I sit at my computer facing the end of another term. My second term as a Park University student flew by too quickly. I wish there had been more time, more time to write papers, and more time to spend learning about the fundamentals of math. Alas, time like a slippery eel in the hands of an angler has slipped away, and the time for reflection has come.
Throughout this term, I strived to improve on the skills learned last term in English 105 and to improve upon my weaker skills such as comma usage. I still describe my writing as green; however, this is the best color to be. I learned years ago, when I was a shift manager for a popular fast food restaurant, if one is green they are still growing. Growth makes way for learning. I like to look forward to the future. The past holds lessons learned, but the future holds lessons yet learned. Last term I wrote in my reflective essay that I dream of becoming a well-known author. I still hold onto that dream, but firmly believe, as the Bible tells me, that in life there is a season for everything. This is my season for learning.
I have learned a great deal about research and myself this term. I have learned that research is a process that has evolved from when I was last in school. Hours, perhaps even days, spent pouring over card catalogs are gone. Technology has given us the ability to do vast portions of our research in front of a computer. We can even do this in our pajamas from the comforts of home if we prefer. While technology has made the availability of information easily accessible and plentiful, it does not allow one to wait until the last possible moment. While doing research, I learned that I need to allow myself time to read and digest the information I have gathered. Learning is a continual process; this term I learned that I must read my sources, think about my sources, and then write about them. A concept I learned about last term, the reading, thinking, and writing connection has continued to be an idea I expand upon.
The reading, writing, and thinking concept requires the student to allow for sufficient time necessary in order to be successful. Unfortunately, this does not bode well for the writer, such as me, who tends to be a bit of a procrastinator. While I realized the research process was perhaps quicker than the last time I wrote a research paper, the time it takes to gleam the information is the same. In order to do the topic and writer justice, one needs to allow sufficient time to employ the reading, writing, and thinking connection.
When I am snuggled in my favorite blanket with a steaming mug of my favorite German peppermint tea sweetened to perfection, I enjoy nothing more than reading a good book. As long as the author invokes my five senses, it matters not whether that book is a sappy romance novel, an exciting mystery, or an intriguing non-fiction. I am almost certain that I learned about figurative language in the many English classes of my youth. Yet for some reason when we discussed them in class this term the light bulb turned on inside my head. I enjoy painting a picture for my reader as much as I enjoy reading a picture made of words. Using my words as the media for my art I hope to succeed in writing beautifully painted, thought provoking papers in my future classes.
In my season of learning, I will work on honing my craft. Since I am in the beginning stages of my degree program, I foresee copious papers written in my epoch as a student. With each paper, I hope to learn more about the given or chosen topics and take the opportunity to improve upon my writing style.
I think one of the most valuable lessons I have learned over these two terms is that writing is just like any skill. In order to maintain and improve upon my skill level I must continue to practice my craft. How might a busy student, wife, and mother do that? The numerous papers that I am certain are in my future will lend a hand in the need for practice. In spite of this, I feel that I will need a regular reason for writing.
For over a century, the leaders of my church have been counseling members to keep journals for our posterity. It is important for our grandchildren and their grandchildren to know the rich history they come from. I am finally feeling the call to maintain a real pen and paper journal, not the neglected blog. One day my daughter and perhaps her children may come to cherish my handwritten journals. Meghan's children may enjoy reading of their mother's antics and the adventures we have as a family. Perhaps the trials we overcome will some day help my posterity through trials of their own. I wish my grandparent's had written down their many adventures. Each of them lived exciting and rich lives, the stories they told me are left to my faltering memory.
My experience thus far as a student has been as rich as the finest chocolate available in Europe. Once I bit into the knowledge handed to me by my instructors, it melted and became one with my mind. I have thrived on the knowledge imparted upon me just like that fine European chocolate that leaves you with a divine sense of euphoria.
This term in English, I have learned that I need to allow time when doing research to permit the reading, thinking, and writing connection to absorb into my mind so that I can produce a quality paper. I remembered that writing is a craft that needs constant attention in order to hone one's skills. Writing is like riding a bike, you may never forget how, but you will not be as good as you once were if you are neglectful for long periods. I realized that I could practice my craft by writing my history for my posterity. Most importantly, I remembered that there is a season to every thing in our lives. Right now, I am in the season of learning. One day I will realize my dream of being a published author, one day you will see my name on the cover of a fine piece of well-written art. Then I will be in my season of creating.
2 December 2009 (Sadly I had to remove the pictures of quilt blocks that are in the actual paper I wrote. You can find them here.)
Quilting the Way to Freedom
I am a slave named Anna. Working from sun-up to sun-down, I have lived my entire life on this plantation. This past winter, my family spent any spare moment preparing for our daring escape to freedom. I will run fast and hard from this plantation, never looking back. “Any day now,” Daddy says, “we will see the signal to run.” As I lie down on my pallet made of hay, I pray tomorrow will be the day we run. Drifting off to sleep, I finger the frayed edging of the quilt made by daddy’s mama. I can feel the older quilt Nana used as the batting under the thin fabric of my quilt. Nana made this quilt for the master’s spoiled daughter, but it is too worn from numerous washings in the harsh lye for her fancy desires. Now it is mine and I will take it with me when I jump onto the Underground Railroad. Nana told me each of the blocks on this quilt will guide me on my journey as though she herself were guiding me with her loving hand. I will miss Nana when we go, but she is too frail for the journey that awaits us.
There is a burgeoning belief that slaves used quilts as mnemonic devices to prepare and guide fugitive slaves on their marronage, or flight from slavery. Historians and scholars who believe the quilt code existed have caused rancor among the scholars who believe the theory is nothing more than fairy tales concocted to make the tender hearted feel warm and fuzzy. These scholars dismiss the notion of a quilt code due to lack of physical evidence. Some scholars feel it was too dangerous to use quilts as guides for escaping slaves (Ingalls, par. 15). As an amateur, tender-hearted quilter I tend to believe the notion that slaves used a non-verbal method for guidance in their flight towards freedom. I choose to believe quilts were used as mnemonic devices for slaves fleeing via the Underground Railroad. Additionally, it is my opinion that we cannot dismiss oral history.
I would like to begin by briefly explaining the Underground Railroad. In my research I came across an article written by Nancy Pollock-Ellwand, I feel her statement is the simplest description of the Underground Railroad. “The Underground Railroad was the evocative name given to a network of abolitionist sympathizers who ran ‘stations’[sic] where food and shelter were provided to fugitive blacks….It had no tracks and no trains but it was the route that thousands took to freedom” (372). Much like trains are driven by conductors, there were conductors in the Underground Railroad that served as guides for runaway slaves. One well-known conductor is Harriet Tubman. Tubman was a slave that gained her freedom by escaping. She then began working with abolitionists to aid other slaves in breaking the bonds of slavery. Tubman helped more than 300 slaves run for freedom in 19 trips made to the South during ten short years (“Harriet,” par. 1). I remember reading in a biography of Harriet Tubman that she spent her days as a conductor hidden in forests quilting while she waited for the safety of night to lead her charges to freedom.
Quilting is an art form that has been popular for thousands of years. “The first known depiction of quilting is from 3400 B. C….The earliest known bed quilt dates from fourteenth-century Sicily” (Bial 18). Quilts are used for more than keeping humans warm while they slumber. The art of quilting provided women a creative outlet during a time when it was expected for females to remain in the home as docile homemakers. They are also used as decoration and a method for keeping track of a family’s history (Bohde, 71). Africans brought with them a rich tradition of quilting to the Americas, a skill they used to sew traditional patchwork quilts for their masters.
Jacqueline Tobin and Raymond Dobard, Ph.D. interviewed Mrs. Ozella McDaniel Williams for their book Hidden in Plainview. Numerous quilt codes might exist as each plantation had slaves from different areas of Africa who brought with them their own traditions. The code I am writing of is the code told to Tobin and Dobard by Mrs. Williams. This quilt code passed down through the generations of her family is as follows:
There are five square knots on the quilt every two inches apart. They escaped on the fifth knot on the tenth pattern and went to Ontario, Canada. The monkey wrench turns the wagon wheel toward Canada on a bear’s paw trail to the crossroads. Once they got to the crossroads they dug a log cabin on the ground. Shoofly told them to dress up in cotton and satin bow ties and go to the cathedral church, get married and exchange double wedding rings. Flying geese
stay on the drunkard’s path and follow the stars (Tobin 22-23).
The names of quilt blocks, also known as patterns, in the above quilt code are in bold type.
In Mrs. William’s quilt code there are ten different quilts. In order to help slaves memorize the code, it is theorized that seamstresses made smaller quilts with each of the ten blocks. These smaller quilts are known as sampler quilts (Webb, 3). They are used to teach how to piece, or sew, quilt blocks together. Since sampler quilts were a common teaching tool, masters and overseers would not be suspicious about seeing these small quilts in the hands of seamstresses and the young girls they taught.
Instead of using stitches to secure the layers of the quilt, slaves used twine to tie the quilt layers together. Even the ties are thought to contain a hidden message (Bohde, 72). Tobin and Dobard theorize that the ties become a visual form of communication. The knots were two inches apart and formed a grid like pattern on the back of the quilt. It is thought that this grid correlated to distances like the grids found on maps. They also believe that five square knots per tie correlate with an African tradition of tying knots used in an incantation, similar to the Rosary for Catholics. This imparts a protective power to the knots. Therefore, perhaps the slaves felt this provided them protection on their journey (Tobin 75-76). Not every quilt had five knots, but by the time the tenth quilt was displayed there were five knots and this signified the time of preparations was over and it was time to leave.
The quilts were hung out to “air” to alert slaves the steps needed to be completed in the process of preparation. As it was common to see quilts hanging on fences or in windows to air out, the slave quilts would not garner the attention of the masters or overseers. Thus, this would be a relatively safe method of spreading a message among slaves without fear of punishment. It is not known for sure how long each quilt was displayed; however, it is suspected that each quilt was “aired” until all who were escaping had completed the task associated with that particular quilt (Webb, 2-3).
“The monkey wrench turns the wagon wheel…” (Tobin 22). The first quilt displayed was the monkey wrench. The monkey wrench is thought to indicate that it is time to gather all the tools necessary for the journey. This includes the physical, mental, and spiritual tools (Webb, 5). One would need more than physical tools to endure the journey they were about to face. A slave also needed knowledge and emotional well being. Furthermore, Tobin and Dobard suggest that the monkey wrench might have referred to the blacksmith who was an integral part of African tribal societies due to his knowledge. This quilt could signify that the slave needs to gain an education about the world outside the plantation from the blacksmith. He was a slave who was commonly hired out and had seen the world beyond the confines of the plantation (Tobin 85-87).
The next quilt was the wagon wheel. This quilt told the escaping slaves that it was time to begin packing the items needed for the journey as if they were pioneers crossing the plains. In addition, it is thought that this quilt alerted that an actual wagon with hidden compartments for hiding slaves was in the area and would soon be ready to leave for freedom.
The bear’s paw told runaways to follow trails into mountains, out of sight of slave hunters. Bear trails aided in disguising the runaway’s tracks and helped to elude slave hunters. Likewise, this pattern told slaves to follow the actual trails of bears to find food and water.
The crossroads block refers to Cleveland, Ohio. Cleveland acted as a hub where numerous routes broke off heading in several different directions. This block also referred to the less literal meaning of the slave reaching a crossroads in his or her life and needing to make the life-or-death decision of staying or fleeing (Johnson-de Matteis).
“Once they got to the crossroads they dug a log cabin on the ground” (Tobin 22). There are several theories behind the log cabin pattern. Tobin and Dobard opine that perhaps fugitives drew the log cabin design in the dirt as a secret symbol to determine if they were among others who would provide safety. Their reasoning behind this theory is that log cabins are buildings built above ground, not dug into the ground (Tobin 103-104). Others believe that a log cabin quilt hung out to air indicated that location was a safe house. Some even believe the color of the center square designated the home as a safe house.
“Shoofly told them to dress up in cotton and satin bow ties and go to the cathedral church, get married and exchange double wedding rings” (Tobin 22-23). Shoofly was another quilt block that referred to a person who could help or guide slaves. This was a person who probably knew the codes. I surmise this person was probably a conductor for the Underground Railroad.
The bow tie pattern told the runaway it was time to change out of the tattered clothes of a worker and dress in fancier clothes as if they had always been free African Americans and never slaves (Johnson-de Matteis). It was time to blend into their surroundings because now they were in areas that had abolished slavery.
Tobin and Dobard suggest that the cathedral church does not refer to a church specifically, but rather a cave as a safe place to hide. Additionally, they put forward that perhaps it did refer to a church with stained glass windows that would help hide any fugitives from people peering in. We know that when slaves married they did not exchange wedding rings; instead they jumped over a broom. Jumping the broom is a tradition still in practice today. Perhaps this portion of the code referred to literally going to a chapel to marry and exchange wedding rings. The double wedding ring quilt pattern did not exist until after the American Civil War. However, the double Irish chain was a popular quilt pattern of the time and is thought to represent the chains of slavery. Perchance this part of the code told the runaways it was time to shed the clothing and bondages of slavery. Telling them to seek a church where an abolitionist was available to help in the removal of the literal chains of slavery (Tobin 105-109).
“Flying geese stay on the drunkard’s path and follow the stars” (Tobin 23). The flying geese pattern was a reminder to follow the direction of migrating birds. Many scholars believe that slaves fled for freedom in the spring. Migrating birds would lead the fugitives toward food, water and perhaps safe places to rest. The quilter had immense creative liberty with this quilt block since it could be inserted into any quilt. This block could easily be modified to serve as a compass. With slight changes to fabric choices, one of the four sets of geese could be arranged as if it were a compass pointing north (Johnson-de Matteis; Tobin 111-112).
Drunkard’s path reminds fugitives to vary the route traveled in order to confuse slave hunters. If an African American was seen traveling south they would not raise suspicion, however, an African American traveling north would most certainly be captured.
The North Star block has two mnemonic meanings; one is to prepare for the escape. The other is to follow the North Star northward towards freedom. Sometimes this signal was used in tandem with the song “Follow the Drinking Gourd,” as it referenced the Big Dipper constellation. The North Star resides in the handle of the Little Dipper (Johnson-de Matteis).
Mrs. Williams tells Tobin and Dobard that the tenth and final quilt hung out to air was the tumbling blocks quilt. This quilt takes a great deal of skill to fabricate as the quilter must cut the pieces precisely, choose the right hues of fabric, and sew the pieces accurately in order to achieve the 3D effect associated with this pattern. It is on this quilt that there were five square knots signifying it is time to flee (Tobin 71).
Research has shown that color played an important role in the quilts used to convey the secret code. Blue in many African cultures is thought to be a spiritual color. When blue is combined with the color white it is believed to bring protective powers. This particular color combination was extremely popular during the antebellum era; therefore, it would be easy to hide the true meaning of the quilt from the masters and overseers of plantations (Tobin 50).
As I have stated before, this is only one possible quilt code, there are most likely additional quilt codes and mnemonic devices used to aide slaves in their pursuit for freedom. From the moment of capture, slaves actively searched for an escape to freedom. They did not passively wait for rescue by abolitionists (Tobin 54). Conducting meetings amongst other slaves brought the fury of the maser or overseer raining down on the slaves like a furious storm. Therefore, I speculate that they turned to the tradition of their ancestors in using everyday objects for communicating secrets. The use of common objects is rather ingenious as these objects were seen so often that they were no longer noticeable (Webb, 4). This is why the use of quilts to convey secret messages would have been successful for slaves plotting their run for freedom.
Along with mnemonic devices, such as the quilts, oral history is the essence of African and African American tradition. Griots were African storytelling musicians who were guardians of history. The job of a griot was to keep a mental record and pass on information regarding ancestral lineage, customs, beliefs, events, names, dates, and legends. Griots learned and taught using oral history. They relied on their memory and were often aided by the use of mnemonic devices which even included textiles. African American elders understand the importance of their oral history and have instructed select family members to commit to memory the stories passed from generation to generation. These family members are then instructed to pass on the information to future generations insuring the history lives on as though it were a living creature (Tobin 27, 31, 36-37). I believe in the validity of oral history because much of my family’s history is an oral history. I spent many hours listening to the stories of my dad's parents—an oral history rich in tradition.
Secrecy was the only way for the slaves to protect themselves; this is a trait that exists still today among African Americans. Even small children were taught to keep secrets from those outside the family. For this reason, controversy exists among historians and scholars. Oral history means that written proof of the slave quilts is unavailable. Stories, passed from generation to generation starting with the slaves, are the only evidence to stand the test of time. Due to the secrecy there are still numerous stories that remain to be told (Webb, 1, 4). Elders are beginning to break decades of silence, perhaps as the stories are told we will learn more (Tobin 31).
Since most slaves were illiterate and it was illegal to teach them how to read and write, codes became their form of communication—their path to freedom. These codes complemented their traditional ways of maintaining secrecy and using mnemonic devices. Quilting has been a communication tool for many different cultures and became the cryptography, or secret writing, used as the slaves plotted escape from the oppressive life on plantations. Quilts were the secret code hidden in plain view of plantation owners and overseers.
Even though some scholars feel that using quilts was too risky, I feel it was perhaps the safest method to prepare and guide slaves on their way to freedom. Masters and overseers gave no thought to women sewing quilts as slaves often sewed quilts for the masters to use (Bial 26). They probably even praised elderly female slaves for being productive as they taught young girls how to sew quilt blocks used in the code. However, it was extremely dangerous for slaves to use spoken languages to plan and prepare for marronage.
There are those who dismiss the idea of quilts containing secret codes for fugitive slaves because the idea is based solely on an oral history and to date there have been no surviving quilts found. I put forward the notion that perhaps there are families who are descendants of slaves, slave owners, and even abolitionists that have an old tattered quilt hidden away for safe keeping. This tattered quilt, that is most likely mere shreds of old fabric, could very well be the physical proof disbelievers are screaming for. Quilts did not survive the harsh washing methods of long ago. The quality of the fabric used was not as sturdy as the mass produced fabrics we see in the mega craft stores of today. The quality of fabric and harsh washing methods hastened the deterioration of quilts from that time period. It was once common practice to use old tattered quilts as the batting in new quilts (Tobin 47). I submit that there might be surviving slave quilts inside other quilts.
In conclusion, I feel that slaves used quilts to convey secret messages about escaping the bondage of slavery. Africans brought to this country many strong traditions to include quilting, using textiles as mnemonic devices, maintaining secrecy among tribes and families, and the sharing of history by word of mouth. I believe with this knowledge, we would be foolish to dismiss the possibility of slave quilts guiding fugitives along the Underground Railroad. I feel that if we continue to dismiss an oral history of peoples who make up a vast part of the tapestry of this country, it is as if we refuse to let a wound that has been trying to heal for over a century scab over. Perhaps it is time for the doubtful to think of the quilt code as a possibility rather than definite fact or fiction. As Anna Lopez, the education coordinator at the Plymouth Historical Museum, said, “What I tell kids is, who writes history? Men do….Then I ask, who made quilts? Women did, and a lot of black women made quilts and passed on their oral history. No one wrote down their history, so who knows?” (qtd in Stukin, par. 6). As a final thought, Tobin and Dobard tell us that only the events chosen to be documented and remembered dictate history (53). The time has come to document the abounding memories passed through generations. Slaves of days gone by are crying out to be acknowledged as more than mere property—they are crying out to be remembered as valiant people who never gave up on the dream of freedom.
Works Cited
Bial, Raymond. With Needle and Thread. Boston: Houghton, 1996. Print.
Bohde, Stefanie. “The Underground Railroad Quilt Code.” Oakland University Journal
n. d.: 70-79. Web. 6 Nov. 2009
“Harriet Tubman.” Africans in America. PBS. Web. 20 Nov. 2009
Ingalls, Zoe. “Two Scholars Show How Quilts Offered More Than Warmth on the Underground Railroad.” The Chronicle of Higher Education 46.24 18 Feb. 2000: B2. Fine Arts and Music Collection. Web. 6 Nov. 2009.
Johnson-de Matteis, Bonita. “Quilt Codes.” Owen Sound’s Black History. City of Owen Sound, n.d. Web. 30 Nov. 2009.
Pollock-Ellwand, Nancy. “Travelling the Route from Designation to Local Action.” International Journal of Heritage Studies 12.4 Jul. 2006: 372-388. Academic Search Premier. Web. 20 Nov. 2009.
Stukin, Stacie. “Unravelling the Myth of Quilts and the Underground Railroad.” Time 3 Apr. 2007. Academic Search Premier. Web. 6 Nov. 2009
Tobin, Jacqueline L., and Raymond G. Dobard, Ph. D. Hidden In Plainview. New York: Doubleday, 1999. Print.
Webb, Sheila D. “Quilt Codes.” MLAS 280-07: Cryptography. 13 July 2009. Vanderbilt University. Web. 6 Nov. 2009.
I thought I had selected a fine historical figure to write this paper on, however, I began to worry that my perceived image of her was the image Hollywood would have us believe. In struggling with my topic, I was reminded that it is best to stick to our roots. That is how I evolved from writing about Queen Elizabeth I to one of the queens of country music. I remembered hearing of a little girl who used anything she could get her hands on as a microphone. She sang anywhere she had an audience. It did not matter if it was on her back porch when she lived just outside of FortBragg in North Carolina, the backseat of the car, or on the hearth of the fireplace in her underwear. I am that little girl, and I wanted to grow up to be Dolly Parton. One year my mother and her best friend dressed me up as Dolly for Halloween--complete with her trademark bosom. For as long as I can recall, I have loved singing along to the radio, especially when country music wafted through the speakers. Dolly Parton has always been a favorite artist of mine. I have continuously admired her talent, but as I have grown older, I have come to admire Dolly Parton the person. I admire her feisty, mischievous manner, her spirituality, her ambitiously strong work ethic, and the fact that she started out as a dreamer and remains a dreamer to this day.
Dolly Parton is the daughter of a sharecropper. The daughter of Avie Lee and Robert Lee Parton, she made her earthly appearance on, January 19, 1946. It was a cold winter day in east Tennessee when the doctor arrived to aid in a difficult delivery. Dolly’s father was poor and paid for the service of Dr. Thomas with a bag of cornmeal. Dolly is the fourth of twelve children (Parton 2-4). She began writing songs at the tender age of seven (Waddell). As a young girl she spent her time dreaming and reading anything she could get her hands on (Dolly ix).
Dolly is a feisty and mischievous lady, her spunk started in her youth. Dolly relayed a rather amusing story in her autobiography. The floorboards in their small country home were set far apart. The chickens would go under the house and poke their beaks up through the space between the floorboards. The chickens were drawn to this area because as kids they would feed the chickens bits of crackers and bread through the floor boards. Dolly would grab ahold of the chicken’s beaks when they poked through the floorboards. The poor chickens would flail feriously for the few moments Dolly held them suspended by their beaks through the floorboards. She goes on to write that it was a good thing her daddy never caught her or, “many a sore chickenbeak would be avenged on my backside in short order” (Dolly 16-17).
Chickens were not the only victims of her feisty, mischievous ways. Dolly is known for her trashy sense of style. Even in her younger days she enjoyed dressing in tight clothes, bleaching her hair platinum blonde, and adorning her face with a thick layer of make-up. Her grandpa Owens was a preacher and disapproved of her style. He thought she was headed straight to hell and would call her Jezebel. He would tell her that the devil made her wear her clothes tight and bleach her hair. True to her feisty personality, she would respond, “No offense, Granddaddy, but I did this all by myself. The devil had nothing to do with it” (Dolly 96-97).
I can relate to Dolly’s feisty personality, as I have a feisty streak in me as well. While I did not torment chickens in my youth, I did however, torment my younger siblings. There are not many instances that I would not be brave enough to boast about. In fact, there is one in which I am particularly ashamed of my actions. I was about eight-years-old and my brother J.C. was almost two-years-old. J.C. and I were eating our dinner of chili while my mother and step-father were preparing for a night out. In my devious eight-year-old mind I had determined that my chili was just right, however, I felt J.C.’s could be hotter. What better way to spice up a bowl of chili than with several shakes of the tabasco bottle? Poor J.C. took one bite and began to howl like a distressed animal. After threats of being grounded for a whole month, I confessed to spicing up my baby brother’s chili. Of course, I did get a spanking to remember. At the time I didn’t feel apologetic towards my brother because I was the one who got a spanking. Now I feel incredibly horrible for tormenting him that evening.
My faith is what carried me through J.C.’s death almost five years ago. My brother died on Christmas Eve in 2004. His death devastated our whole family. He not only left behind grandparents, parents, and siblings, but a young son and numerous friends. If my brother were still with us, I would apologize profusely for the chili incident. My spirituality allows me to believe that we will one day be reunited as a family, I will get the chance to make my ammeds at that time.
Dolly also comes from a spiritual family and community. I am sure it was her faith in God that helped her in the death of her baby brother Frankie. Dolly writes in her book “In my childlike way, I came to understand that death is only frightening to those of us left behind. I made peace with that idea, and with God…” (Parton 66)
Dolly’s spirituality flows through all aspects of her life. You can hear it in her song writing, and if you venture to her amusement park, Dollywood, it is all around you. Dollywood has a chapel that is named for the doctor who delivered her, Dr. Thomas. It also has a book store that is staffed by preachers in training and offers Bibles and other Christian based books (Dollywood).
In addition to her feisty streak and her strong faith in God, Dolly possesses a strong work ethic. The fact that Dolly is still working hard in her sixties is evidence of this. Dolly once said, “I might have had a small delay here or there but honey, they’ll be peeling my body off the stage if and when heaven calls we home (Iannacci).”
Merely one day after graduating high school in 1964 she headed to Nashville, Tennessee (Waddell). Her success was not overnight, it took a great deal of work. Most people do not realize the enormity of success she has achieved in her career. Dolly has sold over 110 million records, has had 25 No. 1 singles, has released over 79 albums, and has published over 3000 songs. (Waddell) Music is not the only avenue Dolly’s ambitous work ethic has taken her.
Dolly is in the process of developing a weekly Children’s TV show, she authors children’s books and music. Dolly has publishing, film, and TV production assets. And as if she was not busy enough, she also wants to develop her own make-up line. Dolly wants to produce herself and a few other artists she has faith in. To add to an already busy schedule, she is interested in doing TV specials and possibly a few more movies (Waddell). She said in an interview once, “…I never intend to retire (Waddell).”
While I haven’t accomplished any of the great feats Dolly has in her life, I do believe in working hard for what I want. I can remember helping my mother and grandmother with the canning and jam making. My work ethic started when I was a young girl. I worked all summer picking berries to afford new school clothes in the fall.
I firmly believe that we need to use our abilities to give back to our communities in which we live. I grew up extremely poor. The house we rented when I was a freshman in high school was about to be torn down by the owner--we had no where else to go. Our pastor introduced Habitat for Humanity to my parents. Over the course of about nine months, my family volunteered with Habitat putting in sweat equity hours that would be used as a down payment towards a house of our own. I learned a huge amount through that experierience. I learned how to hang drywall and how to serve my fellow man.
Dolly has also given back to her community with a program that I feel is very important. I believe that the love of reading starts in infancy and at home. Dolly’s program Imagination Library was started in 1995 in her home state of Tennessee in SevierCounty. The Imagination Library sends children a book every month from birth to the age of five. The funding for this project comes from Dolly’s own nonprofit organization Dollywood Foundation. The Imagination Library has been awarded numerous awards. The awards have sparked vass media attention causing other communties throughout the country to ask how to start imagination libraries of their own. Dolly has since offered the program to any community that is willing to support it (“Dolly Parton: Book Lady”). “The project now serves more than 180 communities….In these communities, the project is funded by local supporters…. (“Dolly Parton: Book Lady”).”
All of her successes have come to her because of her strong work ethic, but also because she was brave enough to dream. Dolly once said, “I wake up with new dreams everyday (Waddell).” I believe dreams are vital as we traverse this experience called life. Our dreams, our ambitions tell us which paths to take. No dream is too grand if one is willing to work for it. I once dreamed of being a mother; the road to becoming a mother was a hard one riddled with the ruts of disparity that come with infertility. However, I endured and am now the mother of a precious little girl. Going back to school was also a dream of mine. I did not see how it was feasible with a young one at home. I followed where my dream took me, and now find myself writing a research paper on Dolly Parton for my English class.
Despite her feisty, mischievous personality, one can see why I admire Dolly. Although, I feel her spunk makes her who she is. Her spirituality leads her every day, “My whole life I’ve asked God to guide me and lead me. I live by that code and I listen close. (Waddell)” My own faith has lead me through some very difficult times, and continues to inspire me to be the best I can be. Dolly’s strong work ethic has led her to great successes, and it inspired her to give back to her community. She does all this with an air of confidence that waifts around her like the aroma of a lovely perfume. My favorite quote of Dolly’s is, “I don’t regret anything I’ve done; I regret that I got caught doing some of it….But to say you’d like to change it all, to change one thing might change the whole picture… (Waddell).” I too, do not regret any of the experiences life has handed me. Some have been on a silver platter, and some have been on a platter laced with thorns, but they have all contritbuted to who I am. I like who I am.
Works Cited
“Dolly Parton: Book Lady.” Reading Today 20.4. Feb/Mar. 2003: 1. Academic Search Premier. Web. 2 November 2009.
In her article “America’s Death March Toward Illiteracy,” published in the 28 April 2007 edition of The Washington Post, Kathleen Parker wrote, “A 2004 report by the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) found that fewer than half of Americans read literature.” Parker also went on to quote another statistic from the NEA that said between the years 1992 and 2002, the number of American adults reading any book dropped seven percent. An even more astounding statistic is literary reading, the reading of novels, short stories, and poems, has dropped 14 percent. A life without books seems drab and inconceivable to me, yet more than half of Americans are living such a life.
Illiteracy, or the inability to read and write, is on the rise in the United States. The type of illiteracy I will address is not the complete inability to read or write but the inability to read or write past the bare fundamentals of the English language. The prospect of having millions of citizens of this great country unable to read or write beyond the bare essentials is terrifying. Who will lead us in the years to come if we are a country of illiterates? Although there are a plethora of reasons for the growing illiteracy rates in this country, I will address what I feel are three contributing factors to the vast majority of the illiteracy we see today. First, I believe the quality of education our children receive in schools is substandard. Sadly I feel parents in general have a laissez-faire approach to parenting, leaving the parenting to the schools and various forms of mindless entertainment from television to X-boxes. I also believe that technology is leading us down a treacherous road to ignorance.
The abilities to read and write are skills taught in our schools. This leads me to believe the quality of education our children receive is in direct correlation to the illiteracy levels in this country. According to The Standard Examiner article entitled “Poll: Schools Not Properly Preparing Kids” written by Nancy Zuckerbrod and Trevor Tompson, “Half of Americans say U.S. schools are doing only a fair to poor job preparing kids for college and the work force.” Zuckerbrod and Tompson’s article goes on to say that while Americans are unhappy with the quality of education provided, they rate education behind the economy and gas prices in importance. Clearly the general population cares more about the cost of driving their kids to school in gas guzzling SUVs than the education their children receive.
Last Friday night I was watching the news program 20/20. They were showcasing the new book titled, SuperFreakonomics, written by Stephen Dubner and Steven Levitt. One of the opinions Dubner and Levitt expressed in their new book is that the feminist movement brought on the deterioration of the education system. While I am not sure I agree the feminist movement is the sole event causing the demise of our schools, I do agree with their train of thought in which the smartest people are no longer becoming teachers. Dubner and Levitt opined the feminist movement opened more employment opportunities to educated women. The smartest women took jobs in other sectors of the employment market leaving the teaching positions to those who might not be as intelligent.
Since the general population does not place education high on the list of priorities and teaching positions are being filled with those of perhaps a lesser intelligence level, it does not surprise me that the quality of education our children receive is substandard. However, in my opinion there is one secret ingredient to this mix. There appears to be an increasing sense among some parents that teachers are there to rear the children. In talking with a family friend, who retired this summer after spending decades as a kindergarten teacher, I learned that over the years she felt an increasing need to spend her time teaching life skills instead of academics. How can educators teach our children to read, write, and do arithmetic if they have to spend their time teaching the life skills that parents should be teaching at home? When I send my daughter to school, I will expect her to learn academics not how to tie her shoes and proper etiquette. Those are life skills I will have taught her at home.
We can not continue to place education low on the totem pole of priorities, hire less than the very best, count on our educators to raise our children, and then expect to be a literate society. Instead we need to designate more funds to educational institutions, hire the very best teachers, and parents need to teach children to tie their shoes. I have expressed my opinions on the failures of the educational system to numerous of my friends and family. They all ask me why I don’t become a teacher. My answer is simple. Our children deserve the very best. They deserve teachers who are intelligent, but also teachers whose hearts are in the profession. Too many of our educators do not have the fire to teach. They may have had the flame at one time, but their flame has blown out. I have never possessed this flame, so it is in the best interest of children that I stay out of the classroom.
While I feel education plays an important role in the illiteracy of America, technology has added to the problem not the solution. In the days before television, one of the methods people entertained themselves was through reading. Books were expensive. Most people owned few books; they were content to reread the same book over and over. My own grandmother has read the book Christy by Christine Marshall at least once a year since she purchased it in the 1970’s.
After the invention of the television, came inventions offering other forms of entertainment to include machines that allowed people to watch movies or play arcade games in the comfort of their home. Over time reading has become a past time that many do not participate in. On 9 December 2007, The Standard Examiner published an editorial titled “Make America Literate Again.” This article states while the NEA does not go so far as to say that television is to blame for the decrease in test scores, it does find, “On average, Americans ages15 to 24 spend almost two hours a day watching TV, and only seven minutes of their daily leisure time on reading.”
Our youth are spending a great deal of their leisure time watching TV, but they are also spending a significant portion of their day on cell phones texting and on the computer instant-messaging friends. All this time spent texting and instant messaging has brought on a type of short-hand language that leaves most English teachers cringing as if their students are scrapping fingernails down the chalkboard. Instead of taking the time to type out, “How are you doing?” Those using text or instant message short-hand will type, “How R U?” When did that become proper use of our English language?
The inability to read and write past the bare essentials is a dilemma this country will soon have to face head on like a knight slaying a fiery dragon. We can not continue down the path we are on and expect to maintain this country’s greatness. Thomas Hargrove wrote an article titled, “Fewer Ph.D.s in the U.S.” In his article Hargrove writes, “The number of Americans earning doctoral degrees has declined in recent years.” Where are we headed as a country if we have fewer citizens with doctorates? Now is the time to turn this situation around. Government needs to spend more money on education so that schools can hire the cream of the crop to educate tomorrow’s leaders. Teachers need to go into the profession of education for the right reasons; they should aspire to light the flames of desire for learning in our youth. Parents need to take an active role in the education and parenting of their children. School is not an extension of childcare; schools are institutions of learning. Lastly while technology is a marvelous thing, like chocolate, it is best served in moderation.
Laws dictate that children have the right to obtain an education. However, once you reach the college level education becomes a privilege not a right. Fresh out of high school I attempted college the first time at Eastern Oregon State College in LaGrande, Oregon. I say attempted because I failed miserably. Freedom from the rules of my parents I dove head first into the social life of college. At the time, I did not yet know how to balance fun with work. After my freshman year my grades were so poor that I could not get any scholarships, therefore, I would have to pay my own way. I could not afford to do this and neither could my family. Thus ended my short college career, or so I thought at the time.
A college education was an entitlement I had earned, right? As a young student, my teachers and mother told me that if I did well in school I could go to college. I worked hard, did well in school, and earned the right to go to college. What I did not understand is that I had earned the privilege not the right to attend college. I had to fall from my entitled pedestal to begin the journey that would teach me the valuable lesson of education being a privilege not a right.
Once I recovered from the shame of dropping out of college I went to work. I worked hard at a couple of different jobs for the next thirteen years. During that time, I married my long-time boyfriend, Phillip, who I had met while in college. He encouraged me over the years to return to school. I had more excuses for not going back to school than all my toes and fingers combined. Then in April of 2006 the best reason for going back to school presented herself early one Easter Sunday, we named her Meghan Adelaide. As I looked into her angelic face for the first time, I realized that I could not encourage her to partake of the privilege of a higher education if I did not have one myself. I also realized in that moment that I was now responsible for the well-being of someone besides myself. My husband is active duty military, in today’s time of wars, there is always the possiblility that we will send him off to war and he would perish. Should that happen, without a college education, I would have a difficult time supporting my daughter let alone myself.
To my husband’s relief I finally realized the importance of a college education, however, to his dismay with the addition of our daughter to our little family we would not be able to afford the education I now desired. Then this summer when Congress passed legislation allowing military members to transfer their GI Bill to dependents prayers were answered. Since my husband has already earned his bachelors and graduate degrees and we have already started a college fund for our daughter, he decided to transfer his GI Bill to me.
I left the halls of my high school with a sense of entitlement; I felt that I had the right to a college education. After failing at college the first time, I worked hard and gained a higher level of maturity. Now new legislation has handed me a college education on a silver platter. Only now, I enter the halls of college with the realization that the silver platter containing my education is a privilege earned on the backs of the sacrifice given by millions of young men and women who serve my country to maintain my freedoms. This silver platter comes from the sacrifices made by my husband. My college education is a fountain running fresh and freely, a fountain that I am privileged to drink.
In his article “Why Fort Hood Really Happened,” Daniel Henninger opines the current administration is so busy degrading the policies set in place by the Bush administration that government agencies have forgotten why those policies came to be in the first place. I agree with Henninger that the Obama administration is too busy pointing fingers at the past and too slow in making decisions. This has caused agencies to be confused on how to put into force the policies set forth by the previous administration. I believe that the general population and government officials have quickly forgotten how they felt on the morning of 11 September 2001, that is why it has become easy to blame the Bush administration for hasty policies.
I find it interesting that Obama, a president known for dragging his heels when it comes to making hard decisions, spoke on the consequences of inaction at Ft. Hood shortly after the massacre. He has spent the last two years pointing his finger at the previous administration and calling attention to the things he deems faulty. Yet he seems to have not done much to fix what he finds faulty. Could it be that policies put in place after the tragedies of 11 September 2001 are not faulty? Perhaps the complacency we have seen in recent years has begun to deteriorate the policies as intended.
We are a society that lives in the moment; we forget the past quickly. I refuse to forget how it felt to wait hours to gain access to the base we were living on that September day in 2001. I cannot forget the agony I have felt every time I kiss my husband good-bye when sending him to fight in the war on terror. Nor can I forget the fear that he may not return from war, the fear that he will become a casualty. However, I believe the general population and our elected officials have forgotten because it is not a part of their everyday life. Forgetting the fear, agony, and anger of the days immediately following the attacks on our country has led to complacency—a sense of contentment and security. This has sparked an immature blame game among our elected officials and a loss of the fervent patriotism we saw in the days immediately after the attacks in 2001.
Since the right hand is oblivious to what the left hand is doing and the brain cannot make up its mind, we have experienced yet another tragedy in our country. U.S. electronic surveillance recorded Major Hasan telephoning “an al Queda-loving imam [sic] in Yemen” (Henninger, par. 1). Yet due to confusion within the current administration and its interpretation of policies, those who listened to these conversations did not know how to respond to them. Complacency led to the tragedy on Ft. Hood.
I feel that we need to hold on to the feelings we felt after being attacked in 2001. Only then can we maintain the sense of urgency needed to prevent further tragedies against American citizens on our own soil. When we forget it leads to a sense of security. This is exactly what the terrorists want. It is easier to strike fear when those you attack have an attitude of contentment. President Bush told us the war on terror would be a long, arduous war. “In war, uncertainty gets you killed. It just did” (Henninger, par. 14).
Works Cited
Henninger, Daniel. “Why Fort Hood Really Happened.” The Wall Street Journal
12 Nov. 2009. Web. 12 Nov. 2009.
On the morning of 11 September 2001, this country suffered a tragic attack delivered by terrorists – cowards. The events of that horrifying day caused a rounding up of terrorists, or those believed to be terrorists, by our government. For now, those terrorists are safely imprisoned at the military detention center GuantanamoBay. In the first days of his administration, President Obama signed an executive order calling for the closure of GuantanamoBay by January 2010. When GuantanamoBay closes, where will these terrorists go? Will they be afforded due process in the federal court systems on the mainland? I vehemently believe that bringing the terrorists here would be unsafe for this country and for the terrorists. I fear the blindfold that Lady Justice has worn for centuries will come crashing to the ground should the terrorists be brought to the mainland for their trials.
In his article “The Right Place to Try Terrorists,” Michael Mukasey writes about the recent trial and judgment of Ali Saleh Kahlah al-Marri. Marri came to this country “to help organize a second wave of attacks after the Sept. 11[sic] atrocities….” (par. 1). In December 2001 he was arrested for the first time for credit card fraud, the charges were then ammeded to include lying to federal agents. In 2003, he was determined to be an unlawful enemy combatant and moved to the naval brig in Charleston, North Carolina. Marri challenged his move to the naval brig, and those legal challenges were about to reach the Supreme Court (Mukasey par. 3). In February, he was transferred “to civilian custody and charged with providing material support for terrorist activities” (Mukasey par. 3). On 29 October 2009, Marri received a sentence for his crimes that could allow for his release in just six short years (Mukasey par. 1).
I believe in our judicial system when it works for all those involved, both the victims and the criminal. I feel that for the terrorists currently imprisoned at GuantanamoBay jurisprudence will not prevail. First, there is not a single courthouse in this country where a safe and fair trial can be conducted. Preventing retaliation from terrorist groups or angry American citizens would be a security nightmare. Then there is the matter of finding an impartial jury. Where are we to find juries of American citizens who would be willing to keep an open mind when it comes to terrorists? I try to keep an open mind, but in this matter, I cannot. If an impartial jury is to be found, then there is the matter of keeping the terrorists safe in our prisons without inflicting the cruel and unusual punishment of permanent solitary confinement. We must also keep the other criminals in these prisons safe from the terrorists. I do not see how any, let alone all, of this can be achieved.
If it is not prudent to bring the terrorists to the mainland for justice, how about sending them back to their native lands? That as well is problematic. There are those who will be shot upon arriving. Sure that will eliminate one more terrorist, but then they become a martyr for their cause. Then there are the countries that will just release them to continue their mission of terror. Not a viable option in my book. Finally, there are those who would suffer prisons so inhumane it would make your stomach crawl. While I feel terrorism is a vile act against humanity, I also feel that we as a country should not contribute to such atrocities that can be found in some foreign prisons.
I feel the only viable option is to maintain the operation of GuantanamoBay. And to try terrorists as we did the war criminals of World War II. I think that we need to unite with other countries as a global nation and deal with terrorists in the manner they behaved – as cowards. From my perspective this is the only safe option for all involved and the only way Lady Justice can keep her blindfold firmly in place.
Works Cited
Mulasey, Michael B. “The Right Place to Try Terrorists.” Editorial. The Washington Post 6 Nov. 2009. Web. 6 Nov. 2009.
