Demands For Resilience

Image by Michael Piesbergen from Pixabay

I have been thinking about the topic of resilience all week.  Every day requires a new plan, while a pandemic forges forward, felling the human family in alarming numbers.

If I were still performing or teaching dance, I would have less choices in my response. Just stay home.

In Sedona’s world, this surfer girl in pointe shoes, her dance world, her high school,  would be closed. There would be few, and only local, surfers on the beach near her home.

She could still do her evening run with her black lab, but without her neighbor Laurence. At least not within six feet of her.

She would ruminate about how rich her family is, and how useless the guilt she feels about that is. Her family could barely get through a day without their long time housekeeper and skillful chef.

She is still a child, and would yearn for the fantastical world she experienced where such an illness would be swiftly overcome.

Below are some quotes from an article I read today, that sums up what I’ve been thinking all week. I don’t usually quote so much from others’ material, but it is perfectly expressed, so I will.

The full article is here in DANCE Magazine..

“During COVID-19, Dancers Must Reframe What It Means to Be Resilient

...”Broadway went dark, opera houses across the country were forced to shutter and dance studios started closing down.”…

…”Dance artists are resilient. We show up for work sick. We dance through pain. We rehearse when cities shut down for holidays and weather. We survive on meager wages. When one job falls through, we use creative immediacy to develop new opportunities. I have always been extremely proud of the resilient attributes of those who work in the dance field, until last Friday.”…

…”Dancers are taught from a young age to push through physical challenges. And we also develop a thick skin to help us deal with the emotional hurdles presented to us throughout our careers. But the challenge with the resilient dancer mindset is that we don’t always think through our expression of toughness beyond the world of dance. We urgently push through situations that others wouldn’t even consider, perhaps due to the urgency of our shorter careers.”…

I remember when I and another dancer Cindy Fisher, many years ago, performed with pneumonia and bronchitis, over a two week period.

Backstage, we placed cough drops in designated spots, so we could pop them in our mouths as soon as we ran off stage. We bought different colors so we wouldn’t get them mixed up. 

Because, no coughing like that backstage, right?

This week I go into the grocery store with a cough drop in my mouth. I have seasonal allergies and the pollen count is high.

I can just imagine the few folks in there scattering, if I were to break into a fit of coughing. I might be asked to leave!

We must shop, and some of us shop for others. We try to limit our outings. 

I wear gloves. I wipe down everything I take off the shelves. I have sprayed the shopping cart with rubbing alcohol. I tell the bag girl “don’t touch my stuff!” and bag the produce myself.

She looks offended. Sorry. 

I’m taking this food to someone who is always confined at home. We live in a town that doesn’t have a hospital – just a glorified ER unit. 

My health insurance company emailed me to stay home, with no offer of a test for this Covid 19 virus. They have mailed me other lab tests, unsolicited, which I view as great marketing, and ignore them. 

So where is my Covid 19 self-test? The lag in testing in the US, which I read described recently as “the first rich failed state”, is incomprehensible. The “we can do it better” attitude deplorably misplaced.

But that’s another topic. I wanted to share my thoughts about the resilience of dancers, and shared Barry Kerollis’ instead.

Thank you Barry.  



Maybe She’ll Be On Our Team

Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

For the Writers of Kern BMBC 10/26

Today I must go to the Post Office before it closes – not scheduled yet, but could happen!

Or I’ll be filing my tax return in October.

All that green beer going to waste in the pubs?


Happy St. patrick's Day sign

Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

Researchers in Queensland Australia say they have a cure for Covid 19. That will take a while to go global.

Canada asked to stay home, (back to the grocery store before orders come here.)

Yikes – busy day!

Here is a poem I wrote years ago. I pulled it out of the box and smoothed the wrinkled page.

Sneezed  – it’s just dust! I’m not sick.


Maybe She’ll Be On Our Team

Jeannie lived and worked
Before subsidized day care
Before women were paid the 100 cent dollar
(we’re still at 69 cents)
Before we knew about pesticides and childhood leukemia
She seemed a little stiff, a disciplined one
She couldn’t wait to clean up

She made it WORK.

She ran for office in her own way.


She made a not-lived- in model home

She spot-checked and ironed

Her daughter died -even tho’ she learned


why wouldn’t
She want a perfect world –
No fuss no muss.
The thing is SHE DID IT.
So whatever world we want
Maybe she’ll be on our team.

Jeannie Deporter Deceased 04-16-2009

Do you have material in a box somewhere too?


What Is An Endangered Species Today – Us Humans?

What Is An  Endangered Species

I found these two old posts saved from a now defunct website. They are about the death of a beloved dog in the jaws of a coyote. The ubiquitous coyote, a protected animal in SoCal, which inhabits the urban areas to hunt for food.

It is a protected animal. It is not an endangered species. You can’t shoot them, even as they jump into your yards to capture your pets. 

Here is the first old article I found.

Goodbye Daisy Y


small black terrier

“Beautiful little Daisy got nabbed by a coyote last night. She was a determined terrier and loved to patrol the perimeter.

(We try so hard to train our dogs not to be dogs.)

Days after she moved to her owner’s present home she found a way out through the fence and was found blocks away. Luckily someone found her and called her home.

Pets often do that when their family moves to a new residence.

The Night She Died

Her owner was super tired and slept more deeply than usual. Daisy crawled out of bed which she did regularly, because she ate at night.

In his dreams he saw Daisy, but the fur was gone from her back end and it was mottled with red spots.

The remains he found this morning were a much more brutal sight.

She was so totally his dog. Maybe she was his guardian?

I’m sure when she smelled the coyotes and found a screen open to the yard (that usually was closed) she went out to take care of them and protect him.

He doesn’t want to go home now and see her things.


We who have had pets, know how this feels.

I just texted my son about Daisy. Because he’s a pet lover and knows Daisy’s dad.

We’re linked with the god family and the step family and the Family family and the Pet family.

( – no longer a viable link).

It was quite a day. Finding out about Daisy and hearing her dad say ” I need a big dog next time” and then having Vone Deporter send me a Yahoo article about how coyotes take down big dogs skillfully.

Know what? We can’t stop dogs from being dogs.

We can’t stop coyotes from being coyotes.

And coyotes can’t stop humans from being humans.

Don’t worry Mama Coyote. I’m not after you because you’re protected.

I just wish humans were protected from each other!”

Covid 19 – How Endangered Are We?

That remains to be seen. 

Disney attractions are closed.

The NBA games are cancelled.

Theaters, festivals, cruises, all gatherings of over 250 people are cancelled.

Travel is cancelled, the stock market is falling, borders are closing.

I doubt we’re endangered, as a species. 

Yet sometimes I think it’s sheer luck that we haven’t endangered ourselves out of existence.

Can a law be passed  – anywhere – that humans must not kill each other?

Oh yeah, I forgot there is a law like that. In most countries, and in the Bible.

Yet breaking that law is big business! The biggest business in the world!

Countries blaming other countries for a virus outbreak illustrates the maturity of our species. 

But viruses are just being viruses, right?


The Simple Prompt To Write

Image by FelixMittermeier from Pixabay

The Simple Prompt To Write

Waiting for the perfect moment and setting to write doesn’t bring results most days. 

Poems get drafted on the backs of envelopes and shopping lists in many cases. A line or a scene from a movie can provoke an unexpected verse.

Writing everyday isn’t the easiest thing to do. Life is so distracting! 

Along with the 40 hour work week.

Here is a poem that was elicited by one word, given at a Writers of Kern meeting.



The hills are purple in evening

The sun has sunk behind the eastern hill

From my window I see three white cars

I know they’re white but


Now they are pale purple

Like the line on the shoulder of the boulevard

Like the house lights coming on

What is it that filters the spectrum to purple

At this time of day?

Moisture? Smog? Solar flares?

Or is it that same magnetism that often draws me to the window?


What do your unexpected passages get scribbled on?


What I Did On My Summer Vacation 1960

What I Did On My Summer Vacation 1960

The universal school task in September, right? 

In the many schools I attended, we were not given a book list to choose reading material from to read over the summer.

So we didn’t have to write a book report. This was because so many families moved, randomly, that such assignments were pointless.

In late August 1960 I and my friends – about half a dozen in the neighborhood – had been on the summer vacations with our families and returned.

We were now in that part of the summer when the vacay factor was wearing thin.

I got a couple of friends together and proposed we produce a dance show.

We didn’t have a theater. 

We each chose a three minute excerpt from a 78 vinyl record of Chopin Etudes. Piano music.

We began our choreography, with the space limitation in mind. We didn’t know exactly where our show would be performed.

Rehearsal Space

Rehearsals were in our basements. We rehearsed together, helping each other with ideas.

The basements were cool enough, yet we had light due to the highly placed tall windows with deep wells.


I chose a simple practice tutu. The performance tutu my mom had made me, 24 layers of tulle, a boned on the inside and sequined on the outside piece, seemed way over the top for this event.

The practice tutu was black, and pulled on like a pair of pants, over black tights and a black leotard.

Out of a catalog. 

The part that mattered was the row of colored scarves tied along my arms, and a fan.

I was a fish, and the fan provided the underwater movement of rippling fins, as I moved slowly, turning, bending and rising.

My friend’s garage was the stage.

The door was pulled up by two helpful audience members. 

There were the two rows of bridge chairs, eight seats, waiting for the show.

Not a bad turnout for a hot summer afternoon. The lemonade was free, and cold.

The scratchy recording started. (The two dancers not on stage were the stage hands).

The sound was too low. I could hear the trucks on the nearby highway and the buzz of the small planes overhead.

I wasn’t looking forward to school starting the next week. So, the show was something O.K. to do.

Two weeks after school started, my family moved to a tiny town about an hour’s drive south of the big base.

There was no ballet teacher.

The next two years were a grind. 

What did you do on summer vacation when you were 10?

This account was a seven minute writing exercise at a Writers of Kern meeting. 


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