HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!
Can I still say that in February? Sure, I can - it’s been a while since I left you with December celebrations and sentiment. And here we are in 2023 with renewed resolve and hope for some kinder, if not saner, moments ahead. We can give civility a chance by perpetuating it in our own little corners of the universe.
Now that we’re well into the Year of the Rabbit, life seems to be hopping along at a bouncy clip, prodding us insistently to keep the pace and set our sights forward. Hmm, can we at least check on those bewildered groundhogs, Chuck and Phil, that we passed on February 2? They seemed bleary-eyed and at odds with each other when we left them behind to fend for themselves. More on them later.
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February is Black History Month, and the theme this year is Black Resistance. What started in 1926 as Negro History Week, inaugurated by the “father of Black history” Carter Woodson, expanded fifty years later to Black History Month. Gerald Ford officially recognized BHM in 1976 to enable the public to “seize the opportunity to honor the too-often neglected accomplishments of Black Americans in every area of endeavor throughout our history.” With Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass both instrumental in the emancipation of slaves, and since both of their birthdays fall in February, it seems appropriate that February be designated Black History Month.
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"The Tuskegee Experience" - Documented Original Tuskegee Airmen (DOTA), 1941-1949
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Though February is the shortest month of the year, it is nonetheless a busy one. Also on the horizon this month is Presidents Day. It was originally established in 1885 in recognition of George Washington, close to his birthdate of February 22. It is always celebrated on the third Monday of the second month, thus creating a long three-day weekend. Often referred to as Presidents Weekend, the observance has become inclusive of multiple historical American presidents.
And let’s not forget Valentine’s Day! There are those who dare not forget it, and many who would like to. The commercial aspect has gummed up the works for the contingent preferring to steer clear of materialistic pursuits. Yes, retail establishments for designer chocolates, floral concoctions, purveyors of bling, and high-end romantic restaurants joyfully prepare in anticipation of V-Day, eager to hear a resultant “ka-ching, ka-ching” resounding in their ears. Such is the right and privilege of a democratic, capitalist society.
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Long ago and far away from the land of plenty and societal excess was a Valentine’s Day of a different sort. It was when my father, Bill, first laid eyes on my mother, Karola. It was in late Fall of 1946 in Germany, when she worked at the Army PX (post exchange) during the occupation. So smitten was he that in January of 1947, he wrote her a love letter. As a German-born American soldier, he wrote his declaration in German. When I saw and read his amorous words some years ago for the first time, I was awestruck by the fact that this was my FATHER! Touched and amazed to the marrow, I felt privy to his head and heart, to have a glimpse of him as a young man, a suitor in love. It drew me into magical moments suspended above a war-torn time in history, rendering me a virtual voyeur. During the entire timeline of my parents lives together, through thick and thin, their bond of love never wavered. I gratefully remain a living result of their blessed union.
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Heading back to our furry forecaster groundhogs, Staten Island Chuck and Punxsutawney Phil of PA, whatever happened with them? Turns out that Chuck did not see his shadow so, with a happy dance and sunglasses, he feels Spring is around the corner. Phil, however, did see his shadow and resigned himself to a polar siesta for another six weeks. Hey, you two, if you check the calendar, you’ll notice that the first official day of Spring is March 20, essentially six weeks after February 2. So, you’re both right, actually. And Chuck, you’ll love this…Daylight Saving Time begins March 12. Woohoo!!
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I’ve often wondered about the origins of Groundhog Day. It always seemed like a Disney diversion to me. Apparently, its roots stem back to a Christian tradition called Candlemas, celebrated February 2, forty days after Christmas. The date is the halfway point between winter solstice and spring equinox and marks the return of light. Parishioners brought candles to church to be blessed by the clergy; candles represented bringing light and warmth into the long and cold winter. Germans expanded on the concept by selecting an animal, the hedgehog, as a means of predicting weather. Quite a journey of genesis!
On the heels of February’s events and acknowledgements comes March, proverbially in like a lion and out like a lamb. The ball gets rolling early in the month, on March 8. That day in 1921 was the date established for International Women’s Day by the German activist Clara Zelig, with the original intent to mobilize working women. Just as Negro History Week evolved, so did International Women’s Day. During the 1970s the feminist movement further influenced the direction and scope of the day’s focus. By 1980 Jimmy Carter officially expanded the one-day holiday to become International Women’s Week, inclusive of the March 8 date. And by 1986 fourteen states recognized March as Women’s History Month; during the following year the U.S. Congress established it as an annual federally recognized observance.
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The 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion, the “Six Triple Eight,” was the only all-black, all-female battalion overseas during WWII in 1945. Their assignment was to process and deliver a backlog of mail to the fighting troops in Europe.
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St. Patrick’s Day on March 17 remains a one-day event, even though seeing green everywhere in everything can linger longer. The occasion celebrates St. Patrick, of course, and the arrival of Christianity in Ireland, as well as Irish heritage and culture. It seems to be the one day in the year that everyone is Irish.
The promise of Spring, officially starting in March, summons an awakening spirit and a hopeful outlook. Anyone who has seen colorful crocuses pushing up through a blanket of snow can attest to that. It is a transition of reaching for the light, where life is.
As we do that in our lives, especially after the past few unsettling years, I know it’s the simple pleasures that make all the difference these days.
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Having joyful things and adventures to look forward to provides a healthy tonic for the soul.
One tried and true tonic for me is travel. It opens doors and windows of all kinds. My next notable trip is planned for early summer and I will fill you in more about it in my next newsletter. Where am I headed? OK, I’ll give you a hint. It’s a country where residents are known to speak with their hands. As we know, movement and gesture speak volumes. Stay tuned.
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Wishing you well in every way, and sending you love.
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Journey Between Two Worlds
is an award-winning, firsthand account of growing up in Germany during the poverty and despair of the Great Depression and the fear and oppression of Hitler's Nazi regime, surviving the ravages and rubble of World War II, and ultimately gaining freedom and a resurrected life in America.
Karola Schuette describes in lyrical detail how her destiny is transformed forever when she meets a German-born US Army intelligence officer. Forging a life of new horizons and experiences in the United States, Karola opens our eyes to the liberties and opportunities that we may assume to be our birthright, and subtly and insightfully conveys that a democracy requires constant cultivation to sustain it.
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