Saturday Slight

Beware the Ides of March! 

Of course, I must admit that I thought almost all day long yesterday that it was the Ides of March. 

Twasn't until I saw something on TV in late afternoon about someone baking pies for "pi" day, that I realized that I had jumped the gun.

So, Et tu, Brute, and more dreading of what the Ides may bring today.  

I do know that this morning of March 15th brought expected snow.  It seems to have quit for a while, but there's a light coating on everything outside. 

Gee, has it been five years since the world changed with the Pandemic?

What do you remember most vividly about its beginnings?  

 Below are some thoughts and memories from a New York Times writer. 

 In the midst of a lot of confusion and sadness, there was creativity. 

Pandemic pods. 

Sourdough mania. 

Alfresco dining enabled by every conceivable form of outdoor heating element. 

A friend of mine started a dance troupe in her town that practiced its choreography on Zoom then performed their dances on neighbors’ lawns. 

Another built a bed in the back of her SUV and drove across the country, sleeping in her car. 

I reconnected with college pals I hadn’t spoken to in decades; once we realized how easy it was to FaceTime, it seemed ridiculous that we hadn’t been doing it all along.

                   ---from the New York Times newsletter

On this Saturday morning five years ago, Bill and I would be thinking about our strange Friday-night dinner gathering with my sisters at the City Dock.

Bill and I bought our dinner from ServaBurger, while Barbara and Laurie picked up some hamburgers, etc. from McDonalds.  

We then sat in our respective pickups on the dock with the windows rolled down.  We ate and visited and then went on our respective ways. 

Adding to the dramatic change in our Friday-night routine was the drive through town which was surreal. 

No cars.  No activity.  Just quiet on a Friday night. 

We knew the world had changed. 

It's interesting nowadays to think about how the events of the Pandemic changed us individually forever in our habits and in our outlooks. 

In the " a little good news today" department, I was excited to see this reaction to the West Ada teacher's decision to return the poster of welcome back to her classroom wall of her classroom after being told by district officials to remove it. 

She was told that not everyone feels like welcoming everyone, so the poster had to go, for her protection.

Since the story of this situation surfaced, the response in supporting her has been amazing.  

Definitely some good news for Idaho and its population, young and old. 

 

Wassmuth Center for Human Rights

A huge thank you to the 70 organizations in our community that have joined with us to say loud and clear: EVERYONE IS WELCOME HERE.

This message should be simple. It should be obvious. And yet, a recent incident at Lewis and Clark Middle School in the West Ada School District reminds us why we must reaffirm this core community value. 

A teacher was directed to remove a sign stating that “Everyone is Welcome Here” because it was deemed a violation of the district’s content neutrality policy. But let’s be clear—creating a welcoming environment isn’t a partisan statement; it’s a necessary condition for students to learn and grow.

Everyone means everyone. Every student deserves to feel safe, seen, and valued in their classroom. Without a sense of belonging, meaningful learning simply cannot happen.

History teaches us that words matter. We’ve seen exclusionary signs before—denying entry and services based on race, religion, identity, or background. Those messages didn’t just reflect discrimination; they promoted it. Today, we have the opportunity to make a different choice—to affirm that inclusion, kindness, and respect for human dignity define our community.

Silence is not neutrality. The Wassmuth Center’s Spiral of Injustice shows that injustice often begins with language. When messages of belonging are erased, exclusion becomes the norm.

 If saying “Everyone is Welcome” is seen as unacceptable, what does that tell our students about who belongs?

But words alone are not enough. A sign can declare our values, but our actions must bring them to life.

 The way we treat our neighbors, the policies we enact, and the small and big choices we make every day must align with our shared commitment to building a community where everyone belongs and thrives.

To every organization that added your name to this collective statement, THANK YOU for standing up for inclusive schools, workplaces, and communities. Your leadership makes Idaho stronger.

Let’s keep this conversation going so we can build an Idaho where everyone is truly welcome.

💚💜💛💓💖💚💛💜💙

I have my barnyard and barn almost ready for the return of the horses in April. 

Water trough filled.   Side doors to stalls open.  Stalls almost swept out.  

Still have to fix the electric wire around the enclosure so they don't eat quite so much fence. 

Then, we'll be ready for them to come home. 

Let's hope the Ides of March turn out well for you. 

Happy Saturday.