About gretchenwing

A high school English and History teacher for 20 years, Gretchen now lives, writes, and bakes on Lopez Island, Washington.

Why My Heart Goes Out to Black Parents: Sandra Bland’s No-Win Tragedy

Posted on July 27, 2015 by gretchenwing

You’re the parent of a Black child in a country whose racist legacy continues to bleed. You tell your kid, “If you’re stopped by a white cop, be respectful. Don’t look for trouble. But don’t you let the man turn back the clock of history on you. Be proud of who you are.”

I’m White, so what do I know? But that’s the message I think I would give my Black son or daughter if I had one. I think that must have been the message Sandra Bland’s folks gave her as she grew up. Maybe she had it in mind as she moved near Houston, Texas to start her new job. And this is the result: dragged out of her car, pushed to the ground and arrested. With bail set at $5,000. The original charge? Failure to signal. After three days in a Waller County jail, Sandra is found hanged.

I have no opinion on the controversy swirling over a murder cover-up, or whether Sandra was suffering from depression. I don’t know enough, and the more I read about this story, the sadder I get. Then I saw the footage of the actual arrest.

The video begins with the end of a different traffic stop–the officer’s giving a warning to some Sophomore at the university. Very cheery. We don’t know the race of that student, but s/he was obviously playing by the officer’s rules.

The very next stop is Sandra. She’s Black. She’s from out of state. She’s annoyed at being stopped. And for whatever reason, Officer Brian Encinia escalates the situation into a power struggle. Watching the result is like watching a train wreck in slow-motion, except that train wrecks are accidental.

Classic tragedy always contains a grain of irony to bitter up the taste a little. Here’s that grain: this video from “Sandy Speaks,” Sandra Bland’s Facebook page, in which she addresses the reason #BlackLivesMatter is a slogan with meaning far more powerful than simply saying All Lives Matter.

I’m not calling Sandra Bland a hero, even if others are. What makes her story so horrifying to me is that she’s just trying to be a normal, strong, Black woman. And apparently in our country, “normal,” “strong” and “Black” are enough to get you violently arrested. What happened to Sandra does NOT happen to normal, strong White people.

“Sandy Speaks” is right. Until we’re ALL ready to stand on a corner holding up a sign that says Black Lives Matter, then, in this country, all lives do NOT matter equally. Consider this my sign.

Red in Tooth and Claw and Paralysis

Posted on July 23, 2015 by gretchenwing

Feel the need for an empathy workout? Think of one of the most horrifying creatures you can imagine–GIANT SPIDER!!! Got that? Good. Now try feeling sorry for it.

Having trouble? Don’t worry. My son the naturalist will help you get there. Read on.

Pura Vida Stories

Nature is not a friendly place. Life is often nasty, brutish, and short, and death is no picnic either. There are some truly sadistic ways animals have dreamed up to dispatch and consume each other. Most fish swallow each other whole, leaving the prey to suffocate in a sack of stomach acid. Spiders immobilize their prey in webs and make them hang there, helpless and dreading, until they decide to liquefy them from the inside. But even spiders deserve some pity for what can befall them.

Hold on to your stomachs, folks. This is about to get national geo-graphic.

Pictured above is a tarantula hawk wasp. The unfortunate critter nearby is a tarantula. The spider has been stung and paralyzed by the wasp, and can’t move much more than a groggy twitch. The wasp is currently excavating a burrow in which she will drag the tarantula, safe from the prying…

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Out of Ashes, Hope: US Muslims Support Black Churches

Posted on July 19, 2015 by gretchenwing

The day after the Charleston Church Massacre, my personal media hero, Jon Stewart of The Daily Show, was unable to tell a joke. He spent the opening of his show expressing his grief, and also his soul-sickness at the inability of the U.S. to “heal this racial wound,” or even to acknowledge its existence. (That’s why he’s my hero.)

It’s Jon Stewart’s job to rub Americans’ noses in painful truths. Since I couldn’t possibly improve on that job, I’ve taken on a different, but related assignment: to highlight small signs of improvement wherever I can find them.

This week’s sign of hope comes courtesy of Al-Jazeera, which published an article last week detailing how a coalition of U.S. Muslim groups has been spending Ramadan fund-raising to rebuild Black churches victimized by arson:

The coalition — which consists of U.S. organizations Muslim Anti-Racism Collaborative and the Arab American Association of New York as well as digital startup Ummah Wide — has so far raised over $23,000 in five days. After the campaign ends on July 18, the money will be given to pastors of the burned churches that need it most, the groups said.

Like black communities in the United States, the coalition wrote, American Muslims are also vulnerable to intimidation, though not to the same extent as African-Americans.

“The American Muslim community cannot claim to have experienced anything close to the systematic and institutionalized racism and racist violence that has been visited upon African-Americans,” organizer Imam Zaid Shakir wrote on the campaign’s website.

However, Muslims can understand the “climate of racially inspired hate and bigotry that is being reignited in this country,” he wrote, saying the American Muslim community should stand in solidarity with African-Americans.

Racism, bigotry and violence are not going away any time soon. Blessings be upon those who stand up to them by reaching out like this. I don’t know any of these people, but I take comfort, for myself and for my country, in their existence.

Weekly Housekeeping Tip: Choose Your Partner Wisely

Posted on July 15, 2015 by gretchenwing

I fell off my bike last weekend and now my kitchen’s a mess.

No, I was not riding in my kitchen–luckily; that would’ve made for an even crunchier fall than the one I took. But to help you see the connection between the two events, here are some Wing facts:

My Mate is primary kitchen-cleaner (as I am primary cook).
His method of cleaning involves descending to his knees to scrub a different section of kitchen floor or cabinet each day (a constant, slo-mo kind of deep cleaning–incredibly effective)
After taking me to the doctor after my bike crash, the Mate had to go off-island (or, as we say here, “to America”) for a couple of days.
Thanks to said crash, I cannot currently bend down. Certainly not to my knees.
I do, however, continue to prepare food for myself and guests. Therefore…
My kitchen’s a mess.

(Courtesy Cathy Thorne, everydaypeoplecartoons.com), via Pinterest

Don’t get me wrong–I’ve always appreciated the Mate’s approach to housekeeping. But now that I can’t even weakly emulate it, I long for it deeply. When he gets back, I think I’ll greet him in a negligee made of damp dishrag.

So this counts as both celebration of marriage/partnership, and housekeeping advice: Find yourself a partner who cleans the way my Mate does, and hang onto him/her for dear life! (Or just add an egg to your floor.)

Nine Mile Pond: #atozchallenge, Day 16

Posted on July 12, 2015 by gretchenwing

With my parents’ 60th anniversary recently celebrated and the usual summer slew of wedding announcements appearing on facebook and in our mailbox, I’ve been thinking about marriage…but really, I just wanted an excuse to reblog this excellent post by my writer friend Shan Jeniah Burton. Two people canoeing through a swamp, a metaphor for marriage? Tell me more! Shan was taking part in something called the “A to Z Challenge” at the time, blogging on a different letter of the alphabet each day. I think ANYONE in a relationship, whether married or not, will enjoy her take on the letter “N.” Take it away, SJ!

Shan Jeniah's Lovely Chaos

Ever have a really bad day? How about one you could easily have prevented, if you’d only known how? One that might have been glorious, if you’d made other choices?

On Day 1, waaay back at A, I wrote about two of my most interesting alligator encounters, including the time my Accomplice and I hit one with a canoe, because we mistook it for a piece of driftwood.

Today, you get to hear about our first time canoeing on Nine Mile Pond, and the lesson learned along the way.

Okay. You’ll need your life vest for this journey. All set? Then set your paddle to the water, stroking in a “J” pattern (there’s the alphabet again!), and finding a rhythm with your companion in the back of the canoe –

Which turns out to be a lot trickier, and maybe even impossible, if you happen to be having…

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Celebrating Strength and Commitment: ESPN’s Body Issue is Back

Posted on July 8, 2015 by gretchenwing

I’ve said it before: I LOVE ESPN Magazine’s Body Issue. It’s everything that Sports Illustrated turned its back on when it decided to devote a monthly issue to Playboy-esque models in teaser swimsuits. Ugh, just thinking about that issue makes me mad. It always makes me mad when people KNOW BETTER.

But ESPN celebrates ATHLETES. And not just model-y, skinny-looking ones like swimmer Natalie Coughlin, basketball player Brittney Griner or last year’s cover woman and World Cup Champion goalie, Hope Solo. This issue celebrates beauty in STRENGTH.

This picture sums up my point, I think:

The hammer thrower is Amanda Bingson. The Photographer is Peter Hapak for ESPN The Magazine, and I’m hoping he won’t sue a humble blogger like me for drawing attention to his work without asking permission. You’re awesome, Mr. Hapak! So are you, Ms. Bingson.

Come to think of it, why don’t I quit while I’m ahead here. In this week when America basks in the glow of its World Cup championship, it’s appropriate to take a moment to sit back in awe of the vehicle and canvas of an athlete’s art: her body. Go to ESPN’s Body Issue and see what I mean.

Happy Independence Day! God Bless America. Now, If You’ll Excuse Me…

Posted on June 30, 2015 by gretchenwing

You know that feeling in the swimming pool when you take a deep breath to fill your lungs enough to swim underwater to the far end of the pool?

Right now, that “pool” = Fourth of July Week. The “swimmers” are me and my cohorts at Holly B’s Bakery (where “Holly’s Buns Are Best”). And that “deep breath”? That’s this blog post. My way of saying Happy Fourth! and I’ll see you in a week.

For those of you new to Wing’s World, here are some pix I posted a year ago showing the ~~mayhem~~ pre-Fourth prep in our tiny bakery world:

On a normal July Saturday we’ll sell 120 croissants. On the Fourth, it’ll be nearly three times that. We’ve been making and freezing croissant dough every day for the past two weeks.

Did I say 15 pans, last year? Make that 21. Who knows what it’ll be this year, now that Lopez Island has made National Geographic’s Top 40 Places list? (#6, yet. Yup. Here they come.)

In order to get all this food out by the time we open @ 7 on July 4 and not instantly sell out, we bakers will be starting at 2 am. Am I going to ride my bike in to work that morning? Yes I am–but from the house of a friend who lives half a mile away. Hey, I’m dedicated, not STUPID.

Because, as on most lovely ocean-y spots, those of us who live here will all be hosting family and friends this weekend. Of course we will! It’s how it ought to be. And I can’t wait to be doing this:

Croissants? Meh. Pass me another s’more!

and this…

My bakery doesn’t make pies. All the more reason for me to make ’em at home!

at home, in between bakery shifts.

I will be one happy, tired, but HAPPY puppy. Finishing Chapter 13 of my next book? Won’t be happening. Selling Books 1 and 2 at the Lopez Farmers Market? Nope–not till later this month. And one more thing I won’t be doing, in the upcoming underwater swim through a pool of love & butter–blogging. I’ll catch y’all next week.

The Flying Burgowski will be back after a short break…

So meantime, happy Independence Day, everyone! Let’s love our families, treat our friends, honor the our freedom…and have another s’more.

I Want to Celebrate the Gay Marriage Opinion Without Rubbing Opponents’ Noses in it; Can I?

Posted on June 26, 2015 by gretchenwing

My first thought on hearing the news that gay marriage is now the law of our land: “Hallelujah!”

My second, third, and fourth thoughts were more along the lines of “Praise be!” “Finally!” “What a joyous day!”

Only much later (these first four thoughts took up most of my morning) did this thought surface: “Take THAT, you small-hearted legislators who want to keep other people from celebrating their honest love the same way you get to!”

This NY Times.com photo’s caption reads, “Pooja Mandagere and Natalie Thompson celebrate the Supreme Court’s decision” (NYTimes.com)

I struggled with Thought #5 most of my bike ride home. The better angels of my nature want to believe that people who oppose gay marriage aren’t really MEAN, they’re just one loved-one away from understanding that gay marriage is about LOVE, the same love that they believe flows from God–or IS God.

The worse angels (are there worse angels?) whisper, “Forget ’em. People like that have made gays second-class citizens for generations, and they’re finally on the losing side of history. Why waste time understanding?”

I got my answer from an unlikely source: President Obama.

Arriving home just past noon, I heard The Mate call, “You’re just in time to hear the end of the President’s speech.” He was watching the funeral for Reverend Clementa Pinckney, the pastor of Charleston’s Mother Emanuel AME Church who was gunned down last week with eight other prayerful souls.

So I watched, and listened. And something the President said resonated with the conversation I’d just been having with my angels–even though it had absolutely nothing to do with gay marriage.

Reverend Pinckney once said, “Across the south, we have a deep appreciation of history. We haven’t always had a deep appreciation of each other’s history.”

He was talking about the racial divide, about the way one barred and starred flag could be so revered and so despised by the people of one region. But I almost felt he–or Rev. Pinckney–was talking to me.

I don’t mean to suggest by this that people who push legislation restricting gay rights need me to look deeply into their eyes and “appreciate” them. I think they are wrong, and the laws they support are wrong. But I DO think I need to force myself not to gloat over the Supreme Court’s decision in Obergefell v. Hodges.

I want to. Oh, I do. I want to dance down the Main Street of every town in every state that’s resisted this decision. But even more than that, just as in Charleston, I want to MOVE FORWARD, not create a backlash. Dylann Roof, the Charleston murderer, embodied the backlash against racial progress. I don’t want to help create the anti-gay version of that pathetic, hate-filled kid.

That means I need to listen, where I can, to voices I disagree with. I can argue–and I will. And I can pray for changes of heart, and hope that history will indeed be the judge of justice on this one. But I will try not to gloat. Gloating’s no way to achieve the amazing grace we are capable of reaching, now and then, even in this divided country.

And speaking of Amazing Grace, feel free to sing along with the Commander in Chief:

asfsaiwue oiu

Celebrating 60 Years of Marriage: You Go, Mom and Dad

Posted on June 22, 2015 by gretchenwing

What do sixty years mean?
Threescore. Memories of 1955. A whole bunch of tree rings.
And in the case of my parents, a milestone on a long and winding road of marriage.

As my sisters and our spouses (or, as The Mate calls them, “spice”) and children gathered last week in San Antonio to celebrate our parents’ 60th anniversary, I mostly relaxed and gave myself over to family re-connection, food, and trying to stay cool. (Did I mention we were in San Antonio? In June? I used to be a Southerner, but after 25 years I’ve lost what little heat tolerance I ever had. Went for a run and thought I might die.)
But now that I’m home (aaaahhhh, nice dry 60s air!) I find myself reflecting on the significance of a 60-year marriage.
My own Mate and I have been hitched for 28, and that seems pretty impressive to us. More than twice that? That seems…at this point, frankly, unfathomable.

I hope we get to fathom it. I hope we get to be grandparents together, if our children so choose. I hope we get to sit around sharing memories of a wedding day so far back the mental pictures themselves have turned sepia.

“Photo by Satsuki “Sunshine” Scoville”

I’m not worried about the hard work of marriage. After 28 years, who wouldn’t know about that? But 32 more…that’s a long time for two people to stay healthy.
So I’ll leave my reflections with a prayer of sorts from the second verse one of my songs, “Rocks of Ages.” Mom & Dad, this is dedicated to you…and to me and my Mate…and to any of you out there hoping to celebrate the same anniversary someday:

Albums in piles, stretching for miles,
Children and homes and careers.
Stacking our cares and blessings in layers,
Years upon years upon years.
Yeah, life’s mighty stratified, but I’m nothing but satisfied;
Let’s go ahead and grow old.
Call us sedimentary, we must’ve been meant to be
‘Cause the age that we’re heading for is looking like gold.

Rocks of ages, counting the stages
We entered into with these golden bands.
After all of our changes, the only thing strange is
How the earth still moves when you take my hand.