello!” she greets me with surprise. “ I didn’t know you were driving..” And we’re off for our adventure as mom says again, “I can’t believe my own daughter is driving!

This is how I live my days, each day opening with such surprise and joy. I told my sister, I don’t know when it happened but somewhere along the way, Mom shifted from responsibility to my hobby! Hobby? Hanging with my momma!”

"No Worries, Mom"

Marvy, DisOrient's Hospitality person, just called to see if our home could host another filmmaker who is coming having heard Will and I are heading out of town for War Dance and there would be bedrooms vacant. While we are gone, we are leaving our filmmaker guests in the care of our 25 year old daughter Maki who will be moving in to play host. When I told her this morning about another guest, she made some cryptic comment like "no worries, mom. It sounds like it's going to be fun!" Hmmmmmm. I don't think she was referring to caring for her Obachan. I hope she's not imagining bringing back one of those I-5 1980's gatherings she's heard happened at our house when guests from CA or Seattle or Portland came into town -- every brother and sister in Eugene coming by to hang out with our I-5 brothers and sisters to party. Or I hope she at least cleans up.

April 20 2009, "It's a Good Day for Justice!"

After a century of egregious acts heaped on the Winnemem Wintu, the tribe and their lawyers are ready bring H'up Chonas forward to the Federal Court in their case regarding the failure of the United State government to live up to the obligations and promises made through the 1941 Central Valley Project – Indian Land Acquisition Act.

The complaint will be filed in Federal Court (Eastern District in Sacramento) on April 20, 2009 and I invite all of you who are so kind to read my blog to be there if you'd like. Head Man Mark Franco writes in his blog, "Journey to Justice": We are asking all of our tribal relatives who are able to send a delegation to Sacramento to show support for us in this effort. As you are all aware, we are limited in funds and could use your financial assistance if you are able to help us house, transport, feed and/or fuel vehicles for tribal members and other folks who come to walk to the court with us. Any and all assistance is helpful and we appreciate your generosity as well as your good wishes on this major step forward we are taking."

With the permission of the Miwok people (on whose land the court sits) the Winnemem will dance at a designated place and then dgive a press release from the capital steps on April 20 with an additional Tribal Advisory sent again.

Franco writes, "This issue is not one that was easy to reach but we have seen our lands damaged almost beyond repair; the waters polluted and the salmon stranded and lost to our home streams: now is the time for us to act, and we have, continuing the efforts begun in 2004 with our War Dance on Shasta Dam! We welcome all to join with us!"

Listed below is the schedule leading up to the target date of the 20th:

April 17th we go to Universe Rock to pray for papers
April 18th we will be in the village at fire, we will get ready to travel.
April 19th we will go to Sacramento down by Old Sac by the river, set the drum and fire and dance in the evening.
April 20th we will war dance in the morning, walk to the Capitol for media event at 12 noon, and file the complaint by 2:30pm
Franco explains, "This is the day in history that we have been praying for. Our complaint is not about recognition, but about the harms caused by the BIA, BLM, BOR, USFS, Dept of Agriculture, and Dept. of Interior for not upholding the law and promises by the US.
Contact the tribe if you can help out or come to support. Additional press notifications are forthcoming so stay tuned!" Franco's blog, "Journey to Justice" can be accessed as one of my "favorite blogs" on this page.

THANK YOU, ALL OF YOU, WHO SUPPORTED THIS EFFORT BY SIGNING THE ONLINE PEITITON TO SENATORS BOXER AND FEINSTIEN. It is currently up to 550 -- on the right side of the half way point to 1000! If you'd like to sign and you haven't yet, it's" www.thepetitionsite.com/1/support-justice-for-the-winnemem-wintu-tribe

You may have read my enthusiastic, gushy blog about DisOrient Asian American Film Festival which we all have worked so hard to make real this year? Only a War Dance of the Winnemem tribe pushing forward a complaint finally brought to the federal court of century or more of grevious acts against the people, the sacred lands, the water, and the fish could keep me away. . . . . .

Don't Miss DisOrient Asian American Film Festival, April 17 -19

DisOrient Asian American Film Festival (disorientfilm.org) will be April 17 - April 19 at the Bijou Art Cinema in Eugene on 13th and Ferry. It is a jewel of a festival! Jason Mak, "daddy" of the Festival was inspired by the big ones he experienced down in LA while he was an ethnic studies graduate student and falling in love with independant filmmaking.

DisOrient is in its fourth year now and has graduated from a small room in the corner of the Asian American Film Festival, to a quiet little theater in neighboring Springfield with an angry antique dealer next door who didn't want any cars parking on "his street" to the Bijou. We love the Bijou, friendly staff, pop corn with nutritional yeast and real butter (a Eugene addiction), and their mi casa tu casa welcome to our festival. During the festival, the Bijou allows us to turn their own little space for relaxing into our Green Room where local Asian restaurants donate food for the presenters and VIP guests. They turn a blind eye to the fact that 100 DisOrient filmgoers are not buying their special popcorn, and instead, join as we all dig into samosas, or chowmein or Steve Mah's special barbecue pork. You get the picture.

I'm saying our festival because this will be my second I'm on the committee.

I call it a jewel of a festival because like the big Asian American film festivals, the producers, directors and filmmakers often come with their films with great Q & A's afterwards. These guests, like the artists of our community who have preceded them are generous and open people -- as grassroots as the people who put on these efforts or come to see the independent films. It's the closest to the phenomena many of us experienced during the beginnings of the Asian American youth movements when people wrote their own books, made their own music, learned to taiko and went up and down I-5, even into Canada, from Seattle to LA carrying their stories, their ancestor's stories with them. It was like a justice underground, stopping in Eugene or Ashland or Mt. Shasta -- all the little towns w/Asian population in between the metro areas. Everytime someone came through they would be the event. In Eugene, it meant all the students of color and communities would show up and there would be this massive party at my lucky house afterwards, people spilling out into the yard, front and back. I-5 dropped into my street and I had hardly any furniture. Every room could be turned into a place to crash and whenever necessary cleared away for a party crowd.

Like the artists, poets, political activists, taiko drummers, musicians of that time independant filmmakers have that same spirit, at least the ones I've met. They bring their passion for film, their varied philosophy of their life and art, traveling up and down I-5 and beyond, and are willing to share all of it with us. When Curtis Choy was 22 back in '73, beginning to recognize injustice in its many forms, he picked up a camera instead of a shotgun. He will most certainly still be shooting as long as he has life in him and tell those true stories which wake up our humanity -- for as long as we still have it. DisOrient I showed Choy's "What's Wrong with Frank Chin," DisOrient 3 showed his film on Lt. Ehren Watada and Frank Emi and this year we will show "Manilatown is in the Heart" through the POV of the biggest heart, Al Robles, poet. These emotionally powerful films prove why documentary filmmakers are a breed to themselves -- THEY WERE THERE! And Choy was there getting to know the icons during critical times, getting to know the heart of all the stories and the people we would want to be passed on to the next generation. Justin Lin refuses to be boxed as an Asian American filmmaker and acts out his belief that an Asian filmmaker can make any kind of film and proves it with his "Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift" series with fast cars, Hollywood actors, and the Asian "buddy" even dies before the end. The spectrum of what makes a person pick up that camera is that broad.

But one thing all have in common -- they will answer every question anyone who comes to see their films will ask, they will mentor the next generation, they will accept homestays knowing we're grassroots and on a shoestring budget and appreciate the opportunity to connect, they will stand with us, small as we may be, and encourage other filmmakers to send their film to DisOrient. What they all have in common is that they will do whatever it takes as indendent filmmakers to make films, show film, and to promote indie film. It's the opposite of the ego thing. They promote indie film by mentoring the young. They expand the audience by expanding their own personal community. They show their films AND themselves. I'm sold. I have become an avid independant film goer and festival patron as much as it is possible to be.

So come to DisOrient! This year's program is on the website disorientfilm.com. The festival is shorter by a day because some of our filmmakers could not finish their film when things turned crazy economically. One of the first to feel economic crisis is always the artist -- and the independent filmmaker, even more than others.

Curtis Choy will be our family's guest this year. He is coming with his documentary "Manilatown is in the Heart." I've blogged about it much earlier when we were previewing films and advocated with all my heart to anyone who would listen -- and as it turned out I probably didn't have to. His reputation, of course, is solid.

I did not sit on the program committee this year so I don't know about the other films. I do believe the excitement each has generated with the work of Rose Pergament whom Jason Mak describes as irreplaceable and the best programmer he has ever known. Check out the program she has put together as well as a workshop by JP Chan, filmmaker of the "Uses for a Knife" trilogy (the third playing at the festival.) The youngest filmmaker of this program is 15, our students from the Rites of Passage program mentored by Jason Mak and filmmaker Will Lu who flew to Eugene just to be with our summer program after meeting us at DisOrient III. There are films by about and for a diversity of Asian Pacific experience. Some tell the truth. Some mess with your mind. Some will offend. Some will inspire you to do something you wouldn't have it you didn't go to DisOrient. Last year, Steve Wake brought his documentary "Under the Same Moon" about Japanese Americans going to Cuba to do a joint oral history project and cultural exchange with Japanese Cubans. Inspired, my husband Will and I are going this summer with the Tsukimikai III group! We do homework (lots of reading and writing and sharing) and meet through Skype every other Sunday for hours to prepare for the trip. When I look at the moon nowadays, I feel anticipation for "our family" in Cuba!

Don't miss DisOrient IV! Check out the Nolan's website. Get a VIP pass and receive Dana Valdez' festival t-shirt and Laura Fong's souvenier festival program. You'll be able to go to the parties arranged by hospitality chair Marvy Schuman with a lot of effort from Pam Quan, MiMi Nolledo and Mike Takahashi. Enjoy conversing with presenters in the Green Room staffed by Jeannie Mah and others. If there is a festival it is because of Jo Kingman, Joe Jiang and the tech crew. Joe also did our trailer. If you need a ride back to your hotel, just ask Remie Calalang and Anselmo Villanueva and they'll find someone for you or do it themselves. If you're flying in, probably Linda Liu got you your ticket. You'll meet her taking your ticket and can tell her about your flight. And please don't throw your popcorn box on the floor in the theater (we recycle) because Paloma and I are pushing the broom between programs.

Asking for Your Support

On March 6, Toby McCleod, (producer of "In Light of Reverence" a Sundance Film Festival winner, which showed the Winnemem Wintu's successful battle to stop the building of a ski resort on the sacred Mt. Shasta and prevented the desecration of their Sacred Spring by condo developers) was the first to sign the Support Justice for the Winnemem Wintu Tribe on line petition. Three weeks later, there are 411 signatures many with comments from all around the nation, and also internationally demonstrating to Senators Boxer and Feinstien that the Winnemem do not stand alone. If you haven't signed yet, please take some time today:

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/support-justice-for-the-winnemem-wintu-tribe

If you have already signed, thank you! If you go to the site and you haven't visited in awhile, it's very heartening to see how far and wide supporters are and to read some of their heartfelt comments. Please pass this information on to your friends, family and organizations.

At the end of March, the Winnemem tribe will be moving forward and will need as much support as possible. A thousand signees onto their petition would be nice! Please sign the petition and be counted! Thank you, Misa

Keeping the Faith After "Doubt"

We went to see "Doubt" tonight. Each of us had our own point of view -- substantially influenced by our own life experiences. Two former Catholics -- one East Coast New Englander; the other Venezuelan; one Japanese American retired school teacher; and two with experiences which they did not refer to in relation to the movie, so I can't say for sure.

Any analysis of "Doubt" in the end, as in reality, says more about the observer than the observed.
My own life experience has rendered me a person with no doubt. I don't know if that's good or bad, but it would feel earth shaking for me to be otherwise.

1. The priest was just a priest, being a priest as he believed he should be. Was he gay or straight? I don't know. What I do know is that his life experience led him to feel compassion for the African American gay child entering into puberty, and fear for him in the restricted, homophobic, racist society he had been born into. He felt protectiveness and accepted him for who he was. I had no doubt that his love for William was a nurturing love -- a love of a teacher, a preacher, a parent. Perhaps, then, he was gay to have such understanding of William and what he would be going through but we don't know. For sure, though, he was not a pedophile.

2. The young Black and gay student entering into adolescence may have had a crush on his priest -- as young people often do, of teachers, and adults they look up to. He did not have a father who understood or loved him or accepted him for who he was, a father who did not see the beauty he brought into the world.

3. Remember Nun Aloysius asked the mother accusingly, "what kind of mother are you?"
The mother may not have understood her son's sexual identity but she loved her son. The mother would rather his son passed into highschool, that his son was cared about by a significant adult, that her son could survive no matter what and that he was happy.

4. The Nun, Aloyisius, we all have experienced the hand of the Nun/schoolteacher/preacher/maybe even parent, so sure of what was natural and what was not that they would take radical measure to be right. Otherwise their world would come tumbling down. We know the person who would bully those they feared (fearing they might shake their control -- teens, authority, other points of view). Often these bullying people showed such contradictory nurturing to the helpless -- the elderly, the ill, those who did not shake their world. It's amazing how often people like these are put into positions of middle power, closest to the rank and file. Those in power would not put them with the children. Parents would be continuously complaining. And would not place them with themselves in their administrator's club.

5. The teacher, the Nun ________________, saw the priest hug the young student and it scared her. This child had no fatherly hug in his life. This child deserved to be hugged. This child needed a hug especially on the day he began to be seen as a problem child -- stripped of being an alter boy, harassed and humiliated, sent to the principal. We can remember even now, can't we, how a day like that made us doubt ourselves? But the Nun was afraid of the hug. She could only see it in the sordid light of her Catholic fear, homophobia, racial tension, and the sexual repression of the Fifties and Sixties. After the hug, she became the teacher authoritarian, bullying and humilating the young African American gay student for daydreaming, silencing another student for being excited to share the answer, sending him to the principal for answering her question, screaming at him, deriding him when he came back until he quaked in fear. "This is my classroom," she shrieked. And felt the loneliness and wrongness of a teacher who owned the classroom by herself.

It was perfect that the film was set in the 60's. We remember the Sixties. There was a revolution in the schools. Teachers were hugging their kids. They were teaching everyone's history. They were bringing relevance, interaction, play into thei classroom. Out went the texts. In came paperbacks, simulations, art. Down came the walls. Now, of course, teachers in the US are told not to even touch their students or they might get into trouble.

6. The day dreamer, the alienated student may not have heard the question or known the answer of Patrick Henry saying "Give me liberty or give me death" or FDR's "There is nothing to fear but fear itself" but he certainly knew it with every cell, living in a fearful world -- where a father loathed who he was, beat him, where he had to hide his true self or be beaten, where only one teacher loved him for who he was and cared what happened to him, even gave him that second chance, and that teacher left.

7. The teacher left because it is hard to teach with compassion in a toxic, fearful, dangerous environment. In fact, impossible because in the end, the children will be the victims of the hate which falls all around you. It stops if you leave for most students -- and for the few for whom you made all the difference in the world, they will be sacrificed, of course, and it will weigh on your heart.

8. Why did the child with the nosebleed smirk at the end? The priest had a weakness. He did not love all his student and picked on the manipulative boy who bullied others and made wisecracks. Picked on him about his dirty fingernails. All the students deserve to have some love, even those one finds unloveable and coach the bully, the manipulative student, to believe in the power of respect and saying what's true. And that proved to be his Achilles heel. The nun who disliked them all saw the reaction of the one student he did not nurture and treated with dislike, and used that student to brand him guilty for loving a student, whom perhaps she did not find loveable. Understand I am saying with a nurturing love of a parent, an uncle, a teacher.

9. The teacher Nun who inspired the story, I hope. became the teacher she truly was as the priest with all his heart and emotion counseled her to be rather than to be another Sister Aloysius.

10. And I hope Sister Aloysius felt doubt enough times that she became human and did not continue to cross boundaries with parents, her colleagues, and the children. My experience says, unfortunately, that would not be the case. Perhaps, an enjoyable retirement to a place she can't hurt anyone and can simply be nice to those who do not prove a threat to her -- the elderly, the sick.

11. My total lack of doubt might seem extreme, but I always look at the child, and William missed his priest and was heartbroken, according to the teacher. He was not a victim, but lost the only adult whom he knew to believe in him. That's my take on it -- 33 years of teaching -- i.e., being taught, and influenced by adolescents in a society not too different from that of the film. It's not an accident it was set in the 60's when education was under great change from the restrictive, propogandistic, segregated schools it had been for decades, and student teachers were reading Paolo Freire, Jonothan Kozol and others and opening free schools, some of which exist still today, schools in which the children are hugged by all of their teachers.

Forgive me. I'm not proofreading and will probably come back and change this many times. But tonight I came home from the movies and a great conversation which strengthened my faith more than doubt.

THE WINNEMEM SUPPORT PETITION TO BOXER AND FEINSTEIN IS AT 338!! PLEASE SIGN ON! THANK YOU