• Call – Don’t Dis Me, Theme of the Month
• Response – Musings on Nobody’s Perfect, Anecdotes
• by – Mimi Peterson

About the Arts and Humanities

Happy National Arts and Humanities month! The White House issued its yearly proclaim that states: “The arts and humanities bring people together and show us that we have more in common than we have differences – helping us see each other, understand one another, and unite in common cause. Our artists and scholars embody the very spirit of America: the drive to create and connect, the pursuit of excellence, and the boldness to be truthtellers and change seekers. During National Arts and Humanities month, we celebrate the artists and scholars who lift us up, speak to our souls, and shape who we are as a Nation.” – Americans for the Arts, Arts Action Update, 10.2.24

Thank you, Art Root for your many initiatives in support of the Arts and Humanities in Racine, WI. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Words in Silhouette

Written words stabilize the oral exchange of anecdotal memory,                 Writing offers structure to its substance.
Words provide demarcation between personal stylization,
Enabling us to push aside space darkening curtains.

Silhouettes can be seen,  leaning against each other,
Bending toward light, As in Nature.
The silhouettes turn into sentinels, Each has a needle-like eye, 
A unique spy hole for evesdropping on what matters,
Guarding our textured history.                                                 mp, 10.19.2024

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OBSERVATIONS – Don’t Dis’ Me, Musings on Nobody’s Perfect , Anecdotes by Muse B, C, J, L, and Mi

“My Muses B, C, J, L dare to use forbiddens with destructive connotations, meant to nurture respect.” – OBSERVATIONS #9 – 9.30.24, mp

Meet “B” – You met Beverly on 9.21.24. Since than she isn’t quite sure, doesn’t quite remember, but thinks she suffered a fall. Her broken knees have been repaired. She is in rehab for the time being. That’s all I know, except that she has a new mirror to help her remember. In her past B was a health care professional.

Meet “C” – While standing in the garden of her home, located in a condo community, a woman called out from next door, “Are you the new owner?… With a name like Quintana, you never know who you might get for a neighbor.” C is an artist with degenerative disabilities.

Meet “J” – Severely injured in an auto accident, J spent months in hospital, in agonizing pain. In a whisper, she asked “Is there anybody to help? I hurt.” No one came. She screamed to get attention, A nurse entered, “The more you scream, the more I will ignore you”.

“Mom, please take me away from here, even for a few hours. Take me shopping. You can push my chair, will you?”. They entered the Boston Store. Aghast at the encounter, ignorant in their behavior, strangers stared and pointed at the metal halo encircling J’s head, screwed into her skull, holding her mind and body safely together.

Later, still rehabilitating, but at home, halo in place, afraid of hurting his Mother, J’s young son fluffed the feather pillow, than hugged it instead of her. J’s Mom prepared food for one. The little boy ate first, the alienated patient waited alone. Their distance felt like punishment.

Two decades have gone by, she wears a different kind of halo today. Working in the non-profit sector, helping the disadvantaged, the disabled with transportation needs. She reminds us in her friendly way, always say ‘Thank You’, to be heard.

Meet “L” – Going to high school in a small town near the Canadian border, L liked her ceramics art class best. Her hands were busy modeling clay one day, Teacher came from behind, pulled a sculpting wire across her throat, as he tightened it, said, “This is how we handled them in Nam”.

In a town so small, students did not understand they had the right to be truthtellers about Teacher. Not wanting to be a tattle-tale, girls and boys were forced to live the community code “keep still”. If work was labeled “Extra” , it qualified as trash. It meant that Teacher dissed it, to the tune of some lullaby singing in his head. Feeling trapped, deprecating remarks were not limited to artwork, but revealed feelings about the Self and each Other.

The class tough guy, was moody, naughty and nice. He was often sent to the principals office for going too far. He learned the ways of the disciplinarians, changed his behavior from bully to popular defender of the disesteemed, the disfavored among his peers.

L has a degree in psychology, understands her PTSD and speaks up for Others. She walks the beach to catch her breath, once cut off by Teacher. She looks for beach glass whose sculpted forms shine light on disqualifying gestures and words, once upon a time allowed by the elders.

Meet Mi – In the 5th summer of my life, my head was shaved bare. I was told that I would have more fun playing in sand and water, collecting sticks and stones, Oh! Don’t worry, wear a cute hat while it grows.

Everything about summer was my favorite. From June to Sept., we lived in a fisherman’s shack. Built on stilts, resisting the shifting sand beneath, a place to play hide and seek. We walked to the public pump in the valley, filled to the rim, carried water up the dune, arriving home with buckets half full. Bonfires and candles lit the pages of picture books, read before saying good-night. Sneaky visits to the under belly of the house, surprised the good goblins redesigning the sand in full dark sight.

We mostly walked barefoot, now I wonder why. Feet flaming hot, our rescuers carried us piggyback to fish in the lagoon. A stick, string, stale bread for bait was all it took. My flat stones skipped across the water’s surface, bouncing 7 times. Scared fish don’t nibble, wandering stones disrupted the family dinner.

September arrived, my hair, yellow like the sun, had grown silently, washed in Lake Michigan. Time to leave Indiana Sand Dunes, having learned to read Nature’s signs: sun and moon, rain and clouds, waves and calm, hot turned cool as the season changed. We were sad when the Seagulls sang good-by.

My first day of Dis began the next afternoon. The kindergarten teacher asked us to draw pictures and write our name. She hung the masterpieces on the wall, as she wondered aloud about the work, each child artist stood and told who we are and what we draw. My turn came, “Who is this Mimi? I never heard such a name, it is unlike Jack, Jim, Peggy or Patsy, Janet and Jean, the class twins.” I stood up – hair short, my dress to my knees. “I know who you are – you are your brothers brother, he was in kindergarten 2 years before.” Eeny, meeny, Mimi, Bro….

Come back to school tomorrow ready to write your full name, not a nick, speak in full sentences, not jazzed up English. School lasted a few hours each day that kinder year. I learned to spell and write my name by memory (and still do). But, this anecdote is not over, Teacher said “No last name ends with a Z, where are you from?” I changed the Z to X, it met with dismay. Finally, it became Chicago style XOXO. In the end, I am what I draw.

The last word is that the Arts and Humanities, like a Liberal Arts curriculum, represents education, not a political position.

My Musings continue, Nobody’s Perfect …some try …OBSERVATIONS on F, K, Y

Meet F – This firefighter went out of his way to help a man from his car. Broken concrete at his feet, afraid to fall, F grasped the strangers arms above the wrist, “Here, let me show you how we do it in Racine”, assisting in the successful uplift.

Meet K – Leaving physical therapy, the lady seemed alert, although she was curled up in the wheelchair. A hospital staffer pushed K to the curb to wait for her transportation. As she reached to lock the brakes, the commotion caused K to twist and twirl her body, with sight lines obstructed, “I almost said, I think I love you, …”, as staffer walked away and left her.

Meet Y – Yolanda, a smiling Walmart cashier and top personality, Saw a customer was short $1.87 for groceries, Firmly in charge, She paid it from her own pocket. Emotional “Thank You’s” were exchanged.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________Please use your personal experience, forensic instinct, and critical skills to fill in the gaps regarding these abstracted anecdotes of fleeting moments, recited to me by the ‘diss-ed’ in our community. Collectively, they have lived in Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, and more.

Thank you for your patience. OBSERVATION #10 is one week late. OBSERVATIONS #11 is coming 10.22.24, featuring Don’t Dis Me, anecdotes by M