The City of Brotherly [PLEASE INSERT $300 TO READ THE REST OF THIS MESSAGE]

In a  completely Orwellian move, Philadelphia has decided to increase revenue flow and put a dent in its debt problem by charging  Philadelphia bloggers a $300 business privilege license.  According to the City Paper, this fee will be levied on the account that a blogger has the potential to make money off of their blog, even if they have not yet made a profit off their blogs.  Letters have already been mailed  to Philadelphia bloggers demanding the fee.  A full vote on the manner takes place in September, where they will discuss enforcement and how to proceed with who they license.

This latest move hurts my head on so many levels and reactivates some of my worst criticisms about the state of politics and money in Philadelphia.  Philadelphia is hurting.  The budget is blown, the city scraping for money wherever it exists.  I understand that they are working to balance the budget and fix the deficit to the best of their ability.  However, using tactics such as these hurts the city more than it helps.

Here are just a few of the taxes and fees that people who work and live in Philadelphia have to pay:

• City Wage Tax Residents:  3.93% on gross wages
• City Wage Tax Non-residents: 3.5% on gross wages
• Business Privilege License: $300 flat fee for running a business in Philadelphia
• Business Privilege Tax: 6.45% on taxable net income
• Real Estate Tax: 8.26% (total between city and school tax)
• Outdoor Advertising : 7%

There are also school income taxes, liquor taxes, net profit taxes, hotel taxes, parking taxes, etc.

Philadelphia residents and businesses are being taxed beyond reason. When the rest of the country is providing incentives for small-business owners, entrepreneurs, and freelancers, Philadelphia has gone the opposite way.  Without the incentive, entrepreneurs think twice about taking the risk or are forced to move out into the suburbs, causing a brain drain on the city.  Philadelphia is losing some of its best and brightest each and everyday.  The city penalizes innovation, creative thinking, discovery, the entrepreneurial spirit, hard work and dedication.

It penalizes the very people that make it great.

Philadelphia has a vibrant history.  It is the nation’s birthplace, the very symbol of independence, freedom, starting anew, a living symbol of  innovation as we built our nation from scratch.  And yet, the city dishonors it own history, denies its own spirit, denies its own citizens.  Philadelphia is its neighborhoods, its people.  Through the policy of  increasing taxes beyond reason, it will end up bankrupting the city both financially (more people and businesses moving out of the city equals a  lowers tax base) and cuturally.

This latest stunt just adds to the overall problem.  Furthermore, this fee is based on the POTENTIAL of those to earn money off their blog, even though the IRS considers what many of these bloggers earn as a hobby income, not as a business income.  It is a prohibitive cost to many, especially to those who blog a hobby, a creative enterprise, or a way to express their views.  It is a fee and a silencer put on the first amendment, whose existence took place in Philadelphia.

It is unacceptable.

We must not put a fee on a constitutional right.

We must not put a business fee on what is not recognized as a formal business.

Even though I do not live in the city proper, I have deep feelings for the city having grown up here.  I want our city to revitalize.  I want our city to be vibrant.  I want our city to maintain its culture.  I want our city to honor its people and their talents instead of trying to keep them down eeking every last cent.  I want our neighborhoods to become strong, healthy communities.

I want our city to practice the freedoms whose roots are deep within its hallowed halls.

It is crucial to the city’s  vibrancy to   challenge these laws and make our voices heard.  If we do not, if we remain silent, if we cynically accept this as the “way of Philadelphia”, her citizens will be silenced, her vibrancy will fail.  And we will have lost a treasure.

Happiness – Then and Now

So, when Cecily wrote me the other day asking me to write a post on the difference between what makes me happy now compared to when I was younger, I jumped at it.  What better way to fend off the predictable, depression and annual idenitity crisis of the “who am I, where have I been, where am I going, what is my influence, what am I going to be when I finally grow up” variety that is honestly starting to sound like Charlie Brown’s ineffective teacher in my own head?

Then, when I got to REALLY thinking about it, I wondered if what makes me happy really has changed at all.  I guess the idea is that as we get older, we get wiser, the things that make us happy change as we mature and undergo a metamorphosis.  Me?  Well, maybe I just have not reached that level of enlightenment.  Maybe I just have not reached that magical age where everything becomes clear (there is a magical age right?  Tell me I am nearing it….). Maybe I need to go back to study with the monks, because it seems like all the things that have made me happy in my life have changed in these subtle, nuanced ways.

Happiness then

Singing into a pool stick in my friend Danielle’s basement.  Singing along to Pearl Jam and Nirvana and Soundgarden and the Singles Soundtrack and the Thompson Twins and Cheap Trick and The Clash and Cyndi Lauper and Edie Brickell and Janis Joplin and the Doors and R.E.M and the Pixies and They Might Be Giants and the Beatles……

Happiness now:

Singing into a pen or marker (there is always one around or in my hand) with my kids in my living room or while jumping on my bed.   Singing along to the same as above along with Pomplamoose, and Evanescence, and Live and the Jimmies and OK Go and the Silversun Pickups and the Killers and Jason Mraz and Green Day and the Fray and Glen Hansard and the Barenaked Ladies and the Flobots and Rob Thomas and Otis Redding and Jack Johnson …..

Happiness then:

Performing on stage.  Dancing. Acting. Music.

Happiness now:

Speaking is my performance art.  Performing in front of a classroom. Performing  as a plantnum blond pixie cut waif drummer in my rock band “Almost Hatstand”.

Happiness then:

Being “edgy” by writing lyrics, and poems, and thoughts, and feelings on my bedroom walls in pastels or on my green chucks in black pen.

Happiness now:

Having clean walls.  And clean Keens.  Writing my thoughts and feelings on the walls of my much larger room…..the internet.  There is plenty of room to stretch out here.

Happiness then:

Dancing and hiking and climbing and jumping through open car windows. Slow seductions.

Happiness now:

Same.  But I also am just as happy with cool sheets against my skin for a quiet, lonely nap on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

AHHHHH.  Naps.

Happiness then:

My own success and achievement.

Happiness now:

Witnessing and having a part in the success of others. Seeing my students and children succeed. Realizing that their success is a reflection of my own.

Happiness then:

Nature.  Rocks.  Streams.

Happiness now:

Nature. Rocks. Streams.

Happiness then:

Helping others through community service.

Happiness now:

Helping others through community service.

Happiness then:

Looking for my next adventure.

Happiness now:

Realizing that each day, each moment is a potential adventure if you see it through.

Happiness then:

Armed with my 110 and my  N70.

Happiness now:

Armed with my DSLR.

See? The differences between my happiness then and my happiness now is in the semantics.  The happiness has always been in the simple, in the company of others, in laughter, in health, in action.  It is in these times of personal uncertainty of what and when and where and who I am that I launch this anchor, steady myself, and return to the simple.  And then, only then, do I let the happiness consume me.

Wow. Maybe I am grown up afterall.

What makes you happy?

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Part of bringing happiness to your life is simplifying things so you can enjoy it t0 the fullest. What makes you happy? How has your view of happiness evolved ver time? The DivaCup offers a simple, worry free, eco-solution to womenworldwide every month. Not a tampon, not a pad, finally a better way!www.divacup.com. The DivaCup is donating $100 to the Philadelphia Ronald McDonald House charity in the name of Corina Fiore.

My Permission

Renewed. Inspired. Driven to action.

My attendance at the BlogHer conference this weekend gave me alot to process.  First of all, the connection, laughter and conversations I had with close friends I don’t see NEARLY enough was enough to make the conference for me.  But, add the Change Agents sessions, and the Closing Keynote Address: How to use your Voice, Your Platform, Your Power, and I was transformed, reinvigorated.  The closing keynote featured Allison Stewart, Marie Wilson, Gloria Fedlt, and P. Simran Sethi; a powerhouse of women whose very existence inspires action, thoughts, words, and reminds me of my own power as a woman, mother, writer, and leader. I left the session ebullient, a fire in my belly.

Later that evening (much later), my friend Deb (who happens to be a writing rock star and inspiration) stopped us in the lobby to say goodnight. She turned to leave, thought better of it apparently, turned back, touched my arm and said,

“Corina, this is your year.  I feel it.  And I am never wrong about these things.”

Then she quickly turned to leave once again, leaving me standing there, breathless.

I have to say, I am not a person who flusters easily.  I am not a person who is often rendered speechless (even if I am quiet, taking in the conversation whole-heartily, I have words and thoughts bubbling in here, believe me).  Deb, well,  she knocked me right on my ass.  I felt the need to gasp for air.  Why?  Why did it affect me so?  Because suddenly, someone who is in this world, someone whom I admire, someone from whose writing I learn everyday, gave me permission.  Suddenly, just as I gave my student permission to succeed years ago, I had permission to succeed, to go forth, to take my voice and let it sing.  I never until that moment realized I even needed that.  As an independent, strong woman, I never thought I needed that push, the permission, the invitation to move forward and rock this gig.  Apparently, I did. I just want to thank Deb and the keynote speakers for giving me just that.

I went home.  After processing a bit more, Ben and I got to talking.  I told him about the inspirational keynote.  I told him about Deb and what she had said in passing.  I told him it was over-whelming, all the thoughts and ideas it ignited in me.  I told Ben I was not even sure where to start with it all.

He turned to me, the zen-like Buddha that he can be, and said, “It sounds like you received  many calls to action this weekend.  I guess the only thing left for you to do is to let go of your attachment to fear, answer the call, and show them what you are made of. ”

I hate it when he is right.

Except in this case, I secretly love it.

Thanks.

(I also want to thank the BlogHer organizers with a special thanks to Erin for working so hard on the closing keynote.  I know it meant the world to her.  And to my dear friends and soul sisters Ilina and Caroline….. thanks for spending yet another unforgettable weekend with me!)

The Pitch

The BlogHer conference is this week, baby. For those who are unaware as to what that even means, it is a blogging conference for women (and men) wishing to blog professionally, meet other bloggers, hone their writing skills, and work towards being change makers in our society. I was talking to some friends online about the “blog pitch”, or how to explain your blog to interested parties.  I was puzzled.  I mean, I know that this thing is for networking, but I don’t know how to “pitch” my blog. How do I pitch something as varied and personal as this?  I am really not pitching this blog to companies for review.   Neil told me I need to think about how they market books and movies.  That got my juices flowing…….

So here is my pitch:

Imagine.

I hike onto the marketplace floor in my Keens, backpack on my back, Natasha on my shoulder.  As I walk in slow motion, things explode behind me, my hair blowing in the fake wind.  A ninja stands in the doorway and bows before running at me, full speed.  I fight off said ninja with cunning, matrix-like moves. I dodge a dead flying rodent before entering the conference room to meet with my sisters.  Together, we are an autonomous collective, working to fight the status quo,  stepping up and speaking out against the worlds’ problems.  I carefully wield my pen and I am deft with my camera as we plot the world Utopian society. Plan in place, we leave to celebrate and dance to the cadence of our spirit. I leave the conference via canoe, save some adventure campers from a bee attack on my way to an awaiting rocket.  I blast off to fulfill my dream of teaching geology from the moon, sending my photos of the heavens home to Earth, inspiring world peace and happiness.

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So how is it, this pitch for my screenplay?  Oh, wait.  I was supposed to be pitching my BLOG.  DAMN.

This is my pitch, I guess.  Most efficient blogger ever.  No words needed, just a stroll across the BlogHer lobby.   I am going to OWN this pitch.

(No.  Seriously.  Help.)

Almost Wordless Wed.: Imitating a Supervillan

Sweetie in her attempts at Harley Quinn’s makeup style.

I think we have more than one problem.

But how can this face possibly say “Supervillian”?

Fighting Repeal of Diversity

Today the Wake County School Board in Raleigh, NC  will meet.  Today, the school board will further discuss their plans to redistrict the schools, effectively ending a decade-long policy aimed at creating socio-economic diversity in Wake County Schools.  Today, thousands will meet in downtown Raleigh to protest this decision, this decision that has been described by Claude Pope, chairman of the Wake County Republican Party, as a “mandate” by voters. The school board argues in favor of neighborhood schools and to end busing of students to create economically diverse schools.  They argue that this will make schools stronger, communities stronger, and is more convenient for parents.   Protesters argue that this is re-segregation, that those from poorer neighborhoods will  end up in faltering schools,  that many magnet schools will lose their funding,

Today, as a former high school teacher in Wake County Schools, and a firm believer that ALL students deserve the best that we can give them,  I wish I was at that protest.

I am not going to go into what the empirical data in test scores state about the diversity policy, as I will fervently argue that test scores tell very little about actual learning (although right now, before changes are in effect,  these test scores are showing a closing of the achievement gap across all economic situations and races).  I am not going to go into whether or not this policy is a form of racism.  What I am going to tell you is about my own experience as a teacher in Wake County Schools.  I will tell you about the  “evidence” I collected as teacher, the evidence that this diversity policy works.

I served as a  teacher at Sanderson High School in Wake County for three years, between the years 2002-2005. I served as co-advisor for class council.  I tutored and performed workshops for teachers.  I was highly vested in the school and the students. Most teachers I know in this school are highly dedicated to providing the best education for the students. Sanderson High School is in North Raleigh.  The current statistics of the school are diverse, with minorities making up over 46% of the population.  Over one-hundred students are Limited English Proficient.  I could not find any current information on how many students qualify for the free and reduced lunch program, however, if I am recalling this correctly, approximately 20% qualified for the program. The population was diverse, the challenges of differentiating, many.  However, in my experience, the diversity of the school was one of its great strengths.

Never in my time in Sanderson did I “dumb” down the curriculum for students.  I differentiated instruction and made sure that all students were learning to the best of their ability, that all students were challenged.  Was it difficult?  Of course.  But I would not accept excuses from myself or my students.  Many other teachers wouldn’t either.  Our job was to educate all the students, make sure all student had comprehension of the material, challenge all the students.  Can these things happen in neighborhood schools as well, demanding the best from all?  Potentially.  But……

Poverty is a difficult thing.  People who have lived poverty, worked with people in poverty, taught in poverty know that it is a strange and difficult state of being.  It truly gets in your psyche, changes communities, changes thought process, gives a sense of fear, a sense of loyalty and place.  I will give you an example.  I had this student at Sanderson.  He was intelligent.  He was crazy intelligent.  He had a good head on his shoulders, common sense, and the ability to succeed, if only he tried.  He also came from poverty.  One day, after earning a D on an exam, I pulled him aside after class.  I asked him, “What happened?  I know that you know this information.  What is the problem? Is there something going on I can help you with?”

He looked me straight in the eye.  His response took the wind out of me.

“Ms. Fiore, I can’t do well.   I’d be disrespecting the block. You don’t know where I come from.”

I think I paused, took a deep breath, and blinked 10 times before I answered.

“D—–, you are right.  I can’t know. But let me ask you, is this your block?  When you are here, in this school, in this classroom, you are not on the block.  You are on my block.  And here, on my block, you only have to worry about one thing, disrespecting yourself.  You are a smart kid, with real potential. You need to honor that. Many people here and at home, are working to give you opportunities.  Respect them, and yourself, and grab those opportunities.”

I challenged him.

I gave him the permission to succeed.

He left my class with an B+ average.

He is just one example of many that did better, learned more than they would have if they were in a school where the majority of kids lived in poverty, where resources were scarce,  where there was a high teacher turn-over rate due to burnout, and where there is  a constant reminder of who they might be disrespecting on the block.  It is a dramatic example, but an example nonetheless.  As teachers, we were all afforded a safe place where kids had the permission to succeed.  The Wake County diversity policy, by my own estimation and experiences, worked beautifully.  It took kids from poor neighborhoods and gave them a fighting chance.  It provided teachers with enough support that they would not face burnout from dealing with many of the issues surrounding schools of poverty. It provided a situation where a sense of despair was eased, where the sense of entitlement taken down a few notches.

Today, it has been taken away. Wake County is set to go back to neighborhood schools where there will be schools that will close, schools that will have a 90% or greater poverty level,  and where magnet schools will be in jeopardy of losing their funding.  There will be schools that will lack resources and a stable teaching staff.

More students will be lost in the system. We will fail them.

And for what?  For parent convenience even if that means a drop in student achievement?  For politics?  For the supposed “strengthening of neighborhoods”?  Is there empirical evidence that supports that?

Today, even though I cannot be there, fighting alongside the community, fighting alongside teachers and adminsitrators that know that this is a bad idea, I lend my voice.  I urge Wake County parents, teachers, students, and voters to stand up and not stand for this repeal.  I urge you to stand up and fight for all students, to give all of the students a chance.

I am standing here with you.