Rushing's Ramblings

Imagine this:  You’re napping for a few minutes, okay, maybe for an hour (hey, I’m old). Suddenly, the sound of a text message awakens you. You calmly look at the text, expecting someone to ask if you’re going to the town hall this afternoon (you are, or instead, it was your plan). The text reads, “EMERGENCY MESSAGE YOU ARE REQUESTED TO LEAVE YOUR HOME FOR A FIRE IN HORSESHOE BAY FROM POLICE.” (Grammar is unimportant when the message is scary) You start thinking about your exit and wonder how much time you have to get out of Dodge, so you run upstairs to the upper deck. You see a LOT of smoke over the tops of the trees but no fire. You figure you might have a little time to gather your thoughts and decide what’s essential to take with you. Your most critical possessions are by your side. Your dog and your daughter’s dog matter in those few moments of deciding what to take and leave behind. You race back upstairs, throw on some makeup (hey, I’m a woman, and a woman has her prioritie...

A mud-colored ribbon of a river runs along the Texas-Mexico border. It's almost dried up in places, while other river sections have rapids roaring between steep canyons. When you see the river from Big Bend on the American side with the gorgeous purple and golden Mexican mountains looming in the distance or glimpse at the sandy desert lands just beyond many of the Mexican border towns, it's easy to get distracted by the diverse beauty on both sides of the border. I've been on the Rio Grande a few times, from riding the rapids between those steep canyons in a raft to crossing into Mexico from the river twice, once in a small boat and once in a canoe. More than a few times, I've walked across the border. I never had a problem freely going back and forth without fear, as I'm an American and not brown-skinned. That's what white privilege does for you. It can make you immune and clueless to the suffering of people with brown or dark skin. There's an attitude by m...