Friday, September 28, 2018

Look Now

Look at that poor white guy
I can feel his ire
He is on the Supreme Court for his lifetime
How dare some woman say his past matters now.

Look at all that ugliness
I can see his tears
Other boys got stinking drunk and laughed, too
How dare someone ask him to remember now.

Look at that old boys’ club
I can hear their lies
They misuse their power and privilege 
How dare some people ask them to be honest now.

Look at the people moving
I can touch their rage
Our path to justice is long and rocky
How dare anyone try to stop us now.


Martha Thompson


I wrote the first version of the poem the evening of Christine Blasey Ford's and Brett Kavanaugh's testimony to the Senate Judiciary Committee, September 27, 2018 and posted it on Facebook. The following day, I posted it on this blog. In the first version, stanza 1, line 3 was "His road to the Supreme Court was assured" and stanza 3, line 3 was "They think they deserve power and privilege." I rewrote those two lines after the Senate confirmed Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court on October 6, 2018 and changed it here.

Monday, September 24, 2018

Challenge the Culture of Silence: Support Survivors and Hold Perpetrators Accountable


As the news unfolds about Christine Blasey Ford’s description of being assaulted by Brett Kavanaugh when she was 15 and he was 17,* I’ve been thinking about a conversation I had with my mother during the 1991 hearings regarding Clarence Thomas’ nomination to the Supreme Court.  I was riveted by Anita Hill testifying against Clarence Thomas and describing his pattern of sexual harassment. I was angry that Hill’s motives and credibility were questioned, additional witnesses prepared to testify were not called, and that Thomas was confirmed by a narrow margin.  

My mother and I rarely talked about national events, but when I mentioned Anita Hill during one of our phone conversations, I discovered that she had also been following the hearings.  Not one to talk much about her early life experiences, to my surprise, my mother revealed that when she was 17 years old, her boss had sexually harassed her. She was shocked by her boss’s behavior and distressed that she could not tell anyone because she would be blamed. As far as I know, my mother had not spoken of her experience until after she heard Anita Hill testify.  What I do know is that her telling of his advances, her anger, and her fears were as fresh as if they had happened that morning and not fifty years earlier. 
Her telling of his advances, her anger, and her fears were as fresh as they if had happened that morning and not fifty years earlier.

Although she didn’t know it at 17, my mom was not the only woman to experience sexual harassment from a boss. The Me Too campaign originated by Tarana Burke in 2006 and revived as #MeToo by Alyssa Milano in 2017 has exposed the massive number of women who have experienced sexual harassment and sexual assault and their often long-lasting effects. As we’ve seen by revelation after revelation, there has been a longstanding pattern of men and boys sexually abusing women and girls; people in power ignoring, minimizing, or excusing their behavior; and, if the abuse is exposed to a larger community, the public demonizing women and girls who are victimized.
I am distressed at the response of members of the Senate Judiciary Committee, other political leaders, and members of the public who are sputtering versions of the despicable refrain of let’s not take sexual violence seriously, the victim is to blame, and what about that poor man/boy who has perpetrated violence.
These statements are especially appalling in the context of 50 year-old Brett Kavanaugh’s 2015 speech at Catholic University’s Columbus School of Law in which he fondly recalled the culture of silence at his high school and how he benefited from it: “Fortunately, we’ve had a good saying that we’ve held firm to to this day, as the dean was reminding me before the talk, which is ‘What happens at Georgetown Prep stays at Georgetown Prep.' That’s been a good thing for all of us, I think.”
Fortunately, we’ve had a good saying that we’ve held firm to to this day, as the dean was reminding me before the talk, which is ‘What happens at Georgetown Prep stays at Georgetown Prep.' That’s been a good thing for all of us, I think.” Brett Kavanaugh 2015
Clarence Thomas was appointed to the Supreme Court for his lifetime while Anita Hill was vilified. And the way Republicans on the Senate Judiciary Committee are talking they intend to repeat that pattern of denigrating a woman who speaks out and dismissing even the possibility of Kavanaugh engaging in unacceptable behavior. This culture of silence was in place 77 years ago when my mother swallowed her anger, fear, and distress because by the age of 17 she already knew she would not be believed. Anita Hill’s testimony against Clarence Thomas did not stop a slim majority of the Senate from accepting his nomination, but for my mother and many other women Hill’s testimony was a public acknowledgment of the existence of predatory sexual behavior by men in positions of authority and Hill’s courage was a public acknowledgment of the resilience and resistance of those targeted. My mother was inspired to tell me her story because Anita Hill told hers. Christine Blasey Ford is telling her story because she says: “Now I feel like my civic responsibility is outweighing my anguish and terror about retaliation.” We must support her!
Now I feel like my civic responsibility is outweighing my anguish and terror about retaliation.” Christine Blasey Ford 2018

We need to try to balance the scales of justice by supporting Christine Blasey Ford and other survivors of sexual assault and holding perpetrators accountable for their behavior. Let’s build a community where our powerful members no longer fondly recall a culture of silence and where the rest of us support each other to speak out and to resist. 



SOME THINGS TO DO RIGHT NOW
·      Share your story of being a bystander, a witness, a supporter, or a target 
For instance, my friend Brett recently posted a Facebook post about his high school days in the 1980s in Montgomery County MD (same time period & same locale as Christine Blasey Ford and Brett Kavanaugh). You can see it here.

·       If someone discloses experiencing or witnessing sexual violence, offer your support
RAINN recommends making it clear: I believe you, it is not your fault, you are not alone, I am sorry this happened to you. #IBelieveHer #IBelieveChristineBlaseyFord #StopKavanaugh

·       Call  Brett Kavanaugh 202-216-7180
Call Kavanaugh’s chambers in the U.S. Court of appeals demanding he withdraw his 
nomination.

·       Contact members of the Senate Judiciary committee (contact information below).
Here are some things you can demand the Committee does: call for an FBI investigation, decline to forward Kavanaugh’s nomination, and/or vote NO if they forward the nomination to the full Senate. Kavanaugh will not protect the interests or rights of people outside his political, economic, and social circles.

·       Contact your Senators
There are numerous ways to get in touch with your Senators. Pick a way that works for you and demand they vote NO on Kavanaugh.
o   Text
Resist Bot service will help you find your senator and send a message. Send the word RESIST to 50409.

o   Call  
The direct line to the Congressional Switchboard is (202) 224-312. You can call at anytime. The operator will connect you to your Senator’s office.

Go to The Action Network to send a letter.

·       Register to vote
Whether or not Kavanaugh takes a seat on the Supreme Court, we need to make our voices heard. If you are not already registered, then register as soon as possible and encourage others to register. Go to “Register to Vote.” In many states you can now register online.

·       Vote and encourage at least 5 others to vote
Thirty-five Senate seats are up for election. Check out the 2018 Senate Election Interactive Map and to find out which seats are most contested. Even if the Senate seats in your state are not being contested, VOTE.

Names and phone numbers of the Senate Judiciary Committee
·       Chuck Grassley (R-IA), Chairman: (202) 224-3744
·       Dianne Feinstein (D-CA), Ranking Member: (202) 224-3841
·       Richard Blumenthal (D-CT): (202) 224-2823
·       Cory Booker (D-NJ): (202) 224-3224
·       Christopher Coons (D-DE): (202) 224-5042
·       John Cornyn (R-TX): (202) 224-2934
·       Mike Crapo (R-ID): (202) 224-6142
·       Ted Cruz (R-TX): (202) 224-5922
·       Dick Durbin (D-IL): (202) 224-2152
·       Jeff Flake (R-AZ): (202) 224-4521
·       Lindsey Graham (R-SC): (202) 224-5972
·       Kamala Harris (D-CA): (202) 224-3553
·       Orrin Hatch (R-UT): (202) 224-5251
·       Mazie Hirono (D-HI): (202) 224-6361
·       Amy Klobuchar (D-MN): (202) 224-3244
·       Patrick Leahy (D-VT): (202) 224-4242
·       Mike Lee (R-UT): (202) 224-5444
·       John Kennedy (R-LA): (202) 224-4623
·       Ben Sasse (R-NE): (202) 224-4224
·       Thom Tillis (R-NC): (202) 224-6342
·       Sheldon Whitehouse (D-RI): (202) 224-2921


*Last night there was breaking news of Deborah Ramirez coming forward with details of another example of sexual misconduct by Brett Kavanaugh. 

Saturday, June 9, 2018

Staying Left When Things Go Right: Lessons from Our Bodies, Ourselves

It’s one thing after another: gag rules, opposition to contraception, defunding Planned Parenthood, increased restrictions on abortion, withdrawing funds for teen pregnancy prevention programs. On top of these attacks on reproductive rights and justice, the Boston Women’s Health Collective recently announced that they are no longer going to publish Our Bodies, Ourselves, a book about women’s health and sexuality that transformed American health culture. Losing Our Bodies, Ourselves in the midst of these attacks is not just any loss, but a loss of what Linda Gordon (2008) called “the left’s most valuable written contribution to the world.” Sure, we can go to many other resources these days for information about women’s health and sexuality but don’t discard those copies of Our Bodies, Ourselves because in addition to a lot of important information about women’s health and sexuality, they also contain lessons for striving for and attaining social justice in the face of relentless efforts to sustain injustice and oppression. 


"Our Bodies Ourselves is the American Left's most valuable written contribution to the world." Linda Gordon

Breaking Silence About Women’s Bodies
I got my first copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves in 1971. It was a new printing of what was originally called Women and Their Bodies published in December 1970 and written by the Boston Women’s Health Collective.  I saw mention of it in one or another of the underground women’s liberation movement pamphlets I was reading in the fall of 1970. I don’t recall the ad for it, but I was drawn to the idea of a feminist approach to women’s health and sexuality. Pre-internet, I wrote a note, pasted on a quarter and a dime, and sent off my request for a copy. Sometime later, a stapled newsprint copy arrived. 
1971 Edition

With silence and shame about women’s bodies as the norm, the photos and candid discussions of sexuality, venereal disease (what we now call STDs-sexually transmitted diseases), birth control, abortion, pregnancy and childbirth along with an analysis of women, medicine and capitalism were subversive, eye-opening, mind-blowing, and liberating. For instance, in 1970, abortion was illegal in 49 states and in 1971, illegal in 44. Illegality didn’t stop women from getting abortions; it just increased the chances that a woman would die from a botched abortion. Though most abortions and deaths from abortion were not recorded, existing records in New York indicate that abortion was the cause of death during pregnancy of one out of four white women and one out of two nonwhite and Puerto Rican women (Gold 2003).  Shocking and outrageous!
Challenging the Status Quo
Can you imagine what it meant in the midst of a climate of silence, secrecy, shame, and desperation about unwanted pregnancy to read in Our Bodies, Ourselves:
·       “Abortion is our right—our right as women to control our own bodies.” (p.61)
·       Women’s personal stories of abortion
·       Reproductive decisions should be voluntary
·       White women might be prevented from choosing abortion and poor women of color might be forced to abort or be sterilized involuntarily

·       Until 100 years prior, abortion was common and not treated as wrong—even by the Catholic Church—and that in many countries abortion was neither a religious or moral issue

·       The details of medical techniques for abortion, doctor-performed illegal abortions, methods of an unskilled abortionist, self-induced methods


·     Evidence-based information about health and sexuality instead of hearing whispered information based on sexist and racist beliefs

That’s what I mean by subversive, eye-opening, mind-blowing, and liberating. What amazes me is that so much of what I learned almost 50 years ago is still radical in 2018. For example, although 21 states in the United States have been proactive about protecting reproductive rights and expanding access, other states continue to enact restrictions since abortion was legalized in 1973, one-third of those restrictions have been enacted in the last 7 years and in 2017, the majority of women in the United States (58%) live in a state that is hostile or extremely hostile to abortion rights (Nash et al, 2018). 
What are strategic lessons from Our Bodies, Ourselves?
The Boston Women’s Health Collective’s approach to creating Our Bodies, Ourselves is an example of moving forward for decades even when powerful forces are at work to maintain inequality and injustice. Their approach represented the best of conscious-raising.[1] A group of women gathered together, told each other their stories, expressed their feelings, and discovered what mattered to them. Their analysis of their stories revealed their collective ignorance about their own bodies and their collective anger and frustration with the state of professional health practices. Their decision to challenge traditional medicine and develop a women’s health course, and eventually a book, grew out of that storytelling and their analysis of those experiences.
       1. Create spaces for people to tell their stories
Our Bodies, Ourselves and the Boston Women’s Health Collective were rooted in storytelling. During a session on “Women and Their Bodies” held at a 1969 women’s liberation conference, participants shared their “doctor” stories; stories where doctors had been patronizing and uninformed about women’s bodies.  Sharing these stories raised participants’ awareness of a bigger picture beyond their individual experience.
     Critical to sustaining social justice movements is creating and nurturing spaces where people can share their stories. While face-to-face gatherings remain important for story-telling, social media have expanded the possibilities of sharing our stories and building support groups without limitations of proximity. For instance, Pantsuit Nation (#pantsuitnation) has a website and Facebook page dedicated to people telling their stories, supporting and encouraging the idea that we need to put human beings at the center of our social policies and social change efforts.  The #MeToo Movement invigorated storytelling about women’s sexual assault experiences, leading to public exposure of famous and not-so-famous men’s patterns of sexual assault and the institutional practices that have allowed these patterns to continue.    
     Decades ago, I was hearing from students in my Women’s Studies classes that they were not participating in evening political meetings or taking jobs involving independent movement because of their fears of sexual assault. These stories were an important part of my motivation to take and then teach women’s self-defense. Creating a nonjudgmental and supportive space for people to tell their stories is integral to the Empowerment Self-Defense Movement as is making sure no one feels pressure to tell their story.
      2. Look for themes and variations
We each can choose where we bring our energy and focus (e.g. environment, global politics, health, housing, immigration, parenting, sexuality, violence, work) but to be politically effective we can’t pick and choose which stories we like and want to hear. Our analysis needs to account for a diversity of experiences and we need grounding principles for that analysis. Our Bodies, Ourselves grew out of women’s stories that when analyzed, revealed larger social structures shaping people’s lives; for instance, a recognition that health care systems were primarily defined by the needs of white, upper middle class men and, therefore, were not serving the needs of women, poor people, and people of color.
To address the extreme imbalance of dominant narratives, we need to analyze the stories of people at what INCITE calls “the dangerous intersections,” prioritizing the stories of women, gender non-conforming, and trans people of color. INCITE is an example of an organization that not only focuses on analyzing the stories of people at the dangerous intersections but also has a set of grounding principles, such as focusing on places where state violence and sexual/intimate partner violence intersect.
In my self-defense work, I’ve seen that attention to the dangerous intersections increases our understanding of ways that different groups are targeted for violence and how self-defense efforts of different groups are framed. For instance, while white women’s use of strikes and kicks in self-defense may be applauded; African-American women may be defined as aggressors. An analysis that accounts for themes and variations underscores that there is no “one-size fits all.”
      3. Formulate actions that address those themes and variations
Political groups can often get stuck at analysis and argument. The Boston Women’s Health Collective didn’t stop at talking and theorizing. Our Bodies, Ourselves was a concrete result of political analysis, providing information that was immediately useful and opened new doors for women and girls. The information in Our Bodies, Ourselves changed the relationships women had with their doctors and other health professionals from passive and dependent to active and informed. Our Bodies, Ourselves provided women with information about health, reproduction, and sexuality that not only transformed their relationships with health care professionals, but also with intimate partners and, most importantly, with their own bodies. Armed with a copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves, women had a foundation for understanding their own bodies, of knowing that what they wanted from their sexual partners was not weird or unusual, and of feeling supported when they walked into a doctor’s office with evidence and information that they otherwise would have not had access to.  
         What does analysis suggest for political action? Based on cases and analyses where women have been arrested and incarcerated for defending themselves, Survived and Punished  has created a toolkit for organizing defense campaigns for survivors of violence who have been criminalized. The toolkit provides a concrete guide from building a defense committee to supporting criminalized survivors to working with lawyers, the media, and the public.
            Empowerment self-defense training grew out of storytelling and analysis, resulting in an understanding that in addition to advocating for change in community and societal norms about violence we also need to provide opportunities for individuals to think critically about violence, experience nonjudgmental support for their experiences and decisions to be safe, and to develop confidence and skills in their abilities to maximize safety and freedom for themselves and others.
4. Repeat
More stories grow out of actions which leads to an expanded analysis, resulting in new actions and more analysis, more actions, and so on. For instance, the Boston Women’s Health Collective did not stop with their own stories but continued to gather personal accounts from more and more women.  New stories broadened their analysis beyond the experiences of educated, white, middle-class women and working with activists around the globe on translations further broadened their analysis. 
1971 and 2011 editions
As Gordon (Nation 2008)  neatly summarized: “Challenging mainstream medicine, made no sense to women who lacked access to medical care.” Putting health care in a global perspective brought new stories to the forefront, broadened the analysis of health and sexuality, and expanded the knowledge and tools offered by Our Bodies, Ourselves.
Over the years I have been involved in teaching self-defense, new stories continue to emerge, resulting in the need to expand our analysis. Our analysis has been pushed beyond sexism to address intersections of gender, race, class, sexuality, and gender identity; beyond individual safety to community safety. Our actions have expanded to include bystander intervention and developing programs for people with disabilities, trans people, children, and men.
Our Bodies, Ourselves is an example of transformation, resulting from listening to people’s stories, developing and honing a political perspective based on those stories, and engaging in actions that address the realities of people’s lives and then continuing and expanding that process. Through such a process, Our Bodies, Ourselves transformed what we know about women’s bodies and had profound and positive effects on health culture in the United States and beyond. Let’s bring that process to our political work.
Martha Thompson
Thank you to Brooke Johnson and Brett Stockdill for their comments on earlier versions of this post.



[1] For more about consciousness-raising, see Kathie Sarachild. March 1973. “Consciousness-Raising: A Radical Weapon.”

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Get Off the Bus: Reflections on Racism and White Privilege

I was nine years old the first time I rode a bus. It was 1955 in Texas. We had traveled by car to Texas from Ohio for my Dad’s work. When he went off with the car for the day, my mom decided we would take the bus to the zoo. As my mom carried my baby sister in her arms and struggled to get money out to pay the bus driver, she told me to take my younger sister and find a place for us to sit. I spied a bench seat at the back of the bus that would hold us all. As soon as my sister and I sat down, my thrill in finding a spot quickly disappeared. The people around us resolutely stared out the window, people in the front turned and glared, and my mom didn’t sit with us! I was mortified but had no idea what I had done.[1] When we got off the bus, I expected my mom to tell me what I had done wrong, but she was silent.
About 10 years ago, my daughter and I went to South Africa with a group of sociologists for a People to People program. One afternoon, an unplanned opportunity arose to visit with a woman who somebody knew. Along with a few of our traveling companions, we went by bus to the outskirts of the city, met the woman, and took a stroll with her through her township, saying hello and, following her lead, chatting here and there with children and adults who were out and about.  Upon my return to the states, I gave a presentation about my experiences in South Africa.  One of my white university colleagues who is a world traveler was horrified at my mention of this informal afternoon. She ended her monologue of fears and dangers with a stern rebuke: “Do not get off the bus.”
These two experiences came to mind as the white supremacist violence in Charlottesville and its aftermath exploded. Getting on and off the bus that day in Texas introduced me to the power of the unspoken, the unquestioned, and the unchallenged and how feelings of shame and ignorance are entangled in learning “one’s place,” even when that place is one of privilege. Getting off the bus in a South African township meant facing the persistence of deep inequalities and suffering in spite of the end of apartheid, hearing the hopes and visions of people as they imagined what was possible, and struggling with understanding my role.
What can I learn from these past experiences? One lesson is to acknowledge that as a white person, I have a privileged seat on the bus where racial segregation and hatred persist despite efforts to eradicate them.
A second lesson is that as a white person with privilege, I have often sat in my seat without noticing or questioning where others are seated. I can choose from moment to moment to speak about, question, and challenge racist violence and hatred around me or I can insulate myself from it.  This choice is white privilege.
A third lesson is that just as riding in an air-conditioned bus was not the way to experience South Africa, staying on the bus-no matter where I sit-is not the way to understand and challenge racism and violence in the United States. I’ve got to get off the bus to understand the deep inequalities that continue to plague our country, to listen to the hopes and visions of people who cannot choose to opt out of racial oppression, and to figure out my role in confronting racism and creating social justice.





[1] It wasn’t until 1956 that the Supreme Court ruled that racial segregation on buses was unconstitutional.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Trump Supporters: Deplorable People or Deplorable Conditions?

For months, I was puzzled about why Donald Trump had any supporters, stunned when he was the Republican nominee for President of the United States, and incredulous that I am still worried that he could be elected. Why would anyone consider voting for Trump for President? Two things happened last week that got me thinking about an answer to that question: my sisters reported that Trump signs are posted throughout the small town we grew up in and I watched the first Presidential debate.
                Anyone who watched the debate and assessed it based on a candidate’s depth of knowledge, experience, and public service knows that Hillary Clinton is the ONLY choice in this election. So why are there people in my hometown supporting Trump?  As tempting as it is to think his supporters are ignorant, evil, or deplorable, I cannot put my hometown folks supporting Trump into these categories.
                I grew up in Sebring, Ohio, which at one time employed over 3000 people in the pottery industry. B.L. Miller, the founder and president of Royal China Company, established a 4-year college scholarship for one boy and one girl in the high school graduating class of 1965. I was the fortunate girl who received that scholarship, enabling me to obtain my B.A. at Kent State University in 1969. At the time I received that scholarship, Royal China was a large thriving business. It reached its peak in the 1970s when it was the third largest dinnerware plant in the United States   After being sold and passed from one investment group to another for over a decade (e.g. Coca Cola, The J Corporation, Nordic Capital), the doors closed in 1986 (Sebring Historical Society). 
                Northeastern Ohio where Sebring is located is one of those regions where Trump has support. Some are predicting that Trump will win Ohio even if he does not win the election (Kondik 2016). Ohio is predominately a white state with expectations that half the Ohio electorate will be white people without a college education and one-third white with a college education (Kondik 2016).  According to 2010 census data, Sebring is 99.25% white and .75% Hispanic or Latino origin.  Sixteen percent of Sebring residents have college degrees and the median income is $35,000. In comparison to the rest of Ohio, the Sebring population is whiter and older and has a lower income, less education, and higher unemployment. Since the 1980s, drug abuse has soared. Earlier this year, Sebring was rocked by the news that the Ohio Environmental Protection Agency had known that Sebring drinking water had high lead levels six weeks before informing Sebring citizens (The Columbus Dispatch 2016). 
                So, Sebring is a town where until the mid-eighties, white people with a high school education or less could earn a decent living and raise their kids with expectations of a safe environment. Today, many people in Sebring are not earning a sufficient living nor can they have expectations of a safe environment. I cannot be angry or incredulous that people want a better situation and that they support a politician who speaks about their plight. What I can be angry or incredulous about is that I have focused on “what is wrong with those people” rather than “what is wrong with their situation.”     
                I encourage all of us to talk to people not voting, voting third party, on the fence, and in the Trump camp about how they believe the results of this election will affect their lives. Before we can persuade anyone to vote for Clinton, we need to listen. I know there will be people who will express white privilege, racism, sexism, and xenophobia (and I don't know if I can bear it) but I believe to address the very deep schisms in this country that have been so rawly and painfully on display and to truly challenge deep-seated ideas about white privilege, racism, sexism, and xenophobia, we need to hear about and address the deplorable conditions that are also creating support for Trump.




Saturday, June 18, 2016

An Unforgettable Homestay in Torre Annunziata Italy

Mara, Franceso, Antonella, Martha, & Jim
In mid-May, my spouse Jim and I headed to Italy for a “homestay” (staying in the home of a local family to immerse oneself in the language and culture). We found a home in Torre Annunziata, a city between Naples and the Amalfi Coast, with our hosts Francesco and Antonella and Francesco’s mother, Mara. We stayed in Francesco and Mara’s home and spent the week improving our language comprehension and speaking. We had daily Italian lessons with Francesco and Antonella; tours to nearby cities and historic sites, and just hung out. Our homestay surpassed our expectations!
Our home
View of Vesuvius 
View of Torre Annunziata & Bay of Naples
We had a charming room with a balcony. From the balcony, we could see Vesuvius to the northeast and the Bay of Naples to the southeast.  Each morning we had a lovely breakfast of cereal, yoghurt, juice, biscotti with marmalade (fig was my favorite), and espresso prepared by Mara. I rarely drink coffee, but I looked forward to Mara’s espresso every morning.

       We usually had lunch and dinner at home, typically a local dish with one of the many Neapolitan breads in the region. Some of the delicious dishes were orecchiette with broccoli and sausage; zucchini frittata; rice salad with tomatoes, tuna, egg, and mozzarella; fruit salad with oranges and fennel; and pasta with tomatoes. Our wonderful meals (except for breakfast) were accompanied by a local wine and followed by limoncello and sometimes gelato venuto.  The conversations around the table, from stories about our lives to political discussions, inspired us to dig deep to communicate our experiences, observations, and thoughts. Mara’s friend Fabrizia visited one night, preparing a special meal of gnocchi with Sorrentino tomatoes and gave us a chance to try to keep up with lickety-split Italian. Jim entertained us all with his song “Chissà” [Who knows]—his observation of the fact that there is no tower (torre) in Torre Annuziata. 

Our Daily LessonsAfter breakfast, Antonella, Francesco, Jim, and I spent the next 2 ½ hours on our daily lesson.  The well-organized lessons were an excellent combination of independent work, one-on-one work with Francesco or Antonella (Jim and I changed partners each day), and group work. In addition to our reading printed materials, Francesco would do a short lecture on a grammar point, we did many practice exercises, we listened to Italian songs, and we watched short videos. The emphasis was always on our active engagement with Italian culture and language. Over the course of the week, we focused on articles, nouns, and verbs and were engaged in increasing our vocabulary, comprehension, and communication skills.
Antonella's Car
Tours
Sorrento
Each afternoon, we headed off for an adventure in Antonella's car. Over the course of the week, we visited the Amalfi coast and the coastal cities of Positano, Salerno, Sorrento; the Oplontis Ruins in Torre Annunziata (right next door to our apartment building),  Naples, and Pompeii. 
Positano

Pompeii
Oplontis Ruins
One lunch, we walked to L’Incrocio—just a block from our home—for traditional fritto and Neapolitan pizza (margarita pizza); another day, we had a picnic lunch of “frittata di pasta” on the steps of Piazza del Plebiscito in Naples, and another time, we lunched at Casa Mia, a “farmer’s kitchen.” At Casa Mia, we ate antipasto with eggplant, zucchini, and potato; little meatballs; pasta; and then sausages and a pork chop. Deliziosi! 

Our thanks to Antonella, Francesco, and Mara
Our last evening in Torre Annuziata we gave our thanks to Antonella, Francesco, and Mara—in Italian, of course:"Che un'esperienza indimenticabile! Il Homestay ha ecceduto le nostre aspettative. Ogni aspetto era eccelente: la nostra camera di letto, il balcone con la vista, i pasti, le escursioni,  i regali, le lezioni, e le conversazioni.
[What an unforgettable experience! The homestay exceeded our expectations.  Each aspect was excellent: our bedroom, the balcony with the view, the meals, the excursions, the gifts, the lessons, and the conversations.]


Who knows? Lyrics by Jim Lucas
On the seventh floor (or the sixth floor),
Near the mountain, near the sea.
Where the breeze comes through the windoor,
And I borrow the P.C.

Chorus
It is Torre Annunziata
But, is there a tower in the city?
Where is the tower of Annuziata
Who knows, who knows?

There are riches and there are ruins,
In this place that is south of Rome,
We are enjoying all our 'doins'
You have made us feel at home.

Chorus

Chissà
Sul il settimo piano (il sesto piano),
in vicino la montagna, in vicino il mare
Dove il venticielo va fra la portestra
E prendo in prestito un P.C.

Coro
C'e Torre Annunziata.
Ma, c'e una torre nella città?
Dov'è la torre dell'Annunziata?
Chissà, chissà?

Ci sono ricchezze e ci sono i scavi
In questo luogo a sud di Roma
Ci divertiamo tutte le nostre attività
Con voi sentiamo a casa

Coro