Nothing New--Sad all the Same

 I read stories about refugees stranded in Mexico, attempting to enter the United States legally. These are women, children, and men fighting for survival. Their struggles are no different from the millions of unfortunate people who have attempted to leave a dangerous homeland. In this case, a good number are escaping a violent death at the hands of gangs who are no less than terrorists. Avoiding certain murder forces families to risk safety and security for a chance at life. Guatemalans running from thugs in their villages is identical to the Chinese escaping Communist rule in 1949. The Jews who left Spain during the Inquisition possessed the same instinct for survival as the Rohyinga in Myanmar, fearing death (by Buddhists if that can be fathomed). The examples are endless. 

Most Americans understand why slaves attempted escape; so why do they chastise their brown brothers and sisters who plead to gain access to the United States? Desperate refugees focus on food, shelter, and a means to survive. I abhor the attitude of Americans who are anti-immigration. All citizens have forbearers who arrived from elsewhere, with the exception of Native Americans. 

My ex-husband and I adopted two children from Latin America. One motivation to adopt internationally was the awareness that children frequently are in dire situations without a safety net. It is tragic that circumstances have continued to deteriorate for poor people in these countries. Governments south of our border are commonly irresponsible and corrupt. But how much of the weakness has been caused by American intervention? How many times has the U.S. government interfered with elections? 

"America!"

It is April 30, 2021. COVID is raging in India. I am not from India or of Indian heritage. I am human. How can I not care? People around me say, "Oh, I can't read that." How can one not "read that?" The victims on the south Asian subcontinent are us. We are them. It is as simple as that. 

Today, I cancelled a lunch date. The weather was not conducive to sitting outside. I worried that my friend would think I am silly. But COVID is insidious and burrows into our bodies literally and figuratively, like a nasty tick. I will not eat inside a crowded, small restaurant/market. I am fearful of COVID, eventhough I received my two Phizer vaccinations. I wear my mask as a shield now. Incredibly lucky that these are my concerns; ridiculously trivial when one sees pictures of crowded cremation grounds--smoky, hot, and virus infested--and caskets piled up, in makeshift tents, to be buried at all hours, in Brazil and Peru. 

I am transported to India, last year to Queens, New York. Baby boomers, like me, not particularly unwell, frail, or old are destroyed by the claws of a virus that squeezes the air capacity out of the lungs. The human causalties are not street people or beggars, though the latter are tragically dying by the hundreds of thousands. The sick are mothers and fathers, wed in the 1970's, who led a typical life, working, playing, crying, and laughing. They are the Indian version of me, living retirement years. 

Who or what is the cause of these disasters? We are. Humans should not handle wild animals without protection, let alone eat them. Last year, the world was caught unawares. Though that is an insufficient reason for what came to pass. But in 2021? How can a country like India, with large pharmaceutical companies, neglect its own people? Money--probably. Always follow the money. I can imagine....And an increase in private health insurance in India which translates to money in someone's pocket. There but for the "grace of God" go we in the United States. If a certain insane, tyrant had won the election, we might have been India. The world would have said, "America."

A Rose By Any Name Would Smell as Sweet

       I came across the name Cohany today. The person whose last name is Cohany is Jewish, but I thought, mm, sounds Irish too. What's with this? 

      This is what Google states: Cohan is a variant of Cohane, which itself is an Anglicized form of the Irish Ó Cadhain. Cohan is also a variant spelling of the Hebrew surname Cohen. This version of that name is commonly used in France (among Jews). 

      Then there is Brody? Instinctually, I would say the name is Irish also. But, did you know that Brody is a common Jewish name, originating from Poland.

      According to Google: Brody is a name of either Jewish or Irish origin. Often associated with the Ukrainian city of Brody, the name has been used both as a surname and a given name.  The name originated with the noble families of Ireland and later Scotland when it was colonized by Irish settlers during the late 6th and early 7th centuries.So, I was close. Not Polish but Ukrainian. The borders between these two regions shifted throughout history. 

    It is common knowledge that the names of immigrants were shortened by impatient or uncomprehending border officials at Ellis Island and other ports of entry. "Next, what is your name?" the clerk asked brusquely. "Ahem, Wolffheim," the dishelved foreigner responded. "What? We'll call you Wolf. Next." 

    Frequently, immigrants changed their names voluntarily, desiring to blend into the melting pot, which was a common description of the United States. It is an outdated term. Now, we are a plate, with dishes from many lands, which are separate but often leak into one another--as in, "Oh dear, my french lentil salad dressing is mixing with the sesame noodles." This happens at potlucks which, in my area, consist of dishes from different ethnic groups, rather than bland covered dishes. But, I digress. 

     My grandfather tried, "Lee" to generate more business. He attempted to be a silver poslisher in affluent homes when he arrived in the United States. Imagine, an entrepeneur turned silver polisher? His surname was "Levi." He did not realize that "Lee" is a common Chinese name, and in San Francisco in the 1930's that designation decreased his opportunities. There is a long history of anti-Asian behavior in California.

     People constantly ask me about my surname. "Why is 'Levi' pronounced 'Levee' rather than 'LevI?' I explain that my relations were German Jewish. The "i" is pronounced "ee" in German, resulting in "Layfi." (Levi)  I suppose the name game in the United States will forever be confusing, since we are a country of immigrants. I mispronounce foreign names, but I try to be polite, not dismissive about names. In the past, I wondered if "Levi" was the Sephardic version; but, my rabbi said, "not really." Due to the fact that the name is transliterated from Hebrew, one could choose any spelling. And, lo and behold, there were "Levis and Levys" in a cemetery in Morroco.

     Names are informative, suggesting a complex historical load that was borne on the backs of the people who emigrated to the United States. An African surname connotes the story of a proud and tenacious people who survived the perils of colonialism. Russian surnames tell us that this family was probably forced out by a totalitarian regime. A Vietnamese name, such as Ngyuen, reminds us of the horror of the war in Southeast Asia. Hispanic names evoke the troubled past of north and south America, beginning with the Spanish and continuing with our involvement in central and south American governments.

     The Ms. Cohany I know explained the history of her surname.  Her uncle left Lithuania for Israel and her father for the United States before World War II. Their name was Katz, a German sounding name, possibly related to Cohen, but to me is "cat" in German. The Germans controlled what is now Lithuania for a period of time. The brothers thought that Cohany--deriving from Cohen--did not sound German. So there it is. And an immigration official on the east coast of the United States probably thought, Oh, he's Irish like me. 

    Surnames at best describe a segment of a person's identity.

Wedding Store

        

        Another sight on my daily walks is a wedding dress boutique, of all stores to be near me. I have no reason to visit that shop, since I am forty-five years past my wedding day. I peer into the shop and happily notice women of all races inside at any given time. Phew. At least the shop is not that elitist. The space is lit with white modern light fixtures. There are small dressing rooms surrounding a large mirror and a platform

    I watch youngish women step into the store with their mothers and friends. I see their reflection in a three-way mirror. The women stand on a platform and view themselves this way and that. Many have an insecure look, being exposed as a bride in a mirror. Childlike, they put a finger up to their lips or cross their arms to cover their midsection. They do not seem like brides, more young girls trying on princess gowns. The young women are unaware that they can be viewed from the street.

        Most people probably walk by and ignore the establishment. But, I find it impossible to ignore a wedding dress boutique with an abundance of tule, lace, silk, and satin. I am drawn to the various shades of white and the lusciousness of so much splendor. Weddings are auspicious events in the life of a woman, an undeniable truth, women’s liberation notwithstanding. Either girls dream about getting married, or hope they will never marry. But marriage is a milestone, an entry into adult life, whether the couple is up to the challenge or not.

        I imagine—but cannot see—the miniature pearls and sparkles adorning the bodices of the dresses. Odd to see the twenty to thirtyish women, with their sloppy buns or ponytails, in strapless wedding gowns, modeling their choices. I think strapless wedding gowns are dumb. So few women look attractive in this style. Imagine, being afraid that your dress might slip down during the wedding and reception?

        My mind wanders to happiness. Will the women be happy? Who are they marrying? Will they be content? Thoughts travel to my wedding. I loved my wedding dress, an unusual flowing white gown with a hood instead of a veil. Bizarre as it sounds, the material was polyester. It was 1976 after all. The advantage of polyester is that it does not wrinkle. I fancied myself an angel or a spirit floating about the evening. The dress enabled me to be an ingenue, beguiling yet innocent, not that I was completely without experience. The dress fit me figuratively and actually. I was guileless, and the outfit emphasized my figure softly.

        Back to the young women of the 21st century who are rarely innocent but equally unjaded, I daresay. Do they understand what extraordinary compromises and adaptations will have to be made? Do they foresee that a strong, empathic partnership will be vital for the marriage to survive? Perhaps, it is better that they remain dewy-eyed. I wish them the best and not so much knowledge that their dreams will be destroyed before they begin. I hope the couples are compatible sexually and enjoy common interests. Mazel Tov!

 

 

Shirley Temple Hair

Owners look like their dogs and vice versa. Dogs and their keepers adapt to one another, so their appearances bear a resemblance. I saw look-a-likes in dog and mistress the other day. I viewed the canine and human from behind. The dog and mistress waddled their backsides slightly, not too much just a bit. As my eyes moved up, I observed the most remarkable similitude. The woman and the dog sported the curliest light brown hair I have ever seen. The shade was apricot, the description used for blondish—brownish poodles. The woman’s hair was the identical cheerful color, not like an apricot more the crust on a perfectly baked baguette or wheat shimmering in the sun. Small ringlet curls about two inches long covered their head and body respectively, perfect curlicues, not frizzy in the least. The spirals bounced. I was astounded. Did the woman copy her dog’s curls? The dog appeared to be a poodle mix, probably the very popular Labradoodle (yellow Labrador Retriever mated with Standard Poodle). Everyone who is anyone has one now. Of course, not me. I always picked rescue dogs, and these popular mixes were already spoken for or never abandoned. Or was the dog owner always a blondish-brownish curly haired person? Is that why she selected the breed? Upon closer inspection, I realized that the woman needed a haircut. The dog’s hair was actually better groomed. These are the crazy sights on my daily walks. Most people do not notice these quirky occurrences. The woman with the curly hair is probably reasonably affluent. Her clothes looked classy and coordinated. She wore a stylish, black down coat and hip high top black sneakers; and the dog, of course, is not cheap, since the combination breeds with poodles are very popular. As the woman walked along the brick path, bordered by a stone wall, I guessed she was headed for one of the beautiful brick brownstones that remind me of being in Belfast, Northern Ireland. Most people do not think of lovely brownstones when they think about Northern Ireland. However, when I visited Belfast, my hotel was near a university which was situated in an area of well-maintained townhouses. I wonder if the woman is happy and healthy? I did not see any indication of her emotional or physical states. She walked at a good pace on a brisk, sunny March day which told me she valued exercise to some degree. And that was it. Gone into the distance, out of my field of vision. I have not seen her again.

It is High Time

     High time that people are educated about speech and language. As is my usual stance, I am baffled that Americans remain misinformed. Speech Therapists work in every public school in the United States. I provided speech therapy to hundreds of children in my 36 years of service. If one does the math, probably millions of people have been affected by a speech/language disorder of some kind.  There are those who have suffered a stroke and the concomitant speech and language deficits. King George VI, Queen Elizabeth's father, stuttered uncontrollably for years until he worked with a speech therapist. The story was the basis for the movie, The King's Speech. Now, we discover that our new President was treated for stuttering and has developed fantastic strategies for maintaing fluent speech. As recent as last Wednesday, at Biden's Inauguration, a young, gifted poet recited her magnificent work. It was revealed that she too had overcome speech problems as a child.

     First, definitions--Speech Impediment is not an acceptable term. It is to speech disorders what idiot or moron would be to those cognitively challenged. So, no, do not use the term. That CNN newscasters and the New York Times use these terms is indicative of being grossly misinformed, to put it kindly. The use of Speech Impediment was frowned upon when I was in graduate school in the mid 1970's. It is a term of the 1920's--1950's. There are different areas that encompass speech/language disorders. In the interest of not boring readers--Speech problems involve sound discrimination and production--articulation; stuttering--fluency; and voice--pitch, volume, quality, and prosody. Language problems relate to the comprehension and expression of oral language. Comprehension encompasses understanding vocabulary, grammatical structures, and auditory (aural) memory. Expression is defined as the oral production of vocabulary, syntax, and grammatical endings. Speech pathologists (therapists) treat individuals with deficits in the pragmatics of communication, the use of language--commenting, topic maintenance, and the complexities of the reciprocal back and forth of human communication. Speech Pathologists in medical settings also address breathing, swallowing, and chewing.

     President Biden had a fluency disorder which he probably deals with currently to some degree. No, he does not have dementia. No, he is not tired or lazy. No, he is not a bad speaker. And yes, he may ramble, but stutterers often do to avoid a block or being stuck on a word. This is a very embarrassing and humiliating situation for a stutterer. Amanda Gorman, the aforementioned poet, probably had a significant multiple articulation disorder as a young child. I treated children with this disorder which typically takes years of hard work to overcome. She referred to the /r/ sound, which in American English is a common--non-critical-- problem for man, due to the tongue placement necessary for the crisp /r/ sound and vowel--/r/ combinations considred correct pronunciation in certain parts of the country. Don't freak out Boston and the south, where the /r/ is often dropped. Many individuals have lisps or difficulty with the /s,z,sh,dg,zh/ sounds. Considered a mild difficulty, speakers who lisp either protrude their tongues for /s,z/ or produce slushy sounding words like shoe, George, mirage. 

     For some odd reason, there have been and currently are newscasters who have uncorrected speech patterns. Another common phenomenon--now that I have your attention--is the use of vocal fry. Young men and especially women purposely attempt to lower their natural pitch, thereby causing a raspiness to their voices, not a good idea for the health of the vocal cords.

     Just today, on Fresh Air on NPR, I heard a discussion about vocal cord damage in the form of polyps. Frequently, singers suffer from this damage which may or may not be corrected by improved vocal habits and/or surgery. Julie Andrews was unfortunately affected by surgery to remove polyps which caused permanent damage. My point in mentioning the program on NPR is that the discussion did not involve a professional in the field. The speaker was a former singer and now writer for the New Yorker magazine. I am sure the gentleman is a good writer, but he is not a speech pathologist or a medical specialist in laryngology. It is the latter two professionals who study the vocal mechanism and structure and should be supplementing any public discussion on the topic. 

     But, not quite yet. Speech pathologists are overlooked, much as nurses formerly were ignored. The majority of speech therapists are women who are highly educated and trained in the field. Just as physical and occupational therapists, the experts in their respective disciplines, are disregarded or underestimated for their important role in rehabilitation and special education. We are not just the helper in the hospital or school setting. We are not speech teachers rather experts in the complex field of speech/language disorders. Speech Patholigists are called upon to treat all manner of infants, toddlers, preschoolers, children of all ages, and adults. A speech therapist could have explained Biden's occasional vocal gaffes and errors rather than let his enemies begin yet another negative misinformation campaign.

     I am retired, and I am devoting my energy to writing now. I have been away from the field for eight years. I am surprised and dismayed that misconceptions continue to circulate as we enter the third decade of the 21st century.

"Be Best" (on the eve of the best--LAST--hours of the Trump years)

What a stupid, stupid phrase. Be Best what? Be the best person you can be is probably what someone in Melania Trump's circle was thinking. But, advisors do not speak English in the White House? No one could inform Melania, a native Slovenian speaker, that this phrase is grammatically incorrect? Perhaps--Be the Best. or Be Better. However, all of these phrases mean absolutely nothing--zilch, null, void--which is what sums up the #45 First Lady or FLOTUS. A pretty face, no not that. Attractive, yes. Beautiful clothes--sometimes. Statuesque and gorgeous hair: I will give Melania those characteristics. She was the least of our problems but seriously a little grace, courtesy, and common sense? 

Never a fan of Pat Nixon or Nancy Reagan, but they were polite. Laura Bush had warmth during her husband's worst moments. Barbara Bush exuded strength and purpose. Melania is the Slovenian model, who did not bother to learn proper English nor demonstrate kindness. She could have attempted to stop her husband from throwing papertowels; bent down to hug a child separated from his/her parents; or read a book to an elderly individual. But Princess Diana she is not. Zilch, zero, zed. Nada, nothing, null. I read that Melania did not even invite Jill Biden to tea which is a tradition.

 How can an individual given an opportunity to have influence do so little? I seem to ask that question frequently about people. She has not cried, laughed, smiled, or frowned. All she gave us was barely a smirk complemented with narrowed eyes. 

What was Be Best? I thought the slogan referred to ceasing bullying on the Internet. The intended campaign did not occur, and her husband was the meanest bully to appear on the national stage. Today, #45 touted his wife's work by commenting about opioids and foster children. If only, if only opioid use could have been decreased and foster children helped. How sad, sad. So sad. Four years of horror + nothing. What does that equal? Just bad, bad trouble. 

Americans are sick, stressed, frightened, confused, and angry. I think we are unaware of the tension that lies within our bodies and between us, due to the last four years. I speak not of the obvious divides but the subtle snipes which occur daily. We are scared of the future actions of #45, even with 24 hours to go in his term. 

Our beautiful capital city is an armed camp which will take years to disassemble. I am ashamed and disgusted. Elections and the transfer of power are no longer seamless. Trump has managed to create ugliness in four years. 

Now is the time for truth, communication, and healing.