Rebecca Moll's Blog, page 18
March 22, 2018
Thoughts upon reading, Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin by Rebecca Moll
"United We Stand, Divided We Fall." Aesop (6th Century, BC)
This time-tested quote came to mind this morning, upon reaching page 482 in Doris Kearns Goodwin's Team of Rivals and Lincoln's infamous Empancipation Proclamation.
January 1, 1863.
It is interesting that in events leading up to this famous proclamation, Lincoln actually called for a resettlement of the negro in Central America, on the premises of incompatibility of the races. It is also interesting, that with his one, very clear, objective to save the Union at the cost of the slave or the freedom of the slave, whichever preserves the Union, Lincoln's initial plan of setting the stage for favorable reception of his proclamation by resettlement of the negro, a plan designed in division, was not only vehemently opposed by free black citizens and white men sympathetic to the cause, but folly in retrospect.
It is in error that we often learn our greatest lesson.
Upon division, remains but a fraction.
One of Lincoln's biggest fears was the watchful eyes across the pond. Europe stood waiting and watching, still very much an enemy less than a century past the revolution, England still licking it's wounds, ready to pounce, not to mention its demand for cotton and the interruption of commerce. European interference would surely fractal the great Democratic experiment.
Uncle Sam was yet, but a babe.
This singular proclamation of emancipation, in many ways only words to larger cause of slavery, the negro still very much subjected to the horrors of his predicament for many years to come, was a catalyst for unification. Never for the South, yet bound by the South, the negro slave of 1863 was essentially, homeless. The emancipation proclamation gave them a home, a place to stand, uniting them with the North, if only in the sense of the words.
Of course, historians will cite proof and reasons for why this proclamation was designed for anything but the slave and that may be so, but I believe that it is often not the objective that gives a cause it's momentum, but the subjective, catalyzing, energyzing, empowering.
Once in the mix, betwixt, the fever comes quick.
The greatest power of people is in unity.
We are a world power today, because of our unity.
What would our country be today, if we lost the war? I doubt we would have any recognizable North and South, anymore than Europe or the Middle East. Divided, we would have fallen, fallen we would have been conquered, conquered we would have been rendered mere spoils of war, there for the taking. Can you imagine the outcome of WWII, if the Union was lost during the Civil War? If you can't, ask someone from Poland, Hungary, North Korea...It is likely, Communism would not be a description reserved for other countries.
Merit abounds for opposition and argument, that is true, in opinion and action, healthy, justifiable. Unity for the mere sake of unity is empty, false. The pendulum swings far left and far right before settling center. Yet, unity must be always be remembered. Agree to disagree. Revisit, reconsider, reinvent and the possibilities are endless. Rebirth, evolve, and re-establish. This is not history, but independent of time, altruistic: Together we stand.
"What do you stand for?" Or should I say,
"What do WE stand for?"
This time-tested quote came to mind this morning, upon reaching page 482 in Doris Kearns Goodwin's Team of Rivals and Lincoln's infamous Empancipation Proclamation.
January 1, 1863.
It is interesting that in events leading up to this famous proclamation, Lincoln actually called for a resettlement of the negro in Central America, on the premises of incompatibility of the races. It is also interesting, that with his one, very clear, objective to save the Union at the cost of the slave or the freedom of the slave, whichever preserves the Union, Lincoln's initial plan of setting the stage for favorable reception of his proclamation by resettlement of the negro, a plan designed in division, was not only vehemently opposed by free black citizens and white men sympathetic to the cause, but folly in retrospect.
It is in error that we often learn our greatest lesson.
Upon division, remains but a fraction.
One of Lincoln's biggest fears was the watchful eyes across the pond. Europe stood waiting and watching, still very much an enemy less than a century past the revolution, England still licking it's wounds, ready to pounce, not to mention its demand for cotton and the interruption of commerce. European interference would surely fractal the great Democratic experiment.
Uncle Sam was yet, but a babe.
This singular proclamation of emancipation, in many ways only words to larger cause of slavery, the negro still very much subjected to the horrors of his predicament for many years to come, was a catalyst for unification. Never for the South, yet bound by the South, the negro slave of 1863 was essentially, homeless. The emancipation proclamation gave them a home, a place to stand, uniting them with the North, if only in the sense of the words.
Of course, historians will cite proof and reasons for why this proclamation was designed for anything but the slave and that may be so, but I believe that it is often not the objective that gives a cause it's momentum, but the subjective, catalyzing, energyzing, empowering.
Once in the mix, betwixt, the fever comes quick.
The greatest power of people is in unity.
We are a world power today, because of our unity.
What would our country be today, if we lost the war? I doubt we would have any recognizable North and South, anymore than Europe or the Middle East. Divided, we would have fallen, fallen we would have been conquered, conquered we would have been rendered mere spoils of war, there for the taking. Can you imagine the outcome of WWII, if the Union was lost during the Civil War? If you can't, ask someone from Poland, Hungary, North Korea...It is likely, Communism would not be a description reserved for other countries.
Merit abounds for opposition and argument, that is true, in opinion and action, healthy, justifiable. Unity for the mere sake of unity is empty, false. The pendulum swings far left and far right before settling center. Yet, unity must be always be remembered. Agree to disagree. Revisit, reconsider, reinvent and the possibilities are endless. Rebirth, evolve, and re-establish. This is not history, but independent of time, altruistic: Together we stand.
"What do you stand for?" Or should I say,
"What do WE stand for?"
March 20, 2018
The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead, A Book Review by Rebecca Moll
Challenging in so many ways, the changes in place and time, the altered cadence of words and sentences, the discordinace of emotions invoked.
No Sunday folly or vacation throw-away, this novel.
The first of Colson Whitehead's to reach my bookshelves, I will look for more. Yet, I will allow some time to pass before doing so. I'd like to spend a few days with my thoughts of Cora, a month of mourning for Lovey and Royal, a few hundred miles to picture the sheer distances of their escapes and magnitudinal effect of their lives, every color possible to imagine the love and understanding of Valentine's farm.
I knew when I reached Indiana, it would end badly. It was too good to be true. History is proof enough. Progress is so painfully slow, every sweet step forward rewarded with two murderous steps backward and a heap of emotional baggage to shoulder onward. Such burdens to bear, leave permanent impressions. Generations upon generations.
I will shoulder this story, let it impress upon my thoughts, and sink into my soul.
No Sunday folly or vacation throw-away, this novel.
The first of Colson Whitehead's to reach my bookshelves, I will look for more. Yet, I will allow some time to pass before doing so. I'd like to spend a few days with my thoughts of Cora, a month of mourning for Lovey and Royal, a few hundred miles to picture the sheer distances of their escapes and magnitudinal effect of their lives, every color possible to imagine the love and understanding of Valentine's farm.
I knew when I reached Indiana, it would end badly. It was too good to be true. History is proof enough. Progress is so painfully slow, every sweet step forward rewarded with two murderous steps backward and a heap of emotional baggage to shoulder onward. Such burdens to bear, leave permanent impressions. Generations upon generations.
I will shoulder this story, let it impress upon my thoughts, and sink into my soul.
March 19, 2018
Inspiration
Identify most with that which you defend: Color, Gender, Religion, Creed. Cast off all costumes & emerge: Beautiful, Defiant, True. ~Rebecca Moll
My Thoughts While Reading The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead. Rebecca Moll
There is a rumble, tumble, a syncopy to Whitehead's writing - tripping over words, like stones, barefoot in a gushing, mountain river, sentences thrown together, clamoring for footing among disengaged sequences of time and place, a labyrinth, kindred to the very railroad of Whitehead's imagination.
That is, until Indiana.
Indiana, America's mid-west, neither North or South, smooth, flat, fertile, patient. "'Stay. Contribute.' A request. A cure." The story flows freely now, the river becomes a placid lake, the secret journey taken, below, dark, behind, past.
I imagine the end of the story, almost see the light at the end of the tunnel, the Underground Tunnel, covert, genius, defiant, liberating. My childish mind sees the engine, enormous, black and sooty, angry, alive bursting through the surface, the very earth we walk, to unabashed sunshine, to freedom. Oh, the innocence of childhood!
But, I have many pages to go. Perhaps the peaceful surface of the lake belies pressures below. Perhaps, a damn, of man's making, and a minuscule stone that falls away, and then another, and then another...Time to turn the page.
That is, until Indiana.
Indiana, America's mid-west, neither North or South, smooth, flat, fertile, patient. "'Stay. Contribute.' A request. A cure." The story flows freely now, the river becomes a placid lake, the secret journey taken, below, dark, behind, past.
I imagine the end of the story, almost see the light at the end of the tunnel, the Underground Tunnel, covert, genius, defiant, liberating. My childish mind sees the engine, enormous, black and sooty, angry, alive bursting through the surface, the very earth we walk, to unabashed sunshine, to freedom. Oh, the innocence of childhood!
But, I have many pages to go. Perhaps the peaceful surface of the lake belies pressures below. Perhaps, a damn, of man's making, and a minuscule stone that falls away, and then another, and then another...Time to turn the page.
March 12, 2018
The Dead Zone by Stephen King, A Book Review by Rebecca Moll
Reading Stephen King's, The Dead Zone, after the Presidential election of 2017 has an interesting hue. Body guards roughhousing spectators, an unlikely candidate, a surprising swing in popular opinion, defying logic and history, a rogue and unpredictable future.
I won't draw any other metaphors to today's leaders, other than things are always so much more than they appear, regardless if good or bad.
Maybe we all have a "Dead Zone" where we can't or won't see what should be apparent.
I like the struggle of King's protagonists in The Dead Zone, they have a true-to-life feeling, an honest, yet meritable, resignation that in this world, "we do all we can and it has to be good enough...and if it isnt, it has to do. Nothing is ever lost. Nothing that can't be found."
What's in your Dead Zone?
I won't draw any other metaphors to today's leaders, other than things are always so much more than they appear, regardless if good or bad.
Maybe we all have a "Dead Zone" where we can't or won't see what should be apparent.
I like the struggle of King's protagonists in The Dead Zone, they have a true-to-life feeling, an honest, yet meritable, resignation that in this world, "we do all we can and it has to be good enough...and if it isnt, it has to do. Nothing is ever lost. Nothing that can't be found."
What's in your Dead Zone?
March 1, 2018
Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult, A Book Review by Rebecca Moll
Jodi Picoult writes one hell of a story in Small Great Things. No surprise there. A sensational tale, jumping the rope of ethics, morals, and attitudes. No surprise there. A touchy topic, for sure. No surprise there.
But, beware, there are surprises in this book, feelings and emotions you will not expect, regardless of the color of your skin or the ink on your arm.
Growing up in a very diverse and divided community, I have seen my share of racism. I have had white people whisper racial slurs to me like the lack of color in my skin confirms my membership to their club of hate. I know young men, intelligent, handsome, college educated young men, that were feared because of their clothes and their skin, judged criminal because they like long, black, leather jackets, red leather sneakers, thick gold chains, large enveloping hoodies.
I have experienced these and other unthinkable actions of those who consider themselves unbiased from my position of privilege and my heart hurts, because I know this is only the tip of the iceberg. I, also, know that it is my race that built this iceberg, deep and wide, hard and white.
But what I have not experienced, says more. I do not fear for my 19 year old son at night, nor for how he will be treated by authority. I have never looked over my shoulder when shopping to find the shadow of security. My daughters are not feared by other girls their age, when in a group of friends, acting loud and rude, I do not have to work harder and be smarter to measure up.
And why not? Because, I was born without color. I say without color, because white is invisible upon white. I could have easily been born elsewhere, a different country, a different culture, a different family, a person of color. Who would I be?
I do not know.
However, I do believe. I believe in God, the Father, the Almighty, the creator of heaven and earth, of all things seen and unseen. I believe he created us in his image and likeness. I believe we are equal in His eyes. I, also, believe I have been spared this cross, for reasons I will never understand.
There is so much I do not know, will never know, or understand. The racial divide is so much bigger than I.
So, what can I do?
Pray, speak the truth, read, educate myself, help others, follow Christ, in short, small, great things. This, I can do. So, can you.
Thank you, Jodi, for doing just that.
But, beware, there are surprises in this book, feelings and emotions you will not expect, regardless of the color of your skin or the ink on your arm.
Growing up in a very diverse and divided community, I have seen my share of racism. I have had white people whisper racial slurs to me like the lack of color in my skin confirms my membership to their club of hate. I know young men, intelligent, handsome, college educated young men, that were feared because of their clothes and their skin, judged criminal because they like long, black, leather jackets, red leather sneakers, thick gold chains, large enveloping hoodies.
I have experienced these and other unthinkable actions of those who consider themselves unbiased from my position of privilege and my heart hurts, because I know this is only the tip of the iceberg. I, also, know that it is my race that built this iceberg, deep and wide, hard and white.
But what I have not experienced, says more. I do not fear for my 19 year old son at night, nor for how he will be treated by authority. I have never looked over my shoulder when shopping to find the shadow of security. My daughters are not feared by other girls their age, when in a group of friends, acting loud and rude, I do not have to work harder and be smarter to measure up.
And why not? Because, I was born without color. I say without color, because white is invisible upon white. I could have easily been born elsewhere, a different country, a different culture, a different family, a person of color. Who would I be?
I do not know.
However, I do believe. I believe in God, the Father, the Almighty, the creator of heaven and earth, of all things seen and unseen. I believe he created us in his image and likeness. I believe we are equal in His eyes. I, also, believe I have been spared this cross, for reasons I will never understand.
There is so much I do not know, will never know, or understand. The racial divide is so much bigger than I.
So, what can I do?
Pray, speak the truth, read, educate myself, help others, follow Christ, in short, small, great things. This, I can do. So, can you.
Thank you, Jodi, for doing just that.
February 19, 2018
On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King, A Book Review by Rebecca Moll
Who else to give advice, On Writing, than a writing phenom?
Years ago, I stumbled upon a short story collection of King's and was shocked to find two of my favorite movies, Stand by Me and Shawshank Redemption. Thus began my appreciation of King's storytelling. Let me say, I hardly read horror, but I love Stephen King's writing.
So, when my daughter brought home On Writing for her AP English class, I waited patiently until she was done and then snatched it up 🙂
King does not disappoint. His straight forward, practical, and sometimes hard to hear advice, such as "kill your darlings," is just what a writer needs, whether a professional or a just-for-fun writer.
Even better is identifying your own evolution as a writer on the spectrum he illustrates. Where you are now, where you were 6 months ago, 6 years ago, 60 years ago. Writing is a process, A to Z, far from linear, a humbling, frustrating, enlightening, and sometimes, oh, so satisfying process. Seeing yourself in the process helps you to move forward, to make the necessary changes that hold you back.
Want to write? Want to write well? Then study those who do, like Stephen King, author of more than 50 books.
And, most importantly, do like King: Read, Read, Read.
With that, I must agree.
So, get the book. Read the book.
On Writing is dead-on. Of course it is. Expect anything less from the King of Horror?
Years ago, I stumbled upon a short story collection of King's and was shocked to find two of my favorite movies, Stand by Me and Shawshank Redemption. Thus began my appreciation of King's storytelling. Let me say, I hardly read horror, but I love Stephen King's writing.
So, when my daughter brought home On Writing for her AP English class, I waited patiently until she was done and then snatched it up 🙂
King does not disappoint. His straight forward, practical, and sometimes hard to hear advice, such as "kill your darlings," is just what a writer needs, whether a professional or a just-for-fun writer.
Even better is identifying your own evolution as a writer on the spectrum he illustrates. Where you are now, where you were 6 months ago, 6 years ago, 60 years ago. Writing is a process, A to Z, far from linear, a humbling, frustrating, enlightening, and sometimes, oh, so satisfying process. Seeing yourself in the process helps you to move forward, to make the necessary changes that hold you back.
Want to write? Want to write well? Then study those who do, like Stephen King, author of more than 50 books.
And, most importantly, do like King: Read, Read, Read.
With that, I must agree.
So, get the book. Read the book.
On Writing is dead-on. Of course it is. Expect anything less from the King of Horror?
Character Development for Badass Writers by Keith Blenman, A Book Review by Rebecca Moll
Ever try your hand at fiction? Feel like your characters are part of the great flat Stanley family reunion?
Well, then get a copy of Keith Blenmans's Character Development for Badass Writers. Funny and smart, this little book will get your characters off the page, far away from the Stanley-clan, and into real life.
The sweet spot is in the exercises. Answer the questions, do a little daydreaming and then paper to pen, my friend.
After all, writers are pretty badass. Shouldn't your characters be badass, too?
Well, then get a copy of Keith Blenmans's Character Development for Badass Writers. Funny and smart, this little book will get your characters off the page, far away from the Stanley-clan, and into real life.
The sweet spot is in the exercises. Answer the questions, do a little daydreaming and then paper to pen, my friend.
After all, writers are pretty badass. Shouldn't your characters be badass, too?
February 9, 2018
The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom, A Review by Rebecca Moll
Mitch Albom's idea of the after life is full of imagery, vibrant and creative, unique and thought-provoking.
The Five People you Meet in Heaven is a wonderful catharsis for those looking for their loved ones in the chaos and loss that comes with death.
It may even be a life-changing, if you think about your five people, before you die.
As for me, I hope things turn out differently than Albom's life-to-death-to-heaven process. I find comfort in the unknown, the idea that I could never fathom, let alone comprehend, what comes after we take our last breath.
I do look forward to meeting those I've lost, but if Albom's plan proves true, I hope there's a re-write in the header:
"The One Person You Meet in Heaven"....
Who is that you ask? Why, Peter, of course, by-pass purgatory, all the guilt and shame and walk straight through those pearly gates, head straight to the family/friends reunion.
Idk, maybe that's the idea, the so-called meaning of life, reaching enlightenment, getting self-actualized. I prefer the phrase, "finishing the job," or "No Carry-on Baggage."
But, what do I know?
I'll probably have 500 people to meet in heaven....that is, if the escalator goes up.
The Five People you Meet in Heaven is a wonderful catharsis for those looking for their loved ones in the chaos and loss that comes with death.
It may even be a life-changing, if you think about your five people, before you die.
As for me, I hope things turn out differently than Albom's life-to-death-to-heaven process. I find comfort in the unknown, the idea that I could never fathom, let alone comprehend, what comes after we take our last breath.
I do look forward to meeting those I've lost, but if Albom's plan proves true, I hope there's a re-write in the header:
"The One Person You Meet in Heaven"....
Who is that you ask? Why, Peter, of course, by-pass purgatory, all the guilt and shame and walk straight through those pearly gates, head straight to the family/friends reunion.
Idk, maybe that's the idea, the so-called meaning of life, reaching enlightenment, getting self-actualized. I prefer the phrase, "finishing the job," or "No Carry-on Baggage."
But, what do I know?
I'll probably have 500 people to meet in heaven....that is, if the escalator goes up.
January 30, 2018
Solace by Rebecca Moll
When my mind is troubled,
My thoughts will flee,
To a little strip of sand,
Where the land meets the sea.
I’ve walked this beach,
So often, before,
Felt the grit of the sand,
Heard the Ocean’s roar.
There’s something about where the land meets the sea,
That eases my mind tremendously,
A rhythmic collision, two worlds compete,
A symbiotic score,
Just as before, just as before.
Foamy tendrils run towards the shore,
Then pulling, imploring, revealing there’s more,
Only to rise with might, full height,
Then fall with abandon, majestic, right.
There’s something about where the land meets the sea,
In my thoughts, in my heart, it will always be,
No matter where I am or ever shall be,
A refuge, a place, very special to me.
Rebecca Moll
1-31-2018
My thoughts will flee,
To a little strip of sand,
Where the land meets the sea.
I’ve walked this beach,
So often, before,
Felt the grit of the sand,
Heard the Ocean’s roar.
There’s something about where the land meets the sea,
That eases my mind tremendously,
A rhythmic collision, two worlds compete,
A symbiotic score,
Just as before, just as before.
Foamy tendrils run towards the shore,
Then pulling, imploring, revealing there’s more,
Only to rise with might, full height,
Then fall with abandon, majestic, right.
There’s something about where the land meets the sea,
In my thoughts, in my heart, it will always be,
No matter where I am or ever shall be,
A refuge, a place, very special to me.
Rebecca Moll
1-31-2018
