Making Headway

January again, and we've come full circle -- we spent the weekend marching for MLK and combing for nits. But what a difference a year makes! On the lice front, someone -- a genius! -- has invented an electric lice comb, which zaps the bugs as you pull it through the hair. Even though we're still spending a fair amount of time each day wielding the regular nit comb (and the tweezers and the flashlight, and don't get us started on the laundry), somehow the occasional use of the zapper -- or even just its presence on the kitchen counter -- adds a certain élan to the proceedings.

We've found that our annual Martin Luther King Day rituals have also taken on a whole new aura of joy and excitement. When we went down to the basement this morning to dig out our protest signs, we found that the grim, bitter messages we've been carrying aloft for the last eight years just didn't feel right this time. Our two standby MLK quotes -- "WAR IS A POOR TOOL TO CHISEL OUT TOMORROWS" and "THE GREATEST PURVEYOR OF VIOLENCE ON EARTH IS MY OWN GOVERNMENT" -- are no doubt just as true as they were last year. But we were ready for a change.



We decided we could still use the banner we made last year, only this time instead of conjuring up images of desperate people clinging to each other in a lifeboat on a storm-tossed sea, it had a decidedly celebratory -- even congratulatory -- feel. We did it, guys!


The only trouble that marred this otherwise perfect day was when the Mead Street parents looked around and realized that one of the five children was nowhere to be seen. In a crowded march, of course, you lose sight of people all the time, but they generally turn up again pretty promptly. Not so Menna. Fortunately, before we reached the panic stage (but well after three adults had fanned out into the crowd actively searching while the fourth posted up on the corner as conspicuously as possible), Miss Menna appeared. She had sensibly stepped to the side of the march once she realized she was lost, and been spotted by helpful acquaintances who notified the police and then accompanied her along the march route until... she spotted us. I haven't had a little girl fling herself at me quite so emphatically in a long while.

Orca's MLK March on Friday was similarly exuberant -- and nobody got lost! Led by a fearless principal brandishing a borrowed Earth flag, hundreds of children flooded the streets of Columbia City and filled Columbia Park with "We Shall Overcome," among other cheering sentiments.

We didn't realize our camera's video setting was stuck in mute uberspeed until it was too late, but we kind of like the results:

For those of you who like to linger over your visuals, here are a few stills:





Marvelous as all of this hoopla was, our favorite MLK moment of all may have been Simon's class performing a lovely song called "Connected" at the assembly on Friday. (Apologies for the awkward camera angle.)

So there it is. Despite the bugs in our hair, the economy in freefall, the school district in a tailspin, the war in Gaza flaring up while the one in Iraq drags on, the impossible expectations looming over our soon-to-be-president, and they myriad personal and global disasters that surround us -- when we think about where things stood a year ago we have to say we're feeling surprisingly optimistic. And when we listen to these kids sing, or read their magic-markered messages to the world, or hold them tight when they're found at last, we're pretty sure there's hope for us all.