girls rule

A Warm Day in December

2009-12-15T16:52:00.000-08:00

Isn’t it always the unexpected that reminds us to be grateful for everything we’ve got?
Yesterday it was unexpectedly warm and I went to the lake to read at its bank. As the sun shone on my back I thought how good it felt and how many other warm days I’d spent in that same spot not particularly grateful for the weather, just used to it in the spring and certain days in the summer. Yesterday, after such a long spell of rainy, cold days, I was grateful for every sun ray that shone on my hands, face and back. Today it was cold again and I remember yesterday with a certain fondness but also look around at the way things are now. I’m grateful to have a job and a roof over my head and to get to spend my lunch breaks reading. I’m grateful for my house and my dogs. It took a warm day in December to remind me to be grateful for everything I’ve got.

Friendship Rules

2009-11-22T13:24:00.000-08:00

Friendship is one of the greatest gifts life has to offer. But sometimes a good friendship can go bad, and you have to know where to draw the line when it comes to being friends with someone. Recently this happened to me, and, although it was hard, I came out all right in the end.

First of all, it’s important to realize that friendship can have a big influencer on your behavior. Your friends, in other words, can affect the way you act. For example, if you are surrounded by people who are doing things like constantly using drugs or drinking alcohol, you are more likely to end up experimenting with these kinds of things. Likewise, if you are usually surrounded by people who are experimenting with things like reading different kinds of literature, going to art shows or museums or watching different types of films, you're more likely to pick up something of that from interacting with your friends and you might do a little experimenting in the arts, sports, volunteering, etc, yourself.

You are subconsciously drawn to different people who either have the same outlook on life as you, who find the same kinds of things funny as you do, and /or people you share interests with or have things in common with. These typically make good friends.

Sometimes you can have things in common with someone and become friends with that person. But, then, rather than finding yourself in a rewarding friendship, something doesn’t feel right and you find yourself asking yourself if maybe it’s time to move on.

Several things are reasons to end a friendship. If a friend is pressuring you all the time to do things you don't want to do and/or things that can be harmful to you and won't stop when you ask them to, that's one reason. Betrayal, constant back-stabbing and doing anything else that hurts the other friend, such as humiliting her, if you do it more than once, is another reason. Repairing a friendship is possible because a friend may not realize that what she is doing is hurting you, or she may be doing it because she is upset with you about something unrelated or related; but, if you discuss her behavior with her and the "friend" keeps displaying the same harmful behaviors, that's definitely reason for ending a friendship.

A good friend is someone who actually cares about you and your well being, who listens and who can (or at least: who tries to) understand -- someone you can count on who is trust-worthy and also someone who has integrity. Without these qualities, it’s hard to really be friends with someone, no mater what else you might have in common. Remember: friendship is great. It’s one of the greatest things there is. But treat it like you would anything else in your life: with care.

Try Something New

2009-08-13T14:19:00.000-07:00

So tonight I’m trying something new…I’m going to my first-ever round of speed-dating. I’m not really meeting many guys in other areas of my life, so I think, why not try something different? Will, the organizer, calls me up and asks me a little about myself. Somehow we get around to talking about the novel I’m working on and he says he’s an agent, and asks am I looking for representation?

I say sure, I’ve got 276 for the most part unedited pages and need some motivation to speed things up. He says he represents writers and is in contact with other people who represent writers so maybe we can find a fit, which makes me a little less apprehensive about going tonight. I mean, at least I know there will be an agent there.

A little later Will calls again and says I can bring a friend for free because someone cancelled and I tell him how I don’t have any single friends right now – they’re all hooked up with somebody. “Well that will probably change tonight,” he says. “The single women who come by themselves usually end up making friends with each other.” Another reason to go.

Next he explains to me that in addition to talking to the other women I’ll have a series of quick “dates” which last exactly eight minutes.

“Sounds great,” I say, and something inside of me lifts a little. It’s not that I have any expectations either way about how tonight will turn out that makes me excited, it’s the fact that I’m going to be trying something new and different. A fun, new step in a different direction today – tomorrow, who knows what might happen?

life and rainbows

2009-07-10T20:07:00.000-07:00

On my way to class on Wednesday I saw a rainbow. It made me think of other times I’d seen rainbows and also of how it had been so long since I’d seen one. I’m taking a Spanish cinema class where we talk in Spanish so the proper word to call it by the time I’d made it from the rainy pathway to the classroom inside was “arco iris.” I told the class I’d seen one. It wasn’t visible from inside.

Everyone got excited but they couldn’t see it even by craning their necks at the windows because a building was blocking the way. By then it had started hailing. So no one went outside to invesitgate. We were talking about the film “Guantanamero” and I mentioned I’d heard the song from it a million times but had never known the context, which was true. I had heard the song a million times. I knew it by heart, but, until that moment, I’d never known what it meant.

And by then, even though it wasn't that big a deal, and even though it was hailing, I wanted to go outside and see the rainbow again, just because everything was reminding me of those little pieces of information that get picked up here and there that start to make things suddenly make sense, whether it’s just a song or maybe a moment or even your whole life. Life can feel strange. But life is like a series of little bits of information that get picked up along the way and make the picture shine through clearer somehow, like the rainbow breaking through the sun-drenched clouds right before my class, rain and hail and all.

Escaping the Heat, and Learning Something

2009-06-26T19:40:00.000-07:00

Batteries for fans are a popular item for people seeking relief from the late June heat, and I happen to be at the CVS cash register buying bottled water when a woman in a pantsuit walks in and addresses the friendly cashier in a voice tired from being outside in the sunshine.

“If I were batteries, where would I be?” she asks, putting her hands on her sweaty back, and the woman behind the cash register, Elsie, leans over the counter and says “Right here,” and points to the battery display not six inches from where the woman in the pantsuit is standing.

I laugh as much at the phrasing of the question as at the answer. Elsie and the woman grin back wholeheartedly, and then the woman continues her shopping.

“You know, it’s so funny to me,” Elsie says. “People come in here all the time lately and ask me where the batteries are, and they’re always standing right in front of them when they ask me.”

The heavy heat was driving even more people than usual into the drugstore that day…in fact, into any store, I knew from personal experience, given the number of places I’d already been that day. There would also be more people at the library.

The first library I went to was closed. The second one was packed – with even more cars than in the drugstore parking lot. People were reading magazines and busy checking out movie titles and using the library computers. Some people, I guessed, were probably there for the air-conditioning and a cool place away from the sticky heat of home. But many people who went to the library not really looking for anything -- besides escape -- often left with something more specific and valuable.

“Oh my god! I’ve been wanting to read this since I was a kid! I forgot!” I heard one teenager exclaim as she yanked a book off the shelf next to the empty table with the sign on it that said “Teen Center, For Teens! And Teens Only!”

Needing to escape the heat of my own house that day -- after typing some things up on my laptop at the one free library table left, by then -- I get into my air-conditioned car and drive over to the shady part of the lake, where I know there will be a breeze and a bench where – with binder in hand -- I think, if it’s not too hot, I can work on some things. I park and walk past the barriers to the restrooms and then make the shady walk back. By the time I get back to the bench my head is already swimming with words and phrases which arrive fully formed even more quickly than I can write them down. Oh my god, I think, this hasn’t happened to me in so long! All right!

Sometimes something has to be sitting right in front of you before you can find it. And the lake, I remembered -- now that it was sitting right in front of me -- never ceases to amaze and inspire me.

Keep on growing!

2009-06-19T07:14:00.000-07:00

When I was ten I tried to grow pumpkins in our tiny backyard in Texas. I had spotted the seed packet at the five and dime one day after school and had begged my mom to get them for me. She finally agreed, then handed me the packet with an illustrated pumpkin patch on the front of it, which I proudly brought home in the front pocket of my red corduroy pocket-dress – my favorite outfit at the time besides my Walt Disney Jeans, which happened to be in the wash basket at the time or otherwise I probably would have been wearing them with my Keds sneakers.

Once home, I found a spade in my dad’s side of the garage, went around back, and started digging. I had read the instructions on the back of the packet very carefully three times, and cleared as much land as I was allowed to clear, which was about two square feet, and I dug up the grass there and made sure everything was done just like it said on the packet‘s directions.

Then, I watered my pumpkin patch faithfully. A lot of vines came up that year, but a pumpkin wasn’t showing up like in the Charlie Brown series.
I tried everything pushing the flower and stalk together to “cross-pollinate” them (that’s what I thought I was doing, anyway) with my hands. Watering them more. Watering them less…the Internet was years away from being invented for reasearching purposes and the books I found at the Dallas library didn’t go into much detail on pumpkins so I was stumped. I really really wanted to grow my pumpkins but I didn’t know how.

Years later I realize I could easily have gotten my mom to take me to the local gardening place and simply asked someone how to do it. I don’t remember the specifics of our backyard anymore, but the vines probably weren’t getting enough sunlight or vice-versa or maybe I’d just picked a place too close to the sidewalk. (All of thes little things can be important factors). Had I discussed my patch with someone who knew a lot about gardening themselves, I probably could have gotten a pumpkin of my own that long-ago season.

When we’re young, and growing up, or older (and still “growing-up) sometimes we go it alone too much and forget that people can be the best resources ever. I wasn’t the world’s most outgoing kid and I think that fact ended up having something to do with the fact that I was never able to grow a pumpkin in my tiny garden that year. But I’ve been through a lot and learned a lot since then. I’ve grown up a lot. I realize now that people are life’s greatest teachers and treasures. Now I ask for advice and help from people all the time.

It helps me keep on growing.

Anticipation Rocks!

2009-06-08T06:37:00.000-07:00

When I was in fourth grade we had this pretty famous (at least: famous-in-our-classroom) object called the “jellybean jar.” The jellybean jar was a huge glass jar filled all the way to the top with an unknown number of jellybeans. The number of jellybeans was not actually a mystery. Our teacher had counted them before filling the jar and she knew Exactly how many jellybeans were in there down to the last bean. But no on in the class knew. So each day, upon arriving at school, each one of us got to take out a piece of folded paper and write down our guess, or “vote,” as to how many jelly beans we thought were in the jar, the anticipation building daily with each wrong guess, because with each wrong guess, we knew we were getting closer to the right one. And the person who eventually got the number right – if any of us ever did – would eventually get to keep the jelly bean jar.

Every day, I was exited to get to school and place my vote. Each day I hoped it might be the day I would become the proud owner of The Jelly Bean Jar. (I didn’t really like jelly beans that much, either way, but that hardly mattered. I would have displayed the jar on the desk in my room with genuine pride).

These days, it occurred to me, on facing the same challenge, a more saavy fourth-grader might just go out and buy a similar jar, fill it up with jelly beans, dump them out, and just count beans one by one to see how many fit into the same-sized jar. But it never occurred to any of us to do that, no similar thought ever entered our heads.

Years later, upon reflection, I’m glad it didn’t because that would have stolen all the magic. All the jelly-bean-count-winner would have won was a jar of jelly beans just like their store-bought one -- immediate gratification and an end to the jelly bean counting contest. With a winner declared, and without the possibilities of the jellybean jar, arriving at school each day would not have been anywhere
near as exciting or interesting.

Here’s a video with Miley Cyrus about the anticipation that builds on the road to always-changing and evolving dreams, or: “the climb.” When I listen to this song, I remember fourth grade and our Jelly Bean Jar.

( Hope you have a great day, whatever your "jelly beans" are. : )

Change Rules!

2009-06-01T07:07:00.000-07:00

Change can be strange but it can also open up all kinds of adventures and opportunities! Just last week I thought one thing was going to happen, something completely different came of the situation, and even though it wasn’t exactly what I expected, it opened my eyes. Suddenly I felt like doing new things. I joined a culture club. I hung some of my grandmothers’ hand-embroidered pictures on my wall to spruce it up. I took a walk in a place I’d never been before and noticed the colors of the leaves, branches, the sailboats and everything around me.

Here are a couple of poems/tips/ideas from my upcoming book “How to Deal with Just about Everything.” I hope they bring you a smile or bring comfort or simply give you a new idea, whatever changes are coming your way.

How to Deal with Changes,
Big and Small

Situations you face every day, like, say:
school or work and friendships -- in the end --
are mostly what you make of them
and how you think about them --
and what you can bring to them.
Every Day.
SO…EVEN when the world around you
seems like it’s constantly changing,
maybe rearranging your days
or your emotions, your own ideas
or feelings…
Remember that you
have got a voice too…
and that you are, by far,
a very important, very unique and very individual person.
AND…as you move toward your own future,
towards what you can create, relate to and imagine
that is yours…
AlWaYs ReMeMbeR these things:
HEART
DETERMINATION
BRAVERY.
REAL FRIENDS
GREAT TIMES
LAUGING!
LiFe LoVe and CrEaTiVitY!
Don’t forget them when the day seems long.
Don’t forget them when you feel
like you’re alone.
Don’t forget them…
no matter how close you are to your own dreams -- and no matter how far.
Don’t forget them when you are smiling wide.
Don’t forget them if you feel down sometimes.
Take them with you along the way…in a bright
and bold here-we-go!! suitcase.
Take them with you wherever you are.
And by the way:
You’ve got an incredible life already.
Go with that!

How to Have Endurance

It’s not always the dreams that
come true right away
that keep us going through all our days –
sometimes it’s the ones that, at first, don’t.
And it’s not only the things we know best
that help us face life’s never-ending tests – because there’s always more to know.
And if you don’t succeed
the first time you try something:
Don’t worry at all about that!
When the time’s right for you
you’ll accomplish everything you want to…
You’ve just got to rely on your heart’s endurance.
Trust it.

and one more thing...:

The flame that encourages us
to go on and live our day-to-day lives
and to laugh and to learn and to create things
is largely lit by the lights of those
who have inspired us to be who we really are
no matter what.

Whatever changes you may face today, always be yourself -- no matter what! : )

Keepgoing !

2009-05-26T15:08:00.000-07:00

Some people say mistakes can be the best teachers...

Adversity can also help contribute to greatness!

I’ll never forget the day I heard that Maya Angelou had had a difficult time being accepted by her writing group in a playwriting /fiction salon when she first started showcasing her own writing for critiquing sessions. I was sitting in a classroom myself, and feeling a bit intimidated by everything around me. Our professor told us that Maya Angelou used to gather in a room of someone she knew’s home with other writers with all different experiences and experience levels and they’d read aloud and then give their opinion on one another’s writing, whether it be playwriting or fiction. Often after Angelou read the room would be silent, and then someone would cough or something. Even though some people didn’t like what she was writing at the time, much of which was never published, that fact did not stop her from participating in the salon, learning , taking some great wisdom from the experience, and especially from keeping up with her own studying and writing. (What a sad loss it would have been to the world had Angelou simply stopped writing before she had really even started).

Some of the greatest women and men in their areas of interest: whether athletes, artists, presidents, began by being discouraged by circumstances or even by others at times….Sometimes because of their own inexperience…or sometimes because of any other host of reasons. But that’s just part of living and learning. Don’t ever let it stop you.

Discipline

Heart

Art

Drive…

Determination.

Bravery

Wisdom

A love of life

The ability to see mistakes as lessons,
and risks as opportunitues.

Imagination

Wings

Courage….you’ve got them in your pocket.
Whatever your dream is today: go for it.

(here's a cool gymnastics video)

Odyssey

2009-05-24T06:30:00.000-07:00

I still remember the first day when I walked into freshman English -- my very first class at my brand new high school. Tucked beneath my arm was a very heavy copy of what then seemed to me to be a very very large book -- in many different ways. It was Homer’s “The Odyssey.” Everything right then was new to me: the other girls, the classrooms, the uniforms the rules and even the buildings. My classes amazed and interested me. Still, I guess I was a bit distracted by life in general, even into the second week of school, on a day when we were supposed to turn in our first two page paper about our reading of the beginning of Homer’s Odyssey. That morning, though I searched my binders and inside my book I realized did not have our first paper for the year -- my first-ever paper as a new student --- with me. By the time the teacher came around to my desk I was terrified. I had to tell her that I would bring my thoughts-on-the-Odyssey in the next day though, in all the excitement of activities, etc. I really dreaded going home and, on top of everything else that was already due, feverishly writing a paper on the Odyssey again when I could hardly even think of what I had said in it.

The thing is, though, we had been talking about how the Odyssey, like many things in life, starts out “en media res,” or: in the middle of things. Sitting in my room at my desk that night, I felt like I had too started in the middle of things, showing up at a school that began in pre-kindergarten. In a personal way, The Odyssey started making some sense to me.

Suffice to say, there are mentors in strange places, even in people who are at the moment complete strangers. (I’m talking about my teacher, who, right then, didn’t really even know the slightest thing about me). But I was very lucky to have her teaching me. When I finally turned in my paper I did not get in trouble for my lateness. Instead, she encouraged me with what I turned in, and suddenly – rather than feeling defeated before I had even begun it seemed to me like a whole world full of possibilities suddenly opened up to me. I became hopeful and determined. At school, I was never once late in turning in a paper again.

At that girls’ school, I was suddenly becoming aware of girl power and girls in literature and society and the possibilities awaiting them. Simultaneously I was reading other big books like the Odyssey. Though I liked the idea of going on a great odyssey, the character of Penelope, Odysseus’ wife, was a letdown to me. While Odysseus sought adventure and dreams, Penelope simply stayed at home constantly waiting for something. Each night, Penelope wove a beautiful tapestry, which was like a visual representation for her own creativity and story it seemed to me. But if Odysseus hadn’t come back yet, she always just un-wove or erased it. It seemed like she was just waiting for life to happen to her. At least, that’s the way I remembered it.

So..what does this have to do with my blog? Well, several years and lifetimes later I was working on my first book called “girls rule…a very special book created especially for girls” and I was also reading a book of poetry by Edna St. Vincent Millay for graduate school when I came across a poem about the Odyssey’s Penelope. Apparently the book had made such an impression on me that twelve years later it was still bothering me.

Why did Penelope not create her own adventures and do things on her own? Why did she remain so inactive just waiting and waiting, for years and years it seemed? If there’s one thing I know it’s that if you inactively wait for your life and for “things” to come around, your “life” and “things” will never “happen.” So, in looking for a character to narrate my book of poems “girls rule” I decided to kinda “reinvent” Penelope. My Penelope though was and is always only herself (not a spinoff of a character). She’s got a middle and last name (when signing things officially, she adds J. Miller). She creates her own path. She is brave and ten years old and spunky. She learns from her own mistakes, doesn’t take life for granted, and inspires other people too, even me sometimes. Kind of like my freshman year English teacher did when she allowed for me to begin “en media res,” and gave me a chance – distractions and
all.

Penelope J. Miller (my Penelope)never discounts the great, odyssey-like inspiring power of her own and other girls’ creativity, drive, and imagination. Because creativity, imagination, and drive – well: as long as you believe in them with all your heart…they can help you, as a girl, as a person, and as a citizen of this world, to do and create just about anything.

Every Day Should Begin with a Poem

2009-04-01T02:21:00.000-07:00

As a kid growing up in Texas, I wasn’t the type to raise my hand in class or offer up her very own thoughts. I didn’t relate much to alphabetizing either, but I absolutely loved the library where the librarian was friendly and knew just about everything. People would sometimes visit and read storybooks or poems to us in the library. When someone read a poem out loud to us, I felt like they were finally speaking my language.

One fall day in our elementary school classroom, with the leaves turning and changing outside the windows, the teacher suddenly asked us to write a poem. My poem was not “good” in a traditional sense –and I pretty much knew that – but it gave me a chance, for once, to voice my own opinion with no anxiety in speaking openly. “Jelly beans are round and they sit in a jar and that’s what jelly beans are,” I said, with no fear. I did not care what anyone thought of my poem. It was exactly as I wanted it.

For me, that was one small veiled brave act of rebellion or progress, depending on how you looked at it. Memories fade as you grow up and grow older but that small moment was so important to me personally that, no matter whatever I go through in life, I will never forget it.

Poetry can make you laugh. It can make you cry. It can inspire you, and -- every once in a while: it can even change your life. Poetry is a place that you create, it's where you can go to design your own hope with whatever you’ve got inside of your very own imagination. Poetry connects. Poetry changes. Poetry says “Let me show you something.”

Here's a short clip for the upcoming film Where the Wild Things Are -- based on the children’s book by the same name by Maurice Sendak – and one of my all-time favorite books as a kid. By coincidence, I happened to run into one of the book's characters last Saturday at a literary event and was completely stunned. Even though it was just someone dressed up as a character from the book (an illustration), I wanted to tell him what an impact he'd had on my life as a kid. The book was so important to me then. (And even now, sometimes). Because it showed me the power of very pure or true hope through words and imagination.

So what does this video have to do with National Poetry Month, exactly? Watching this video, to me, feels like experiencing the always-new swooosh and thrill of riding a roller coaster (even though you know the feeling, it never fails to take your breath away). Watching this video -- in other words -- feels like poetry feels to me.

Some things you can for National Poetry Month

30 poems in 30 Days
Starting write now, the website NaPoWriMo is going to give a random poetry prompt every day during April. Just visit the site, view the daily prompt (like “sequin” or “maverick” or “squall”) and write your own poem in response to it!
http://readwritepoem.org/

There’s also a random poetry quote, like...

I go to the things I love
With no thought of duty or pity.
--Hilda Dolittle

Poetry exists as a body attempting communication.
--Sam Hamill

Everyday should begin with a poem.
--Michelle McGrane

A Poem in Your Pocket:

On NapoWriMo you can also find details to celebrate Poem In Your Pocket Day which takes place on April 30, 2009. The basic idea is to pick a poem you really love and carry it with you all day long so you can share it with co-workers, friends, etc.

Poetry can create a moment where everything makes sense. It creates freedom -- no matter who or where you are or what you are doing. April 1st begins National Poetry Month: thirty days to celebrate all that poetry can be and what you can be through poetry.

Pass it on

International Women's Day

2009-03-06T11:12:00.000-08:00

When I was 15 years old and sitting in my American history classroom in Texas, I heard a horrible story I would never forget. It was a true story about the working conditions of “factory girls” (or girls who worked in factories) as they were then called. These were mostly teenage girls who spent almost every waking minute of their lives bent over a machine, with almost no breaks -- even to talk or walk or to use the restroom -- each girl’s job to do a repetitive task, over and over again. Ceaselessly. That wasn’t the part I was talking about though. That was just how things were, to begin with.
But one day, in that story, something very much worse happened at one of those factories.
Late in the afternoon of March 25, 1911, something unforgettable and unforgiveable occured. It began in the shirtwaist (or women’s-blouse-making) factory. It became a terrible, long moment when many of the factory girls who worked there's only choice was between being engulfed by flames or leaping off the factory's window ledges to their own certain death. But the most horrifying thing about the event is that it never should have happened in the first place. It was a preventable story of help and understanding arriving far too late.
Most of the girls who worked at the factory knew what was going on: they knew working conditions around them were potentially dangerous, that certain exits and doors were locked for reasons they could not understand. But they were not able to communicate these facts to anyone. If they did, they would most likely be fired on the spot. And the girls desperately needed to hold onto their jobs simply to survive in the first place.
The complication that led directly to the deaths of so many working girls that day was linked to a piece of information known by almost everyone associated with the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory -- meaning both the girls and the people who were in charge of paying them. It was simply that certain doors and exits were locked, or inaccessible, which meant -- in the event that something unexpected occurred -- it would make it virtually impossible for them to escape from the building or quickly vacate.
On the day of the event, which was remembered as being a gray and gloomy day for the city, a fire broke out on floor 8 of the shirtwaist factory, most likely caused by a lit match or possibly by faulty electrical wiring combined with running machinery. Once it sparked, the flames jumped instantly throughout floor 8 and then to the other floors, leaping from flammable textiles to fabric scraps to garments to paper patterns hung above the sewing machines. Within minutes the hot hot flames had spread all over the place.
Some people tried to use the elevator to get out, but there was only one, and it quit working from too many people leaping into the elevator shaft. Meanwhile, students and members of New York University Law School, who were in an adjacent building twelve feet away, noticed through the windows of their school that some of the girls were standing on the nearby rooftop as the factory itself was being engulfed in flames. They quickly lowered a ladder to these girls so they could climb to safety. 150 factory girls survived that way that day. Meanwhile, a man walking by noticed something going terribly wrong at the factory too and tried to alert a policeman who was standing nearby and the policeman for some unknown reason, did nothing. But soon girls had already started jumping from the factory windows. They landed on the cement below in a heap. Some of them tossed their purses or hats before jumping. Their bodies quickly piled up on the sidewalk, lifeless. Many of the girls who chose to stay inside ended up being burned alive. 146 factory girls lost their own lives that day.
As the tragic event of the girls’ extreme leap to death was witnessed by so many passersby and observers, many of who fainted simply from witnessing it, eventually a trial was held to investigate the working conditions of the factory in relation to the culpability of the two men who both owned and ran it. During this trial some of the girls who had survived finally spoke of how they knew some doors on the ninth floor were locked, or otherwise inaccessible, but they could not speak about it until that day.
The trial initially did not end up holding the owners responsible for anything, as many of the girls’ testimonies, for no real reason, were discredited. Eventually, though, in time, the owners had to pay a fine of $20 for their “mistake” and $75 per body, even though their insurance covered that and much more.
Up until the tragic events of September 11, the Triangle Shirt Waist Factory fire was the worst major workplace tragic event ever in New York City.
The factory girls' own lives could not be saved. But because of the incident, and largely due to women’s protests that followed it, and the creation of womens’ groups addressing the issues involved in it, America eventually began to sit up and notice, and things such as rights for factory or working girls, inspection of the workplace, and issues regarding equality finally began to change.
Women in many countries began to organize things together, as a new tradition on March 8, March being the first month of Spring in many countries,a time for growth, celebration and change. In 1977 The United Nations made a resolution proclaiming March 8 as an official day for womens rights and international peace and today it is officially called International Womens Day. Since March 8, 1975, the day has been marked with a message from the Secretary General, enforcing the fact that, in order to attain international peace, women’s participation and the equality of all people, is greatly needed in order to work together as a society and societies.
Today there are still poor working conditions or lack of complete social or workplace equality in many places, and IWD reminds people -- along with its more celebratory aspect -- to recognize this important reality and to instill in people the hope of changing it. IWD is vital to our own awareness and constant vigilance. Not only does IWD honor the rights that women throughout history have gained, but it reinforces the idea that we should never take these rights for granted. It is a day for women to unite with a common goal of always being able to provide ourselves with meaningful futures. It's also an occasion for celebrating the progress we’ ve made and will continue to make. Mostly, though, it is about equality and about the hope for continuing positive social change.
Today this includes the right of Girls of all ages everywhere to pursue their goals without discrimination or limits on their dreams.
What this means to me is the vitalness of equality for all people…and the ability to exist within society with the right to my own voice. On March 8, one of the things I am going to do is to draw a flower in my notebook. Though it might seem like a simple thing to do, it is a powerful symbol to me. It signifies IWD and the idea of a new Spring in my country. In certain countries, IWD is celebrated by the act of men giving flowers to the women they know. I will draw a flower in my notebook for similar reasons: so that, no matter what is happening or happens in the future, I will remember: never to forget. Anything.

The World Writes Emily Dickinson Back

2009-02-22T20:44:00.000-08:00

Recently I was asked the following question: if there was one quote I could put on a T-shirt -- and I would have to wear that T-shirt for the rest of my life...what would my quote be?

Immediately I thought of a place I'd been to a few years before which had a lasting effect on me. First you have to understand something: ever since I was a kid growing up in Texas, I'd loved, loved reading Emily Dickinson's very excellent poetry.

So when I finally got the chance to go, I was on a very serious mission: to visit Emily Dickinson. I had always wanted to go to the place she'd lived so I could see for myself this house, where the Emily I knew of from these poems I so loved, had actually lived and written most of her poetry.

What would it look like? Where would a poet like Emily write? Even though circumstances around the homestead had changed radically throughout the years, when she was inside this house (which had been preserved and made to appear as it did at the time when Emily lived there) what would she have seen?

When I arrived I was greeted by the tour guides along with everyone else; I then walked with a group of people through the rooms of the house where Emily had lived with her father and some other members of her immediate family up until the end of her life.

I looked for answers in the white dresses she had worn so often, which were hanging, untouchable, inside a large glass box. I read the newspaper framed on a single wall which contained one of the only poems published during her own lifetime, as most of her poetry she kept hidden on scraps in drawers. (Emily's poetry was later found in these drawers and published posthumously).

After being in her room: the place where she wrote her poems on a very simple wooden desk: on scraps of paper, on the backs of recipes and envelopes -- in handwriting which was sometimes written so quickly in a burst of brilliant thought or inspiration, that, later, when her poetry was discovered in these drawers, it was sometimes hard at first for others to read...I walked the same floorboards that Emily had once walked on, during a time in her life when she was writing poems which sometimes mentioned things like the sea: which she had never actually seen...yet poems that would forever be read, reread and remembered by the world, and also held dearly in the hearts of visitors like me.

As a visitor to the Dickinson's house, but living in today's world as it is now, I do not have to wear white dresses to "work" or: write. I usually wear a T-shirt and Jeans. For Emily, of course, wearing a T-shirt would not have been an option. In this multi-media, digital age, when -- not only can you design your own T-shirts from internet sites -- but you can just as easily quickly google and then immediately see endless images of the sea right on your live computer screen, I sometimes wonder what Emily Dickinson would have thought if she could instantly see the seas. I wonder how this age we live in might have affected her writing and her daily life. I try to imagine her using a cell phone instead of writing long, handwritten letters to friends who lived far away. I wonder how she would react if she were here now, and how she would interpret all the images she would see.

Today there are many video renditions of Emily's poetry on sites like Youtube...videos which constantly inspire me, and others like me, just like her books did and still do. And I halfway wish she were magically here somehow
for a moment or two, so the poet, Emily Dickinson, who once wrote "This is my letter to the World that never wrote to me" could see this response from the World. I also wonder sometimes what Emily might have thought about that.

As I left the Dickinson homestead, I entered a small gift shop, where, along with a couple of books, I purchased a T-shirt which is very important to me. The words from Emily Dickinson's beloved poem "hope is the thing with feathers" are written on it in a very appropriate font in a shade of hopeful bright blue. This is my favorite T-shirt, a relic, because of the words and what they mean. And it is the one -- the only T-shirt I would wear -- to answer the question which was posed to me.

The rest of the poem -- in a multimedia form -- you can see yourself by watching this video:

Emily also said "To fight aloud...is very brave." And when I think of Emily and the way that society has changed since her lifetime, my very best guess is that if Emily Dickinson were here today, she would encourage Girls everywhere to make their own way...to always remain brave, honorable, hopeful and true...to the poetry and creativity that runs through you -- every day.

I’m a Fan of the 19th Amendment

2009-02-04T16:26:00.000-08:00

We hold these truths to be self-evident,
That all men are created equal,
That they are endowed…with certain
Unalienable Rights, that among
These are Life, Liberty and the pursuit
Of happiness.

These powerful words from the Declaration of Independence were poetic and important but by no means did they ensure equal rights for all people living in America.
Even in 1791, when the Bill of Rights (which included amendments 1-10) was added onto the Constitution, it did not extend true freedom or rights to women or to people of color, either.
In 1848, two strong women: Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott, made the deliberate choice to fight for freedom for themselves and for the rights of all American women. Both were activists in the movement to abolish slavery. But Mott had been refused permission to speak at the world anti-slavery Convention – even though she was an official delegate.
So these women decided to do something about it. At The Seneca Falls Convention (the 1st conference to address women’s rights and issues), looking back at America’s original ideas for freedom -- they used the language of the Declaration of Independence to create the following Declaration of Sentiments:

We hold these rights to be self-evident:
That all men and women are created equal.
The history of mankind is a history
Of repeated injuries and usurpations
On the part of man toward woman,
Having in direct object the establishment
Of an absolute tyranny over her. To prove this,
Let facts be submitted to a candid world.
He has never permitted her inalienable right
To the elective franchise.
He has compelled her to submit to laws
In the formation of which she had no voice…
He has taken from her all Rights in property,
Even to the wages she earns.

Due to the impact their voices had on America, along with the work and support of many more women and other people: on August 18, 1920 the 19th amendment was ratified and added to the Constitution of the United States of America, finally giving women the right to vote.

When I look at this video of Obama signing the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act (posted below), ensuring equal pay with no discrimination due to gender or race -- I think of just how far we’ve come since America’s b-day.

Girls Bill of Rights (Girls Inc.):

Girls have the right….
To be themselves and to resist gender stereoypes.
Girls have the right…
To express themselves with originality and enthusiasm.
Girls have the right…
To take risks, strive freely, and to take pride in their success.
Girls have the right…
To accept and appreciate their bodies.
Girls have the right…
To have confidence in themselves and to be safe in the world.
Girls have the right…
To prepare for interesting work and economic independence.

Historical Moment 4 American History: Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act

Make It Happen

2009-01-29T09:37:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my car was a frozen over sheet of ice and I had to slip and slide my way to the store to get something to eat for breakfast. As I walked the slippery sidewalks, in the aftermath of a Texas ice storm, I noticed more of the world and its bright details around me: orange leaves on the ground with their sharp icy tips, the very visible, smoke-like, exhaled breaths of young women – who were once even younger girls -- waiting at bus stops for a ride to work or to wherever each of them happened to be going.

These days it seems like we are actually standing at the cusp of just about everything. There are real truths in every single story in the streets where we walk and talk…in each and every adventure…and in every opportunity that starts (very OriGiNalLy) at the very beginning (simply and AmAziNgLy) as one girl’s own dreamed up dream.

We’ve got places to go and people to be.
We’ve got some things to say.

Like the winter trees’ fallen down or blown-away leaves, everyone we know has lost something. (but not HeArt). And during these changing of days -- while many are trying to hold on to what they’ve got, there’s something to be said for just branching out, throwing things out there, forgetting perfectionism and trying out just about anything. There’s a lot to be learned and gained from our own and from other people’s mistakes. And maybe, just may-be: there’s great art waiting to be created out of where we came from and where we are going -- at the next bus stop, or just around the next corner.

Our lives are a work, like-a-book-or-film (many books many films) yet to be completed. We are constantly in `progress.’
Today we are shaking things up. Today, we are work-ing.

So..when your bus arrives, will you just step aside, or will you stand up for something?
Will you accept everything that comes your way, or will you choose to make a difference?
When your turn comes, will you be silent…or will you find your voice,
and let it ring out??
Here it is:____________________ ! : )
There are chances everywhere. : D
So...when you see the future in front of you…
Will you walk…
or run?

It’s your turn to shine, significantly.
Shine on.
May you always dance, find life’s tiny miracles
and stand tall in the very bright-lit sunshine
of your very own.
Whatever you dream can actually be. If you just do it…
Make it happen.

Girls (Always) Aloud...

2009-01-27T22:24:00.000-08:00

The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle.
-- Anais Nin

Dear You,

Today is the first day of the rest of your life. It’s a time to dream and a time to hope. It’s a time to act on your own very best intentions. It’s a time to try. Any thing in the world you choose to do takes some thinking and believing and often a bit of time.
But if you think with your heart and your mind about everything you aspire to achieve in your own life – no matter how long it takes you to get “there” – the fire will never ever burn out.

The best is, always, yet to come.

Dear You: always believe in yourself and your own dreams.

Best wishes (always), Ashley

Answer these questions!

What personal legacy do you wish to leave behind?

What “story” do you most need to be told?

What does your life, your own work or today mean just to you?

What would you do if you had nothing to lose?

Top four moments in my life that mean the most to me:

What would you like to see happen “tomorrow”??

What is your biggest dream?

Go for it.

The Kindness Reminder

2009-01-27T12:29:00.000-08:00

Earlier this month, Elizabeth Alexander, an awesome poet sometimes called “the inaugural poet for a new generation of twenty-first century voices,” read her following poem, “Praise Song for the Day,” for Obama and for everyone:

Praise Song for the Day

by Elizabeth Alexander

Each day we go about our business, walking past each other,
catching each other’s eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn
and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues.
Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform,
patching a tire,  repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere,  with a pair of
wooden spoons on an oil drum,  with cello, boom box,
harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.  A farmer considers the
changing sky . A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words, words  spiny or smooth,
whispered or declaimed,  words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark  the will of some one
and then others, who said I need to see what’s on the other side.

I know there’s something better down the road. We need to find
a place where we are safe.  We walk into that which we cannot yet
see.

Say it plain: that many have died for this day.  Sing the names of
the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised
the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce, built  brick by brick the
glittering edifices  they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day. Praise song for
every hand-lettered sign,  the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,  others by first do no
harm or take no more  than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,  love that casts a widening
pool of light,  love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air,  any thing can be made,
any sentence begun. On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.

…While browsing through the internet the other day, I came across something else. It’s called the “String-Ring,*” The Kindness Reminder (*tm). The String-Ring is a very special kind of ring which reminds yourself and those who notice it to be kind to each other. Each colored string represents a kind of kindness, from love to empathy, optimism and introspection and enthusiasm to giving. I think this ring might just have something to do with what Elizabeth Alexander was talking about in her awesome Inaugural Poem. It's something you can wear to remind yourself (and pass on to others who see it) ideas like “love thy neighbor as thyself” – and to remember to remain empathetic, to help each other out through hard times, to be brave and bright and bold as girls of a new and continuing generation…as we “walk…forward in that light” -- to find and express our own voices as girls and as people of this world, with our very own “songs”: aloud.

Here’s a link to The String Ring! -- created by Tina&Jeff

www.string-ring.com/

Pass It On.

Dear World (Girls Incorporated)

2009-01-23T01:11:00.000-08:00

Last summer I happened to teach a girl power art class at the Girls Inc. near where I live. Girls Inc. is a national organization that helps girls believe in their dreams: to be bright, bold and strong and not to be afraid to let their own voices be heard and put into action. It was one of the greatest places in the world!
Recently, Youtube started an event called "Project 4 Awesome" in which people shared their own voices and own stories via youtube for a cause of their choice. In the post below is an awesome video in support of Girls Inc. Check it out! It is pretty incredible.

P.S. If you are interested in participating in "Dear World, It's me, a girl" and in viewing the inspiring "Dear World" Girls Inc PSA, follow this link:

www.girlsinc.org/dearworld/index.php

(The "Dear World" PSA is pretty incredible too.)

2009-01-23T01:07:00.000-08:00

2009-01-21T21:39:00.000-08:00

Welcome to girls rule!

2009-01-21T20:12:00.000-08:00

Hi to readers familiar and new : ). My name is Ashley Rice and I'm the author and illustrator of girls rule & many similar books and products created especially for girls like you. My new, updated and interactive website will be up and running soon at the same old address: www.ashleyrice.com. Lately I've been busy creating new and exciting stuff which will be available for viewing on the new site soon! Penelope, the original narrator of girls rule, will narrate the website and is looking forward to saying hi and meeting more amazing readers too.

In the mean time, we hope you have a great day in every way and may all your dreams come true!

-- Penelope (and Ashley)