The feather; the pen
Bienvenidos al noticiero: La Pluma. Welcome to the Newsletter.  

Hola <<First Name>>,

The sparklers sparkled. The sidewalk snakes were lit, curled up, and left black coils on the cement. The tiny white Poppers made dainty explosions delighting the children. The Fourth of July ended with a question posed by eight-year-old James. “What is Independence Day?” he wanted to know.
 
Where to begin? Breaking with England? The Boston Tea party? Why did those easterners sail west? What made them think they could just plant their flag in other peoples’ “living room?” What does, “Freedom and justice for all” look like?
 
This week the temps surpassed 90, encouraging us to rediscover the swimming hole in the bend of the Nokassippi river where kiddos have cooled themselves for generations. This one activity exercised freedom of movement, choices, opportunities, and advantages.
 
Moving on to justice. As kids, we often ran to our parents crying out, “That isn’t fair!” As adults, we morph from “fair” into “just.”  “No justice, no peace.” What privileges were we born with that made going with the “flow” of the day easier or more difficult?
 
In this month’s blog, I contemplate freedom and justice on the personal level via excerpts from my “Pen” Pal, Ana. Twenty-five years ago, Ana was locked up in a County Dade penitentiary. Sister Donna asked if I would take over this correspondence when she retired. My daily freedoms juxta-positioned with Ana’s life of confinement starkly remind me to be grateful, but also seek justice. More revelations. More Spanish connections.
 
Hasta la pasta,
Profe Jan(et)