I’ve done a bunch of stuff where I was in charge so it’s not that that’s freaking me out or causing me pause. I’ll get through it. I’ll have a giant check list. I’ll nag, I mean, remind, and delegate authority and try not to freakout that little things I wanted didn’t happen.

 I mean, shoot, I ran for statewide office once (you can Google; I’m not going to lead you there) , I’ve organized state wide meetings. and my first wedding had 500 people so I GET this.

What I’m marveling at is the connectedness (no really, I’m not being hokey) of it all. 

Listen to Your Mother Show in San Francisco Show 2012 was kind of a fluke. I was in my office working on other stuff, up pops Lela Davidson who says hey, is San Francisco near you? They’re doing this show…oh and the deadline is tomorrow.  I sit there for a moment huddled under a blanket in my office—a hundred plus year old building that shows its drippy age every winter –and think it’s too cold to think about motherhood. She’s read my work when she was an editor on Parenting Squad. She says you should submit something you did there, but funnier. Lela, after all, is the queen of motherhood funniness.

So I looked over a post I’d done on my moms getting married and my daughter’s reaction to it. That was it. I’d rework that and submit it. Submitted. Wait for rejection.

But they didn’t reject it. They took it and thus far that little essay has wracked up nearly 20K hits on youtube. But that’s not why I’m writing this. I’m looking back and seeing the great women (and men) I met in San Francisco. For the thinking woman, mothering can be a lonely place filled with people who like to go to Babies R Us for fun instead of recognizing it to be a nightmare. American Motherhood is lonely and filled with judgment.

You do what you think is best, only to find out you did something shitty. Anyone else stick their kids in front of Baby Mozart? Send them to school with mix matched socks? Encourage them to play with your friends’ kid only to find out that kid is a monster? Ban stuff from the house for no other reason than you hate it? Why can’t we watch Cars 2, mommy– too violent? No, because the script sucks.

So I met these other women and man and we all had something to say about it all. And from them I met others. And before I even knew I’d be directing a show, I’d published more things in more places than just here at Tales of Sierra Madre. I got turned on to new sites and to women doing cool things. And I might live in my little red corner of blue state California and feel isolated and alienated, but I have a whole Internet sisterhood watching my back.

I just submitted a story to a journal I would haven’t thought to send to and it was accepted (yay, thanks Rhea).  That keeps happening. I keep meeting people. I keep having my voice. It keeps getting louder. I can walk around this hamlet mountain town with a whole cacophony of brilliant dissonants in my head. The voice of you, sisters, and the voice of me. 

There is strength in numbers.

On May 15th, I’ll be directing my first Listen to Your Mother show. I enlisted the help of 12 cast members to share their voices. There’s some scary messed up stuff in those stories and some sheer brilliance and some funny realizations and some perfect moments.  Before casting the show, I didn’t know that all these voices right around me existed–and that’s something else for me to be thankful for—-that through the Internet vast and wide, I became closer to the voices around me–the ones literally down the street from me.

Every day someone invariably says something bad about the Internet or phone addictions or some such thing, lamenting the simpler times when we remained distance and unknowing of each others anxieties, existences, and foibles in such an intimate manner. But the Internet and I have grown up together—my motherhood is the Internet–who else was getting up with me at 4 am to feed babies?

So I guess I’m saying thank you. Thank you, mommy bloggers. Thank you, Brain, Child magazine, and Hip Mama, and Girl Body Pride and all the other mama places I’ve found online that brought me back to my own town, my own house, my own room.

And thank you, Ann Imig, and Listen to Your Mother Show for providing this unique connection across a country usually so divided–a motherland for us all. And thank you Ariel Gore for providing the inspiration and ear.

Here’s her story:The Flower that Never Bloomed

and here is mine:

Birth of a Writerchick

Read the whole issue. It’s got some great stories in there.

There are many things to love about her. She’s drop dead gorgeous for one. She has the sexiest voice on the planet for two. Great taste in nearly everything and is true and honest and forthright.

But above all, I love her for her.

I love her for our longevity.

I love her for picking up where ever  

and whenever we leave off.

I love her for her inability

to be judgmental and condemning.

For her sweetness,

her generosity,

her spirit, 

HER.

Happy Birthday, Colette.

A hug across the ether.

Have a blessed day.

Discarding

There. I did it.

The last plant you left me

dry , brittle brown and now

resting on top of the compost heap.

I wasn’t nice about it.

Slow starvation

Slow dehydration

Slow prolonged ending

Standing by the window

uselessly waiting —-

for me to notice the need

the wanting , the water.

Just like you, 

I can’t make anything grow

I can only kill —

and admire the cleanliness

of the window sill 

in the absence.

Upworthy Takes Note!

Nicest FB notification I got all day!

In PLumas County women who are threatened by the men in their lives sometimes call the cops. The cops respond by telling women that they shouldn’t file complaints. You don’t want your husband/ex-husband/boyfriend’s gun taken from them during hunting season do you? It’s a tough thing to be a woman in this county. Way tougher than it has to be.

When gender roles are so blatantly defined and exploited inequalities and sexism will prevail. That’s what we often have here.

It’s an odd thing. If you’re like me, you don’t call the cops because cops don’t tend to listen to racial minorities much–especially in a county where there are very few racial minorities in law enforcement. I’ve instructed my children unfortunately, that cops are not to be trusted any more than criminals unless you are in a diverse area in which case, yes, do go to police for help. But in the mountains? In the country side? You have to fend for yourself.

A few years back a cop came by our old house accusing of us dumping trash in the woods and empty keystone beer cans and diapers in the woods. “Your name’s Garcia, isn’t it?” The cop accused. Yes. I have a Spanish surname. That’s a crime? So he accused microbrew drinking metrosexuals with children way beyond diaper age of leaving trash in the woods. Am I expecting too much in the way of critical thinking skills of police in Plumas County? The cop in question put my husband in a patrol car and took him into the woods to clean up someone else’s garbage and recycling. My kids watched confused. I was terrified. My husband was stoic. We all knew that he’d never have treated a white man the way he did my husband. Later the cop realized his error. But no apology was forthcoming. That officer is still employed despite numerous complaints by numerous minorities. It’s are little bit of KKK up in the mountains.

It’s something I’ve never understood. Why are the beautiful places made uncomfortable for minorities and women? Why can’t the mountains be a safe haven for women identified women and minorities? We deserve clean air too.

Women and minorities need to take back Plumas County. It’s our county too and we deserve to be treated with respect. It’s the 21st century. We aren’t Mississippi. We are in California. Native Americans should be able to drive through the county without fear of being pulled over for BEING NATIVE AMERICAN. Restraining orders should be served on redneck ex-husbands when they threaten their ex-wives. We should demand that instead of relying on racial stereotypes that cops be made to learn critical thinking skills.

What gets to me the most is when I file a complaint against racism or sexism and the officers in charge look at me blankly as if they really know what racism or sexism is and they say “Oh. Officer X is a great guy. He’s not a racist. He’s not a sexist.” As if they KNOW in their privileged skin, in their privileged sex what discrimination is.

I’m calling bullshit on this. Right. Now.

I’m starting a Cop Watch in Plumas County. Someone needs to watch the cops. In just one week I’ve had tons of responses of people wanting to share their stories of discrimination and ill-treatment by our policing force. If you have an incident that happened in Plumas County, let me know. Cop Watch is compiling stories and incidents of bad behavior perpetrated against LAW ABIDING citizens. Send them to us. There is strength in numbers.