Let America be America Again, Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed–
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek–
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean–
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today–O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home–
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay–
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again–
The land that never has been yet–
And yet must be–the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine–the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME–
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose–
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath–
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain–
All, all the stretch of these great green states–
And make America again!

Megan Carnahan- State University of New York at New Paltz- New Paltz, NY
??? am: This girl finds the audacity within her to stop in front of my dormroom and yell at her boyfriend. “ALEX. Why would you do that? Well then stop it!”…on and on for another forty-five minutes until my roommate gets up and yells at her.
7:05 am: Two alarms have gone off. This is the start of my day.
7:08 am: Oh, that means I have to do things. Like go to class. I stay in my bed because it is warm and then about forty minutes later I leave with ripped jeans and a flannel shirt.
8:01 am: I’m one minute late because of the construction in New Paltz. They frequently change the paths and every morning the students run around like sheep following signs that say “Alternate route to Sojourner Truth Library” in obscure handwriting on a loose-leaf piece of paper.
8:10 am: English is a nice class, except that no one talks so I have to take it upon myself to raise my hand…every single time.
9:15 am: Ok, a nap sounds in order.
10:15 am: I get a text from my good friends in the basement floor to “come 2 breakky.”
10:45 am: Unfortunately, we have not left because of my friend Rebecca who was busy cleaning her room.
10:50 am: She’ll be able to find us.
11:00 am: Hasbrouck Dining Hall. This is where everyone goes to socialize amongst mediocre food, except for breakfast and dessert. If you want lunch or dinner, you’re out of luck.
11:50 am: I start to walk to my last class of the day, Intro to Theatre. During this walk I stick one hand into my coat pocket and one earbud of my Ipod into my left ear and hum along to Neutral Milk Hotel or, if I’m daring, The Cool Kids. This is also my largest class, with one hundred kids- 99% of them being theatre majors. I sit alone in the third row anxiously awaiting the Powerpoint presentation on Elizabethan times. The only reason I still come to class is because of my professor and his occasional slipping of the “f” word, not to mention other curses that some college kids have never heard of.
1:30 pm: This is where I go back to my room and relax. By relax I mean go on Facebook and upload pictures of the other day when I went to the lake. This is also where I talk to my roommate, who will most likely be partially naked when I speak with her.
4:00 pm: Oh no. I stayed on Facebook for two and a half hours. This marks the death of me.
5:00 pm: After I have been sucked into the vortex of the internet, I recieve more texts from three different groups of people. These tend to say, “when r u goin to Hazb?”
5:01 pm: I realize that college kids do not speak English.
7:00 pm: Agh! My friends and I spent two hours talking and people-watching. During this period of time I must have consumed at least 42,531 pounds of food.
8:00 pm: After digesting my Panda Paws ice cream, I head for the gym, where I listen to Lady Marmalade while destroying my legs on the eliptical.
9:14 pm: Shower. Now.
10:11 pm: Everyone is on AIM! I should talk to them!
12:00 am: Oops.
12:08 am: I jump in bed thinking about my Monday and I smile. Now come dreams of Christian Bale and my upcoming German midterm. Sleep is so nice, it erases all the bad thoughts awa- “ALEX!!!!”

Brittany Divirgilio- Fashion Institute of Technology- New York, New York
3:47 am: Finally going to sleep. I just finished my patterns and skirt for my Patternmaking class. I have been working on it since 7 pm and I am drained.
8:30 am: Ugh, my alarm goes off and I just want to stay in bed. My back is killing me from hunching over the workroom tables last night. I quickly wash my face, brush my teeth, and put on makeup. I need to look at least halfway decent for class, though. People at FIT tend to question why you are dressing down. That is the downside of going to FIT; you can’t really go to class in sweats and a hoodie.
8:55 am: I rush out of the door with all my patternmaking supplies (huge roll of paper, a toolbox filled with supplies, my purse, and muslin). I have to wait for the elevator because it would be a pain walking down sixteen flights of stairs with everything.
8:58 am: Does the elevator really have to stop at every floor?
9:01 am: I arrive at Patternmaking with time to kill. Class doesn’t start until 9:10, so I can quick iron my skirt and patterns.
9: 45 am: When will this critique end?! I really need to finish my classwork so I don’t have to do it for homework.
12:20 pm: I stayed a little bit late after class to finish my sleeve patterns that are due next class.
1:04 pm: I leave my dorm to go to Draping early. Maybe if I go before class starts I can get stuff done.
4:45 pm.: I didn’t finish my yoke bodice and skirt, but I’ll do it later because I have to go straight to my 5 pm English class.
6:02 pm: My English teacher called us “c*** sucking motherf***ing sluts” just to prove to us that we’re not going to be censored in her class. This is an interesting concept, but I still think she is psychotic.
7:12 pm: I make some rice and chicken in my kitchen and then go to the workroom to do Fashion Art & Design homework. Bathing suit collection due tomorrow! Oh joy.
12:24 am: Finally finish my presentation boards. Go back upstairs to my room.
12:28 am: I hop into the shower so I won’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to look presentable.
1:05 am: Finally, sleep:)

Allie Funk- SUNY University at Buffalo- Buffalo/Amherst, New York
7:30 am: My alarm goes off. Since I have two sleeping roommates to consider, I turn it completely off instead of pressing snooze five times.
8:12: I wake back up. Crap. A shower, pants, and some eyeliner, and I’m ready to sprint down to the shuttle stop where a bus will take me from my dorm in the Ellicott Complex to the Academic “Spine”, a little over a half mile away.
9:00 am: Sitting in my Social Psychology lecture, along with 350 other students. This is my best subject, so I tell myself it’s okay that I spend roughly 37% of the time starting at the cute blonde guy with the industrial piercing who sits in front of me.
10:00 am: I run over to the Student Union to get some food since I’m too lazy to wake up early enough to catch breakfast at the dining hall. I have every intention to find a quiet table and study as I eat, but instead I run into one of my friends and we talk for half an hour.
10:45 am: I run across the street from the Student Union to the University Commons, which contains a Starbucks. I’m definitely going to need some coffee to get through my next class, Early Film History. I actually have a wonderful professor for this class, but it’s hard to stay awake while watching a silent black-and-white film in a dark, cozy movie theater.
11:57 am: I reach the Center for the Arts (or CFA), where my class is located. I am reminded why I chose not to major in theatre when I notice that the theater kids are standing outside the CFA inhaling helium from balloons that they took from the Study Abroad fair inside, and then belting out showtunes in chemically-unduced falsettos. Ugh.
12:02 pm: Film History. Today we’re watching Sherlock Jr., a Buster Keaton film, and City Lights, a Charlie Chaplin movie. These are actually pretty decent films, so I should have no problem staying awa-…
12:53 pm: I wake up at the sound of my professor dismissing class. Crap. I gather my stuff together dash two buildings down on the Spine.
1:00 pm: Honors Colloquium. One requirement of the Honors College is that, through this class, I work with a few other students and design a community service project. We’ve spent the past two Saturdays getting up at the crack of dawn to go work in a soup kitchen in Niagara Falls. It has been less then pleasant.
2:14 pm: We got let out of Colloquium early, so my group and I head over to the Union for some lunch. Yay.
2:50 pm: I pick up to go to my next class, which is actually located in the same building that houses the school’s pool, fitness center, and indoor sports arena.
3:08 pm: Sitting in Visual Imagination, which is definitely my most unique class. The professor who teaches it is an incredibly interesting woman who once covered an entire couch in duct tape. Today we are recreating nature photographs of Ansel Adams by cutting the negative space out of black, grey and white construction paper.
4:20 pm: Too impatient to wait for the shuttle, I walk back to my dorm from the Spine and throw on some leggings. Then I run to the other side of the huge Ellicott complex to meet up with my roommate and a few of our friends for our 4:45 yoga class.
5:33 pm: I don’t think my leg is supposed to go that way.
6:20 pm: Having balance my chakra and whatnot, it’s time for dinner. We meet up with some more people and head to one of the two dining halls in Ellicott. It’s fondue night, apparently. I’m a happy camper.
7:10 pm: I relax in my room until a few friends come up to watch Gossip Girl at 8.
9:00 pm: My friend insists we watch One Tree Hill. I think I’ll work on my art journal for my indepent study course while the show is on, in order to prevent myself from losing too many brain cells.
9:03 pm: Although, this show is actually kind of interesting.
10:00 pm: I hate myself for having just watched that entire episode.
10:30 pm: My roommate and I videochat with her boyfriend at UMaryland and his friends for a while, and then I go to bed early. I only have one class tomorrow, but there are a lot of other things on my agenda that I have to do. If I get them all out of the way early, I’ll have virtually no obligations for the weekend. Bring it on…

There is no cover charge for the show. Cupcakes will be for sale for $1, and any additional donations will go to the campaign. The show will also feature the jewelry of Patricia Alonso, who will also be selling her pieces and donating a percentage to the campaign. The show will start at 9pm, but DJ Avi Flombaum will spin all night. GHQ Blogger Jamia Wilson will be rocking custom-made Obama gear along with about 20 other models.

Details: What: AuH2Obama Fashion Show Where: KABIN, 92 2nd Avenue (b/t 5th and 6th streets) F to 2nd Ave, walk five blocks North When: Friday, October 24, 10pm

These two articles are interesting because they speak to the distance and alienation many women who don’t fit into the hockey mom, gun toting, male-validation driven mold. I’m praying that women of color, lesbians and transgendered women, single women, and immigrant women who can vote band together on election day and make our voices heard.

Two Views on Sarah Palin and Women of Color

Sarah Palin and White Married Women

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In a profile just before the August 22 primary, the weekly newspaper Anchorage Press described Palin as “a small-town, angel-faced mother of four, an avid hunter and a fisher with a killer smile who wears designer glasses and heels, and hair like modern sculpture, who’s taking it to the boys every so softly.” I am totally speechless. The GOP is trying to appeal to the so-called “soccer mom” lobby and those who love them. I hope women will step up, vote smart, and show the world we won’t be duped. Rep. Jim Clyburn, the House Democratic Whip, told South Carolina ETV Radio that the Palin pick was “risky” and would prove to be as embarrassing to McCain as Dan Quayle was to former President Bush. “I do believe that McCain has to do something to reshuffle the cards, shake up the establishment, do something unexpected and Governor Palin…has all the kinds of things that McCain might see as a way to shake things up,” Clyburn said. “I think it would be something similar to Dan Quayle…Dan Quayle proved to be sort of an embarrassment as a campaigner. Being thrust on a national stage like that could be very tough.”

There is a growing epidemic that has infected millions in our society. This illness has been termed “affluenza” by psychologists and social critics who argue that spending and consumption has become such a widespread part of social pathology that  the acts of possessing and spending (excessively) has become a national pastime. Moreover, this social pathology has become even more violent and contagious as more and more people base their self-worth, status, and identity on the size of their wallet.

I recently attended a Zen Buddhist liturgical service discussing this destructive social problem. The monk leading the service referenced a study conducted by NYU’s Child Study Center that supported the idea that affluenza is rampant and troublesome. — And virtually no one is unscathed.

According to the study, symptoms of affluenza include: “debt, overwork, waste, and harm to the environment, leading to psychological disorders, alienation, and distress,” in adult subjects. Children’s symptoms include “lack of motivation … apathy, laziness, or failure to commit to and achieve goals … overindulgence and attitudes of entitlement”.

Click here to learn more about this ailment that plagues us all. I think that it is especially interesting to consider when thinking about discourses about the millenial generation and “generation debt”.

Here are the top five stories that I think make the Olympics the dramatic, fun-filled, controversial worldwide competition its meant to be:

1. The Unbeatable Michael Phelps - I’d sure hate to be anyone competing against Phelps, because I for one would automatically expect to come in second. I’m excited to see if Phelps will break Mark Spitz’s record tonight with eight gold medals. It’s great to see an athlete my age who is inspiring a whole upcoming generation of children to aspire to swim in the Olympics.

2. The Underage Chinese Gymnasts - Leave it to one country to “bend” the rules just a bit. One particular gymnast was said to be only 13, and the minimum age is 16 for female gymnasts (or at least turn 16 during the Olympic year). Some even had teeth missing, implying their much younger age. Some wondered if the gold would have turned out differently and gone to silver-medalists, the U.S. of A.

3. The lip-synching child at the opening ceremonies - Jamia already mentioned this story, and I found it incredibly sad to hear. The message this is portraying to young girls is appalling. This tells them that no matter how talented they may be, if they don’t look a certain way they will never succeed. This needs to change, and fast!

4. The first American woman to medal in the 10,000m track and field race since the early 1990s - Shalane Flanagan, after suffering food poisoning and nearly not competing, decided to give the race a try at the last minute. In an unbelievable finish Friday night, Flanagan went on to win a bronze medal. She finished the race and didn’t even know she had medaled, motioning to the press, asking where she had placed. It was a great success story.

5. Australia Coming in Third for Medal Count - Often overlooked athletically, Australia is thriving this summer in Beijing with 25 medals, behind only China and the U.S.

Although I am in no way a fan of Paris Hilton, I find this parody video to be a funny and snarky comeback at McCain for using Hilton’s image in a not entirely complimetary manner. McCain’s actions seem particularly rude given the fact that Hilton’s parents are supporters of the candidate and have donated to his campaign. So, good for Paris…although, I’d spring for Charlize Theron or Natalie Portman for VP.