December 28, 2016 by Ithaca Times

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you wish and in any medium, your take limited only by the extent of your imagination. Whether through photography, poetry, a sketch or a story, essays, lyrics, anecdotes or journal entries, we have always encouraged people to spin the discussion any way they wished. As for aspirations as a topic, we feel this theme is one worth exploring and, given the world we live in today, is one worth diving into. Aspirations are and have always been the lifeblood of innovation and hope. They are the glimmer in our eye on the hardest, most mundane moments of our labor, a child’s smiling face on career day, the longing we feel when nothing seems to be going right. Aspirations are the dreams we fight for, the driver that wakes us up, the passions that define us. Aspirations are a symptom of faith, whether in ourselves or in our fellow man. No year in

recent memory has seemed more important to remind ourselves of this than 2017, a year where–no matter how things have turned out–we’ve come to realize we have a lot we can work on. This issue itself is an important one for a variety of reasons: it allows us and the community a glimpse into our neighbor’s minds, what they think and what they dream about and how they measure the world around them. It offers us a time to think and reflect on our values and emotions, giving us reason to articulate the essence of our lines of thought and present them in a coherent way. What this issue also does is it gives us an opportunity to reach out to each other and, most importantly, to listen. Maybe, along the way, we might even learn something.

who learned to Call and now feeds that power into his films. I’m married to a man who makes music from the spheres and shares it with men who know the secrets of the pyramids. One dawn on a green slope I held the moon in one hand and the sun in the other hand with perfect smiling balance. I’d already encountered my brother’s ghost, so Rod Serling’s didn’t daunt me. Calling the dragons is an acquired The physics, the engineering: the geskill, if you’re born with the blood for it, niuses took care of it all. But the sheer and a twisted enough sense of humor to star power needed? For that the dragons work through jokes into the serious and were Called. Which is where I came in, then back of course — into humor with the help The ‘Big Guess’ factor? Who again. It of Rod Serwould stay. Homeowners takes a lot of ling’s ghost. probably; renters maybe; the breath and For decades, homeless pulled both ways. a big round since the late Who would go? Students would mouth and 1970s, just have to decide by May, but the the willinga few years announcement went out on ness to keep after that viGroundhog’s Day (coincidence— on Calling sionary man or some dark joker’s idea) so until the glitdied, every they had plenty of time. ter of wings spring I’ve and the hiss taught Writof tongues ing Science fills the sky Fiction and above your head (for us, very often a gray Fantasy at the college, and not casually. I was born in 1952 (look it up in the one). Then you wait until they’re ready to commune. And then together you make Chinese horoscope) and I’ve had the fire the magic happen. And the dragons go of imagination in my belly all my life. I dance it. I make poems from it. I birthed back again to their own world. The walls are invisible, of course, and my daughter in 1988 and later my son,

so high with such a far ceiling we have no worry, no fear. Deep down into Cayuga, too, in case the tales of tunnels to Seneca are more than longtime rumors. All the entry roads—96, 89, 13, 79—send up a thick shimmer at the point travelers must turn away, and it’s the same on the lake for boats coming in from the north. Most of us had kept our eyes open. Most of us had traveled—west, north, east, south—and seen the shadows, the cracks that let the light out and didn’t bring it back in, the faces of people saying Nothing’s wrong. The world’s fine. We don’t want your alarm. Chicken Little, Chicken Little, go back to the farm. It was hard work, but we’re settled now, the seasons the same, festivals in June and October, the Farmers Market, The Commons thriving, every building full, art and music and food and politics vibrant and varied, mixing old with new. Most of the doctors and midwives stayed, and people are making babies. The magic’s holding. The city, the town — not a utopia, of course; no, we’d never risk that kind of hubris. We’re just us.

reader ’s w rites 2016

Aspirations

elcome to the last of this year’s 52 issues of the Ithaca Times: The Reader’s Writes issue. If you’re new to town, the last issue of the year has traditionally been a little bit different than those we typically put out through the year. In this issue, you won’t see any news, any headlines. Instead, we’ve reversed the roles we play, giving you stories, poems and original writing from your friends and neighbors, perspectives on life from people in the community whose voices you may otherwise essay

never hear. With each year’s issue, we try and set a theme to define a topic we feel is both ambiguous in its definition, yet reflective of a mood we feel defines the coming year. Last year was transitions, a theme we felt was vital to document the changes coming between the close of 2015 and the year we’ve just finished. This year, we decided to go not with something observational, but with a topic that deals in hopes, dreams and moonshots: aspirations. As is tradition, our themes for Readers Writes can be interpreted in any form

When We Called It By K ath ar y n Howd Ma ch an

he entire evolvement would never have been possible, of course, without the lake. And the gorges, with water pulsing almost everywhere underground like blood in a healthy human body. And the university, the college. And the fact that so many brilliant women and men opted to retire here. The ‘Big Guess’ factor? Who would stay. Homeowners probably; renters maybe; the homeless pulled both ways. Who would go? Students would have to decide by May, but the announcement went out on Groundhog’s Day (coincidence—or some dark joker’s idea) so they had plenty of time. Exactly where on each of the hills, and where to span the water: who knows how many meetings took place, secret for how long? The airport, the bus station: both were told to make arrangements, find jobs for transportation workers where they could adapt their skills, or send them off to other cities, other towns if they so chose.

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–N Nick Reynolds M a nagi ng E di t or , Th e It h ac a Ti m e s

Ithaca, New York. Ten enlightened square miles. Surrounded by reality.

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“Oh sure. When they all fled they left a lot behind. There is even electricity to run my refrigerator and stove.” “OK. I’ll join you. Let me go find a room.” “Good. I’ll make breakfast, and we can talk about all that is happening now. There is a good table in my kitchen.”

short story

Assad & Syria’s Fate By C onra d Al an Istock

ara looked out her window as early morning sunlight slowly spread over the huge slope of trash, and broken building and roof materials lying in front of her. She could see fragments of furniture, a toilet seat, curtain rods, curtains, and kitchen utensils. All signs of the former, humble, civilized life no longer possible for all her former neighbors who had f led toward Turkey when they heard the Russian attacks starting a few miles away. The slope of debris stretched from her window down to a narrow street. The broken material had fallen there when Russian planes bombed her building two days earlier. She still shivered thinking about the terrible noise of the bombing, and crashing down of parts from two top floors of her building. No one had died because she was the only person left hiding in the building. She had also heard Bashar al Assad’s military vehicles roaring around firing at buildings in this eastern part of Aleppo. As she leaned out the window it was clear she was old, probably in her early eighties. Her hair was white, and large

grooves and brown spots covered her face and bare arms resting on the window sill. She leaned out the window to the left as something caught her eye. She saw a person gently floating downward along the remaining jagged corner of the building. Then that person was there only twenty feet away. She recognized him and cried out. “Hafez al Assad, is that you? I thought you were dead.” “Oh Mara, how could I be dead and standing here talking with you? We faked my death intentionally in 2000 so Bashar take over Syria. Are you all alone here?” He stumbled over the slope to her window. She knew it was him. She had worked in Hafez al Assad’s office for years in the 1970s and 1980s when he ruled Syria. “Yes, I’m alone. Everyone else managed to flee by one means or another, some even in wheelchairs. But, even using a walker I couldn’t join them. I’m too old. I’ll also admit I want to see how things develop here, even though it may seem hopeless. It will be great to talk with you about all that has happened in Syria.” “Mara, do you have any food?”

Mara reacts: “Is there any hope?” “Not for anything I once dreamed of and struggled toward like real democracy with impr ov e d he a lth a nd e c onom y, hone st elections, and lasting peace. Those were my dreams back in the 1980s and 1990s and we made real progress. No, there is now little hope for a better Syria.”

“Bless you, bless you.” He said as he stumbled further to a broken doorway and went inside. He was not young, but probably not as old as Mara. He quickly

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found an intact apartment close to Mara’s, walked over and knocked on her door. “Come in and relax. I’ll have breakfast ready in a few minutes.” Hafez went to the window and looked across the street. There, complete buildings had come crashing down into piles of rubble. The same had happened on more

streets beyond. “Mara, did a lot of people die?” “No, not right here. A woman who lived here, and worked in one of the military offices warned us a few days before the Russian bombing. Everyone here fled north, including that woman. I suspect it was worse in other parts of Aleppo with no such warning. Really bad damage was caused by the Russian bombers. What does Putin think he is achieving?” “He’s supporting Bashar to thwart efforts by the U.S. and European countries, and several Arab countries, to remove Bashar from power. Putin wants to seek control Syria as part of his empire. And Bashar is so evil he does not care that hundreds of thousands of civilian lives, and their dwellings are already the cost. Or that millions are being driven from the Country. I think Bashar rejoices over these human costs.” Mara put food and coffee on the table, saying: “You never did anything like that when I worked with you.” “Yes, I did. Don’t you remember when the Muslim Brotherhood started that rebellion in Hamãh in 1982, and I ordered

a major attack on them? It was a terrible mistake. The town was mostly destroyed, and about 20,000 people were killed. Ever since, I’ve called that attack my single ‘conscious evil’ and swore to never do it again.” “Now, I do remember, and you never did it again. In similar attacks Bashar and Putin, with help from Hezbollah and Iran, have already killed more than 500,000 civilians, and driven millions of refugees from our Country. It is pure, unrestrained evil. Why did you choose Bashar to be your successor?” “He was not my first choice. My first choice was my brother Rifaat, but later I realized he was corrupt, and when he tried to seize power in 1983 I had him exiled from Syria. My next choice was my son Bassel, but he died in a car crash in 1984. So, next I chose my son Bashar. He had a good education, though no relevant political experience. I thought since he had lived in Britain, and spoke English, he would choose to move Syria toward real democracy. My plan was that Bashar would take over in 2000, and continue to follow my plan to make Syria a strong democracy. Now it is clear that I was definitely wrong. “When peaceful protests came in 2011 he reacted as I had with the Brotherhood in Hamãh, only worse, and his evil reactions along with support from Russia and Iran may have set Syria on a course toward destruction forever. He missed a great opportunity to stay as president of a truly democratic Syria.” “Why has he been so evil?” “I can’t say. Perhaps it is something about stupidly wanting to always have unlimited power. Without Russia’s help he would not have anything like it right now. I’ll think more about this, and we can talk later. Right now I’ll walk around this part of Aleppo to grasp the scale and extent of the damage, This afternoon I’ll be back.” “That will be great, and I’ll have food for our supper.” Four hours later Hafez returned. “Oh my God! What a terrible mess we have in this part of Aleppo: schools, markets, churches and hospitals completely destroyed. At one place I could watch the destruction by both Russian planes and Bashar’s army occurring a mile away from where I was hiding. Everywhere I went I saw the same horrible damage to our local civilization.” Mara reacts: “Is there any hope?” “Not for anything I once dreamed of and struggled toward like real democracy with improved health and economy, hon-

est elections, and lasting peace. Those were my dreams back in the 1980s and 1990s and we made real progress. No, there is now little hope for a better Syria. What Putin wants is to defeat all the rebels fighting against Bashar, and remove ISIS, leaving Bashar as dictator of Syria. This will further Putin’s hope to increase all of the refugee emigration, and greatly weaken the U.S., Europe, and NATO. In this way Russia can become the only World Power. Vladimr’s plans are pure evil, and may well succeed. He wants the same with Ukraine, Chechnya, and other countries. He has opened the way to success for Bashar’s recurrent claim that he will retake all of Syria in a long war. I need to think hard about what might curtail Putin’s ambitions.” Later they had the small supper. Afterward Hafez politely thanked her saying he was going to rest. Mara never saw him again. One day a year later in 2017 two young girls were running by when they saw Mara at the window. They repeatedly cried out: “We need help!” as they climbed to her window. She opened the window, and let them climb in. They could not have been older than five or six. She took them to her bathroom, and cleaned them up. Their names were Markas and Tolket. She sat them at her kitchen table, and made a large breakfast. They shared her other bedroom, and lived with Mara as days upon days went by. They told her that a bomb hit their building killing all their parents. They were not really sisters but now, they were, with Mara as their mother. The destruction of eastern Aleppo quite a distance way from Mara’s sanctuary raged on almost every day. Tolket and Markas had not been to any school, but now Mara gave them four hours of intense lessons in many subjects six days each week, complete with ‘homework’. They loved it and especially her use of many books left by the people who had f led. They also loved making drawings based on their readings.

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Mara frequently wondered if Hafez had really been there. She wondered if he really might have died in 2000, even though he denied that when he was with her last year. She often thought: Had it really been him? Well, maybe his return was some sort of heavenly miracle—a vouchsafing of truth about the evils of Bashar al Assad, and Vladimir Putin. If so, he, or someone like him, will probably visit the Middle East again, in different guises.

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memoir

If At First You Don’t Succeed By Frank Ke l ly

y wife returned from work at the hospital to find me sitting on the front porch roof on what was, otherwise, an ordinary Tuesday. There I am, only a few feet from a bedroom window but I’m paralyzed, unable to move. Acrophobia: the fear of

heights. I’ve suffered from it since I was a child. At one point, in my late teens and early twenties, I aspired to cure myself of it. That was before I studied Family Therapy and learned about phobias. But now there was no excuse. Now some of my clients suffered from phobias. And I’d

been successful in helping some of them overcome theirs. Yet here I was, sitting on our porch roof looking like a house cat stranded up a tree, saying hello or nodding to joggers, dog walkers, kids walking home from school, the mailman. And, to top it off, I had a bladder badly in need of

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emptying. “So, Sweetie … What ya doin up there?” she asked with a smile. “Waiting for you, Dear … to pass me a rope from that bedroom window … and be sure I get to the ER, if I slip in the process and wind up in those thorn bushes. By the way, who did you sign out to? And who’s on call from orthopedics?” The good doctor has learned to take such drama in stride. She disappeared under the porch roof and, moments later, was sticking her head out the bedroom window, holding a length of heavy nylon rope she’d retrieved from the basement. “This what you were looking for, handsome? It’s yours, if you promise to cook dinner.” Five minutes later I was safely inside and headed for the bathroom. She made us drinks and we set out on the front porch – beneath the roof like normal people – and talked about what had happened. I was even able to laugh. I told her stories about my campaign to overcome that phobia. Working one summer at a paper mill, I’d walked the steel girders of a new section under construction. The year before I had, in the course of one summer: climbed Mt. Rushmore (the back side … illegally), biked the Headlands north of San Francisco and hiked into the Grand Canyon. I’d even

“I thought I had this irritating problem whipped. But it turns out these kinds of “desensitization” exercises, while potentially powerful, are best designed, supervised and sustained. I’d overlooked that minor detail.”

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dangled my feet off the edge of a 300foot cliff. I thought I had this irritating problem whipped. But it turns out these kinds of “desensitization” exercises, while potentially powerful, are best designed, supervised and sustained. I’d overlooked that minor detail. Lacking the commitment to that kind of approach, I’ve adopted a different strategy. I avoid excessive heights whenever possible, shrinking back and whining like a two year old when my wife leans over balcony railings, scales a rock outcropping or pirouettes along a seaside cliff. I do own an extension ladder and use it Contin u ed on page 7

short essay

poetry

Untitled A

Botany For Beginners

By Barbara We s t

By K ath ar y n Howd Ma ch an

s a young mother I most wanted roots and wings for my children. I wanted them to be critical thinkers and I loved the saying that “children are not things to be molded but people to be unfolded.” Joy came from hearing them express how they saw their world. Now I volunteer in assistant living facilities and communicate with adults, some of whom are over one hundred years old. I still have great joy in hearing people express themselves. If someone is telling me that after our visit they are going home to have hot chocolate with their mother there is no need for me to tell them they are home and their mother is long gone. My aspiration for them in that moment is a pleasurable memory. I feel like they already have roots and now as they spread their wings, I want to be carried along with them as they weave in and out of years past. Sometimes I would look at my babies and wonder where exactly they came from. Now I look at people who lived full lives and wonder where exactly they are going. I’ve always been more comfortable with not having an answer than with accepting someone else’s belief. Perhaps my aspirations for my children were one and the same for myself. “We don’t see the world as it is, we see it as we are.”

You have to leave the city first: don’t let those new ghosts detain you with their mystery grins up through cracked pavement, lurid patches of paint on stained walls. New York. Boston. Chicago chewing lake air like fat. Even Louisville with its horsy hay, New Orleans’ stench of high water. Carry seeds — or better yet take just a sack and find them as you journey greenward. Ignore pigeons. Crows will start casting their wide-winged shadows as soon as you pass your first field. Think of Jack and his milky white cow. Think of bold Johnny’s firm apples. Exactly when you can’t walk anymore find the blackest earth you can reach. Use a finger. Use a stick. Push down through the ground’s broken bones.

Then steadily plant what will split and erupt and yield what you’ve risked and survived. You’ll never go back. You’ll wait to harvest, forgetting the rust of bricks that scrape sky, the black eyes of rats drowning hungry. Katharyn Howd Machan is a faculty member at Ithaca College with additional active roles in the Women’s Studies Program and the Gerontology Institute. She has published 30 poetry collections, and her work has appeared in numerous magazines, anthologies, and textbooks. In 2002, Katharyn Howd Machan was appointed as the first poet laureate for Tompkins County.

Memoir

Contin u ed from page 6

for things like accessing the garage roof to clear it of fallen limbs after a storm or cut back limbs on the ancient Lilac bush that yearns to shade my neighbor’s garage. But I now hire someone to remove winter ice dams, replace attic windows or inspect the chimney. I choose snowshoeing over downhill skiing, bribe my grandkids rather than take them on Ferris Wheels or Roller Coasters and do my best to avoid the nose bleed sections of the Carrier Dome, even if they’re significantly cheaper. It helps that I have more money … and less to prove. But thinking back about my life long struggle with Acrophobia, I must confess pushing myself, as I once did, to venture out beyond my comfort zone, cleaned out the carburetor. In its natural form, Adrenalin is not a controlled substance. It’s legal and a lot healthier than some popular artificial substitutes. I’m not a junkie. But I miss the occasional high. Maybe I’ll think about Skydiving? Wasn’t that how George Bush celebrated his 90th birthday?

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short story

Alternative Universes By Lu ann Kr ul l

ow,” Sam says, securing enormous earphones over his ears. His black knit hat is low on his forehead, almost covering his green eyes. “I want to go now.” That he does not wait is progress in the purest sense: some part of Sam’s mind is cogent and in tune and thank the gods that he does not slump in a chair in front of the bay window and stare out to the woods behind the house and watch the woodpeckers and crows think about everything that could go wrong, as if the world and all people within a 15-foot radius of him wished him a quick death. They told me to eat sh*t and die, Mom, Sam had said, his eyes wide. That’s why I can’t take the bus anymore. When you don’t want to do something there are hundreds of compelling reasons not to. Take a bath! Walk up the road. Open the door. Hundreds. Some of it is instinctual, illogical, but feelings are strong and why shouldn’t feelings be strong: thoughts are actions and even small actions change, slightly, the brain’s biochemistry. Do we control our molecules or do they control us? Mom, did you call me a moron? Why did you call me a moron? You can think and think and think and the mind can be a terrible thing at times, embroiled in an endless loop that can be impossible to stop. Reader beware: that loop varies from person to person and the amount of variance can put you on a different planet where even the gravitational constant is not constant. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist; alternatively just because you can see or hear it, doesn’t mean it does exist. When I went to the doctors, Mom, they were all making fun of me. Do you know how that made me feel? I’m a person. A real person. Don’t you understand how hard it is for me to make my appointments? But now, The Now, the earphones, the knit hat low: I would call that strategic thinking. “Mom,” Sam repeated with more urgency. I looked at Sam: six foot three, 250 pounds, twenty-years-old, then outside 8

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the kitchen window where the snow was falling, twilight, a most lovely twilight, all imperfections soon to be covered by snow. Is this a person who should fear the world? You wouldn’t think, would you? Handsome, clear eyes, philosopher, writer, an individual who was always thinking, perhaps had too many thoughts, conflicting thoughts. Solid As in college, when he was in college. And he wants to return. “We normally have 70,000 thoughts a day,” Sam had said. “And each one is an action,” I replied. Sam wasn’t the only one researching the mind. “Let’s say half of those are misperceived. 35,000 thoughts. It is a fact that one in a hundred people have a postsynaptic density, or call it an electron-dense thickening of glutamatergic synapses. Having this condition means you have a mental illness. The synaptic response is influenced by kalrinin, a protein, part of our neurotransmitter system that releases dopamine and glutamate. Some people just don’t produce enough kalrinin, and it’s not as though you could just take a pill and everything would be fine. Studies of mice with kalrinin deficiencies (but remember, Mom, we don’t share all genes, even a difference of 1 percent is a game changer) showed impaired working memory and strategic thinking.” “Strategic thinking. Ah hah.” That would explain the inability to leave the house for two months, the daily war with peanut butter and jelly on the kitchen counter, the floor, the door knob, the inability to brush the teeth, the bland affect, the missing of social cues. “What if a person needs a quarter of those 70,000 thoughts just to put one foot in front of the other?” Sam said. “Then how can you do the so-called ordinary? Researchers have found over-activity in the auditory cortices and altered connectivity in the frontal cortex weakens control by the prefrontal, premotor and cerebellar cortices. This is where neuroimaging data have shown that hallucinations happen. The meds help regulate that activity by damping the positive symptoms or hallucinations. That’s all. They damp. So when I leave the house,

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my familiar environment, my universe changes and because a certain percentage of my thoughts are stressed big time, to find a familiar place to latch onto sometimes becomes impossible.” “Now, Mom. Let’s go.” “What about dinner?” The rice had just started to boil, and the garlic and onions for the chicken bubbled gently in olive oil on a back burner. Roger sat on his haunches, looking up at me with his dog eyes, raising his nearly invisible eyebrows into the daily 5 pmdemand: I have to pee. Now. “You don’t want to wait until 7 when the dinner crowd is gone?” Five pm is peak time, however,. Dr. X, Sam’s psychologist, has encouraged Sam to take a chance, by that I interpret a reasonable chance because a failure can set him back weeks. Months. Conversely when you have a success, no matter how small, build on it. Keep going, do not collect two hundred dollars as you pass Go. Go go go, but be aware, exist in the present moment, don’t let even a minor opportunity slip by because sometimes that may be all you have. He stood in the hallway, hand on the coat zipper so I turned the burners off, grabbed my coat, wallet, keys, steeled myself for a puddle of dog pee on the kitchen floor: you had to pick and choose, take the path of least damage, the path that gives the greatest return on effort. Sam lead the way outside, feet shuffling through the soft rapidly falling flakes, then into the Honda, and seat belts secured, I backed up onto the road and we drove down the hill into town, and through two lights -they were green – a sign the heavens were with us, or if you believe in synchronicity: our electromagnetic fields were aligned. I was practicing the gap, the meditative pause, careful not to say a word, my own strategy of trying to understand the mind in the broadest sense, yet staying in the present and respecting Sam’s space and universe. Earlier we had talked about alternative universes. “We all live in our own universe,” Sam had said, staring at me, willing me to dispute this observation. I nodded, and waited, always because there is more: wait until it all comes out and see if there’s some way I can reason with him. It depends. And tell me, who really hears what another person is saying? Our personal monologue is always in the background competing with our conversations with the outside world. At times Sam is a mystic, and you listen to every word because you know you will

learn something from him – and isn’t that one of the great things about life? That we constantly learn? But then sometimes the mystic is high-jacked by semi-conscious part of the brain, and how and why this part suddenly dominates, well, that’s what we don’t know. “My universe is very different from yours, Mom. I can’t do the same things you can do, so don’t expect me to.” I nodded. “Sometimes I want to stay in mine, but I know deep inside, that it’s dangerous to be there too much, and too often. And then sometimes I get stuck, and I can’t get out because I don’t know that I’m stuck.” I pull into the massive parking lot. This particular grocery store had grown in size and appeal in the last twenty years because there was something for everyone: Sunday morning families would share brunch and take gargoyle-like photos of the new babies, singles would mingle in the produce section. Once I even saw a wedding party: young ESL teachers had flown over from China and they were waiting in line for coffee after a 7 a.m. after the sunrise service on the lake. As I open the car door to exit (choosing not to look at Sam), I reiterate the plan: 5 or 6 items, 10 minutes max, meet back at the car. I trotted into the store almost running into the glass door (thinking I should have mentioned: get something healthful!) but I kept running, gathering up provisions in the blue basket: organic salad, frozen salmon (omega 3s for healthy brain matter), bananas, almond milk, walnuts (3 minutes), then headed for the self- checkout (2 minutes) then out the glass door, our speeds better adjusted this time, through the parking lot to the car where Sam was sitting upright in the passenger’s seat. “Back!” I say softly, as I toss my bag in the car’s backseat. “Mom – you want a pumpkin bar? Or here, take a cookie. I got a couple different types. It’s been a long time since I’ve had something this good to eat.” “How was it?” “Not bad.” Dear reader: when you see someone walking down the street, his eyes staring blankly ahead of him walking as if he is in a mine field, understand that he might actually be in a mine field. Give him space. Give him time. Your mind will expand, and your universe just might too.

Thoughts And Observations By Tom Cl au se n

life as we know it a walk in the park... some days

red berry galaxy this wild world home

taking me back... water laps gently at the shore

along the walk I stop to stand still

too much on my mind to let go....

full mooniâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll get back to myself someday

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Corn Rows For My Brother

Half A Block To Go By D oug l a s Ma cl e od Hey Mister, why you walk so funny?” This broke my concentrated stumbling ½ a block til I could drop & count the hours til morning

By G. Gray

Those eager young girls worked tirelessly on my hair starting in the afternoon and toiling until the sun packed up its light and wended on home when they were done we counted thirty two rows of alien fair-haired weaves squeezed ever so tightly absolutely skillfully across the tiny expanse of my astounded blonde head

your rejection of all things empty of love that great yawning loneliness the memory of a father who one day when you were a boy called you nigger did you know that I offered my head in honor of your choices for respect of your values in hope that your home had finally been found?

did I ever tell you this? that I understood why you choose this world this African bride these lovely dark poetic people who still know something of family and hugging their porches on soft summer nights?

what a scene it was the next day when out they came those unbridled braids you and the whole neighborhood laughed uproariously at the wild blonde Afro!

I’ve often heard things in my head that came from out of nowhere Again “Hey, why you walk so funny?” This voice was sounding clear I raised my head, & pivoted, shakily My eyes matched a tiny face to the muffled voice The face was young, so young it shone I faced innocent youth & could only fumble to conceal The flask sticking from my worn coat jacket The eyes, that were her face Were waiting on an answer I coughed up years, from rusted pipes & rubbed my beard- in pretend thought I was ripe to disappoint her & I hoped I wouldn’t scare her Before I said a single word She moved to her next question It’s one that I’ll take to my grave “Why you smell like my daddy, when

he hits me?” I wondered if I was capable of tears Now I knew I wasn’t I’d cried myself dry, through the years & my heart was so used to aching But this pain cut through any known & I reminded her of it I was it ½ a block to go & I was facing The child I’d always feared – could be my own I searched my rotted soul for a reply She was waiting still . . . . . . But she had moved a few steps back I said “Honey, don’t be afraid of me I walk this way because I don’t see The path as well as you do I’ve been stepping up hills & against winds For so long & I’m dizzy. . . . . most days She looked at me – as children do & seemed a bit confused Not knowing what to do & not able to run, I went on . . . “ I think the smell comes from being different Your dad & I don’t have the special gift you do He’s only angry with himself You should treasure your gift Because you are very special” I hoped I made a difference I hoped I eased her mind I tottered to find balance To keep her safe, from harm

She turned her head, Her eyes lit up She’d seen a butterfly & she was off, to follow it & I began to cry ½ a block to go is all Though it would seem 10 miles I put my head down and walked on, in steps, just like a child.

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poetry

Four Poems

ICa rus & The Merm aid

By Er ic Ma ch an Howd

In The Nu rsing Home

At L ittl e tree orch a rds

we are taught apples languaged in ripeness and bloom

One is silent, smiling.

as sky solemnly loosens billowing rain and grey on our hidden hands, the looks we surrender to desire

but the sun knew their fascination and the ocean their love;

hawk wings mid coming rain turning over and again

in their honor whales fly and gulls sing.

and you ask

These lovers, like rainbows, live somewhere between the rain.

So as they chase each other, laughing, her eyes slowly return to the flowered wallpaper in front of her and she calls them beautiful and someone behind the flowers answers yes.

In the Sistine Chapel God reaches towards Adam and does not touch; that small white space between them chips, cracks, turns yellow and their faces remain indifferent.

What if she sang to him and he fell into her arms?

The women in the hall sit on a wooden bench waiting.

One offers her thin trembling arms, and her soft, well-worn lap to children as they run past; they donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t stop to see her and she winces.

Da edalus

Some would say, her treachery, and most others, his misfortune,

how often must one die for bliss?

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How could a man who designed a n u nsolvable ma ze a nd beeswa x wings accept that same void when his son fell? Not even attempt to dive after him, touch his hand, pluck a feather, just to say he tried, he tried... Eric Machan Howd is an assistant professor in the English Department at Ithaca College and currently teaches Professional Writing and Academic Writing with the Writing Department. He is the Writing Departmentâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s longest serving Lecturer and presently serves as an Assistant Professor in Professional Writing on a one-year line. (2016-2017).

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sians in Ovida (now Oradea), Romania, and the only shoes the family were allowed to manufacture were black Russian Army boots. Meinhard had been the family designer of ladies shoes at the factory and there was no place for him now. He needed to leave to make a name for himself in his trade. So the couple pooled their money, asked family reasons Meinhard was attracted to Vilma for financial help, wrote to Meinhard’s as he was also interested in fashion, but cousin in Brooklyn, bought their tickmostly in shoe design. When Vilma was ets for the steamship and had left their a teenager in what was then, Hungary, home and their family 8 days earlier. The before the borders changed, she flirtocean ride was fairly smooth and neither ed with the Russian soldiers who came one of them experienced seasickness, to her father’s store before she married but Vilma wanted to keep the baby away Meinhard. She learned a few Russian from diseases and other children, which phrases and many of the soldiers told her is why she stayed in the cabin mostly and she would make a great actress because dreamed of better days ahead, looking she was tall, beautiful and could imitate at the magazines like Picture Play and the stars like Lillian Gish and Marion Photoplay she brought with her despite Davies. Vilma even the limited space told some of the sol- The agent told them it would in her suitcase. She diers that she was be better if he was called worked on hand going to America “Morris” because it was sewing baby clothes one day and would easier to spell and “Wilma” for Georg and be in the movies because nobody in the US stared out into the so she would have uses the old name with a stars from her little jewels and furs and “V,” which would make her round port window lots of money. The more Americanized. The at night. soldiers believed agent changed their names The baby was her and encouraged o n t h e i r e n t r y p a p e r s . restless again so her to pursue her Within 10 minutes, they she took him back career. Now she had were now Morris Katz and from Meinhard and a chance to have a Wilma Weisz Katz. discreetly put him whole new life in to her bosom unthe United States. der her summer weight coat. Their turn The ship anchored in the harbor the came and they approached the Customs afternoon of July 10, 1923, at Ellis Island Agent and said their names, first Meinand the Katz family were now waiting for hard, than Vilma. The agent told them it their turn to meet with the customs offiwould be better if he was called “Morcer, undergo a medical examination, and ris” because it was easier to spell and then locate the address of her husband’s “Wilma” because nobody in the US uses relative in Brooklyn. The small family the old name with a “V,” which would had been standing in the grand hallmake her more Americanized. The agent way for about three hours after the boat changed their names on their entry padocked. Their turn was coming up soon pers. Within 10 minutes, they were now and there were only about 5 people stand- Morris Katz and Wilma Weisz Katz. To ing in front of them before the agent. baby Georg’s name, he added an “e.” Meinhard and Vilma felt anxious and They walked to the area for the health excited and the baby began to sleep in his examination, waited an additional two father;s arms. hours, were examined for diseases of the On this warm day in July, she waiteyes, diseases of the lungs, and were then ed with suitcases, her husband, and her processed as refugees for acceptance into baby with nothing ahead of them except the United States. When they boarded hope for work and a place to live. When the ferry to take them to the mainland in Meinhard discussed the idea of coming Manhattan, George was awake and apto America, she immediately said yes and peared to be watching everything. Wilma began searching the fashion magazines and Morris found a horse-drawn taxi, for the style of dresses to sew to wear for handed the address of the cousin to the the journey. The Katz family shoe facdriver and set off for Brooklyn. tory had been taken over by the RusTwelve years later, after moves from

Vilma’s Journey By Barbara K atz-Brow n

ilma stood in the long line of people shifting the weight of the three month old in her arms from one foot to the other, one hip to the other, until she looked up at her husband and said, “Please take the baby for a while.” Meinhard took the baby from her as she stretched her arms and her back. The three of them had crossed the Atlantic Ocean on the steamboat called “The Majestic” from Cherbourg, France, after taking a horse-drawn carriage to the train in Ovida, Romania. It had been a week long ocean journey, but their little cabin on the boat was like an oasis from the people onboard. They would leave the cabin for at least a few hours each day to eat in the boat’s mess hall when it was their shift, but Vilma always hurried back after the meal. Meinhard would stay in the hall and socialize with the men as they exchanged the reasons for wanting to come to America, or to discuss their businesses or who they knew in New York. Twenty-six year old Vilma had lots of time to think about her future as she cared for baby Georg. Would her husband find work as a shoe designer? Would she have a better life for her son in America? Was she just another non-English speaking Hungarian immigrant with no formal skills? Vilma had only one marketable skill which was her ability to sew and embroider, but she aspired to be a silent movie star like the women in the movie magazines she read about in her father’s dry goods store in Ovida. Often the salesmen who supplied goods to the store would bring her the magazines, older than the month they were published, but from America and France. She realized she would have no clue how to make her acting career happen anywhere she lived, but would still practice poses and facial expressions in front of her mirror every day. Vilma was also interested in fashion and managed to either sew or adapt old garments into the latest styles she saw in the magazines. The people in her community commented on her ability to look like a movie star, even if she was not in the movies. This was one of the 12

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Brooklyn to Ohio to Massachusetts and back to Brooklyn, Morris finally found steady work as a shoe designer with the Selby Shoe Company in New York City. His most famous shoe design was a platform wedge shoe worn by the actress Carmen Miranda, along with a fruit inspired headpiece, so she would appear to be taller than she really was on stage. George had attended twelve elementary and junior high schools because of the moves his father needed to make to get work. The Katz family had another child, a brother, Benjamin, about four years after the couple passed through Ellis Island. Morris died pushing a car to get it to start when George, my father, was sixteen years old, forcing him to work in Macy’s stock room in New York City and deliver groceries to old folks during the day throughout the neighborhood in order to pay the rent for the family apartment. George completed high school at night, and after 4 years of Army service in World War II, attended Rutgers University and Rider University on the G.I Bill to become an accountant and tax collector. Wilma worked her entire life as a laundress, a seamstress, a nanny, a cook, and never became an actress. However, she always took great pride in looking up to date with her wardrobe, hair and make-up. She married again while George was overseas in the service and she became Wilma Freund. Later on, she entertained her grandchildren with stories of the actresses in movies she had seen and the fine clothes she had worn. She never lost her love of fashion, movie stars and movie star magazines during her 98 years of life. She just passed her interest in “haute de couture” and the theatre onto her granddaughters, my cousin, Iris and me. Neither one of us became actresses, but we sure do have Wilma’s sense of fashion style and interest in plays and movie stars. As the years went by we would repeat Wilma’s stories and now Wilma’s great-granddaughters and greatgreat granddaughters are fashion bugs and they follow the movie stars of these times. What we as a family have learned is that not everyone gets to fulfill their innermost aspirations for themselves, but when expressed to others, the pursuit of those dreams can influence generations to come. Barbara Katz Brown is an Ithaca resident and the author of Climbing The Rock Wall: Surviving A Career in Public Education.

‘Firefighter For A Day’ essay

Grief By Ne il G ol d e r

pile. But something isn’t right. It ‘s still too whole, too serviceable, to be sent to the dump. I go over and break off one of the front legs. “There, it can’t be used any more. Now it can be taken away.” But not so fast. A few days later the pile is still there, with the chair on top. Something starts to prey on me. I have acted badly: I have disrespected that chair. I have maimed and discarded a thing that has supported so many souls for so many years, selflessly. Now it speaks and asks for things to be set right. It ‘s late on a cold spring night. A fire is burning in the wood stove. Something or some one makes me turn on the light and go outside. I bring in the chair. With difficulty I break off the other front leg and the still-attached cross piece. I push the seat up and down, again and again, until it breaks off from the back section. Then I open the stove door and put the pieces that can fit into the fire. I go back outside and gently place the remaining parts back on the pile. I am wracked with regret: Couldn’t I have fixed the chair or had it repaired or brought it to the Re-use I am wracked with regret: Couldn’t I have Center? But fixed the chair or had it repaired or brought also, from it to the Re-use Center? But also, from somewhere, somewhere, something grows, a prayer in the something heart for forgiveness. For what I have done. grows, a prayer For all that we have done. To simple things in the heart that serve us, unnoticed, unheeded, quietly for forgiveness. For what alive. I have done. For all that we have done. To simple things that serve mals, hundreds of books, two pianos-us, unnoticed, unheeded, quietly alive. objects large and small that have come The next morning, I go downstairs to to rest here over the years. Some of check the stove. I open the door and look them are Kathy’s, some mine; others in. As it always does, the fire has turned the gleanings of the many people who everything to ashes and embers. But the have lived here. Amidst all these things leg of the chair which I put in last night the urge is to get rid of, to simplify. The is still there, unconsumed. desire is to hold, to treasure, to save. But not that old broken chair. So when I notice the pile of construction debris that the workers have left next to the porch, I think, “this is a good time to get rid of that chair once and for all.” I take it outside and toss it onto the or some reason, I decided to live the rest of my days in the old house: to make it safer and more beautiful, to tear out the walls, put in more windows, let in the light. And then “they” decided to build right next door to the south—a building twice the height of my house blocking out sun and air. And then there’s this chair. It’s an old wooden chair, old when we got it at a thrift store forty years ago. The fake leather seat is cracked and caving in. The joints are so loose that it wobbles when you sit in it. Not long ago someone rested their feet on the crosspiece between the front legs. It broke. I moved the chair to a corner and later, when an electrical outlet was exposed after a wall was removed, placed it over the spot to keep people from tripping. In the years since Kathy took her last breath, I’ve been re-making this strange thing of a house—this angel and albatross. When rooms are to be patched and painted, I move things from one to the other. Again and again. I give things away: Kathy’s clothing, her stuffed ani-

‘Grandma’s Favorite Pair Of Glasses’

‘Sciencenter Stargazer’

‘Future Bookworm’

A child’s natural curiosity to explore the world around them expresses itself in many forms and, if encouraged, becomes a lifelong habit (Photos by Frank Kelly) Th e

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essay

Untitled By Kimbe rly Ke nyon

y father and sister died within three months of each other. My brother was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer a year later and died after five years of fighting it. “Loss is part of life”, is easier to write than live with and living with a heavy heart made it hard to breathe after my sister and brother died. In my father’s case he had fulfilled many of his dreams and his passing was hard but not nearly as rough as the loss of my siblings. My sister died of a brain aneurism leaving behind two teenage sons and my brother-in-law. My sister and her husband had been living in different states due to business obligations. My brother fought long and hard, living on experimental drugs that sapped his strength and made him feel awful. He did his very best to remain present and loving for his five sons, wife, and family in the face of illness,

pain and fear. The loss of my sister was sudden and shocking. Her older son found her on the floor in her bedroom. She was supposed to be at a flea market with friends. He was heading out of town for work and called her to say goodbye. When he heard her phone ring in the house he ran upstairs and found her on the floor. My sister had had a stroke as a result on an aneurism. She was initially in a coma then she suffered another bleed into her brain and she lost all brain function. In her last few days we sat with her and talked with her, held her hand, told her stories, sang her songs, kissed her, massaged her and hoped that she felt, heard or sensed our love. My brother-in-law graciously decided to take her off life support. We were all numb, in shock and reeling. I went home and read. Read about death, read about the stages of

Holiday GreetinGs from

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radiation it took another year for him to grief, read about how the loss of a pardie. Watching cancer eat someone is awent will impact you over and over when those important life moments you would ful. Being the person trapped by the cancer is, I am sure, immeasurably worse. I share with them if they were alive take admire him, and all who fight, in the face place. Graduation, marriage, births, of death. I saw his calmness and strength new careers. Death. Changes. I used the tools I use in my life to try to understand and I draw from memories of it when I miss him most. things in the world to try to understand A good friend who had lost her hushow much pain I, and my family, her band helped me to put things in perfamily, was in. One thing that initially spective by sharing how she used the struck me as possible has proven to be metaphor of true. Time does life as a series help. I won’t I don’t know if you have ever of hills and say it heals s e e n t h e m o v i e , M a d e i n valleys to reyour heart. I Heaven, but I long for the plot member the will say more to be true. When we die we are good when time puts reunited with those who have things in life things in perdied before us. All we need to happened that spective. Life do is think of them and they she wasn’t goes on. They are there with us. I have no prepared for. won’t come desire to leave this life before Sometimes we back. We have my time but I wish that when I may be on top to choose to die I am able to see them and be of a mounmove forward with them again. If only in the tain filled with without them. moment before I fade away. joy and other I dream at I hope my spirit can travel to times we may times I am with where they are. be plunged my brother and into a valley of we are talkdespair. When ing about his kids. He loved them so and he was such a faced with the mountains and valleys life can present us with what path do you great father, brother, friend. His boys all choose to go down when the depths of tower over me as he did. They hug hard the valley feel like they will absorb and and well. They are not yet married nor consume you?These traumatic losses are any of them fathers. I often wish he created rifts in my family, chasms that had created time capsules or videos or were hard to mend and I realized how letters for his sons and for us. I see him in my mind’s eye healthy, smiling, strong ill prepared we were to deal with their but what happened to him at the end was deaths. People have different responses to loss. Compartmentalized grief. Use a testament to the depth of his strength. His focus was always on his family first. of circumstances or substances to numb pain. Reaching out to communities, One day my brother was telling me his back had been hurting him and I was im- friends or faith. Anger. While we know death awaits us all we cannot know our ploring him to get over being stubborn responses to loss until we are immersed and go to the doctor. He finally went. in its impact. His initial diagnosis was polycystic kidMy seven nephews ranged in age ney disease. We looked it up online and when their parents died. Some were in found out that ten percent of those with this present with brain aneurism and elementary school, some in high school there was a fifty-fifty chance that my sib- and some just starting college. I don’t lings from my Dad’s first marriage could get to see my nephews that much but when I visit with them I see my sibalso have it. Their mother had died from lings in their actions. I hear their voices a brain aneurism too. Turned out the kidney disease was not the issue rather it in their words. Sitting in my sister-inlaw’s house one night my nephew’s laugh was stage four colon cancer. My brother from the room next door made goose was fortunate to have a wonderful wife, bumps run up my arm. It was my brothgood health care, great doctors and a lot er’s laugh that I heard. When I told my of support from family and friends. It didn’t change how horrible the treatment nephew how much he sounded like his Dad we both smiled and teared up. Being was that kept him with us. Eventually able to share with the boys, now men and it stopped working and he said enough “man cubs”, stories about their parents is enough. After he stopped chemo and

growing up, their opinions on things, their mannerisms, habits and behaviors helps me to surface wonderful memories. I now know that sharing the memories of my siblings and Dad has helped me to process the pain of their loss. I wish my siblings could see their children. It is hard to fulfill the desire to communicate with them about their sons and how their influences have shaped who they are today. I hope that my sister can see how her sons are raising their stepchildren with the same humor, gentleness and patience she and her husband raised them with. I imagine that she and my brother can see how much my great niece looks exactly like her and my brother. They were the blondes in our family and this three-year old sports their golden curls, wide smiles and sweet dispositions. I have known few people in the world as kind, unselfish, and supportive as my brother and few as loving, funny and caring as my sister. I do recognize my bias. As we enter into this season if you know of someone who has lost someone know that this season may be one in which we recall those we have lost more so than others. If we gather with our families, we miss their presence with us. If we no longer gather due to moves,

rifts, money, time or energy we may still replay old times in our heads like movies. These can be terrific memories that take us back to moments in which we still had them here. We may laugh out loud at the year we stood back and threw tinsel at the Christmas tree. And those memories can also rip into our hearts and make it hard to breathe. Make us blink back tears. When we recall how they are no longer here. How great big holes are left when they once were part of our world. People respond differently to death. If you compartmentalize your grief and have put it behind you try to remember that death rips into us all. Differently perhaps but it still is a force. I don’t know if you have ever seen the movie, Made in Heaven, but I long for the plot to be true. When we die we are reunited with those who have died before us. All we need to do is think of them and they are there with us. I have no desire to leave this life before my time but I wish that when I die I am able to see them and be with them again. If only in the moment before I fade away. I hope my spirit can travel to where they are.

Out In West Dryden By Ju dith P ie r pont

Now it is Yule - time for gifts and good cheer. We don’t want more gas! Please, no pipeline here! ‘Twould be a mean gift, worse than no gift at all: Our pledge to cut carbon this pipeline would stall. CO2’s very bad, but methane’s far worse In heating the air and harming the earth. So don’t take our land by eminent domain To put in a pipe full of globe-warming methane. New gas is not smart! We’ll pay with regrets

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For the 17 million that become stranded assets. If this pipeline goes forward at NYSEG’s insistence, Be aware that your efforts will be met with resistance. NYSEG! Avangrid! Join us in unity. We want to become an energy smart community! To protect the earth’s future, we must all do our part; Pipeline alternatives are a great way to start! We must save our planet and we don’t have much time, So grow your heart quickly and nix the pipeline.

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Kintsugi By J he n a h Te ly n dr u THIS Is the only real moment This space This time The only truth there is; An island of omniscience And its surrounding, soft-focus sea. All there is to truly know Is Here Is Now Around us and within us. And in this space of clarity There is a perfection — A whole and holy understanding of Our inner cosmology. Of Two Becoming One Becoming None… And the great tragedy of it all Is that there are no boundaries here — Save those That we Bring with us. And so, We begin to believe in the divide. The scar tissue of our yesterdays Snaking their shiny colloidal pathways between us. Becoming the mote in our eye… The blade in our tongue… The veil that conceals What never needed to be A mystery. So how do we replace the tears of this river

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With a ribbon of gold? What is the alchemical formula That will birth us anew? That will render us, somehow, More precious… More pure… More beaut i f u l for hav i ng bei ng broken? In t he si lence bet ween pou nd i ng heartbeats In the rest between shaking, tentative breaths I remember that THIS Is the only real moment… And I can choose to make peace From these pieces Of too-delicate porcelain, And see the jagged places Not as flaws Or faults O r u ner r i ng v a l id at ion of e ver y accusation, But as the map that they are: The soul’s beauty road Which leads unerringly to this moment This eternal moment — Where there is space enough For Two To become One To become None… Jhenah Telyndru is the author of Avalon Within: A Sacred Journey of Myth, Mystery, and Inner Wisdom and contributing author to several anthologies.

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Nocturne By D on a Ke yote for Brenna and Torin, Mira and Grey Silently they arrive. I had never heard their song. As snow melted I watched the forest floor for signs of spring. The dog might flush one into flight. Then someone taught me when to listen how to see the sky dance. At dusk: Peent, peent… camouflaged feathers the colors of earth beat air into song lift it far above the trees beyond sight or sound. Faintly, a note a wind song of return suddenly descends rests on the singing ground. Nearby, as if aroused into life green spears of ramsons. They have borne spring here for aeons beneath their wings nations like dinosaurs disappear. My grandchildren learn to hear them find the singing ground guide my attention in the right direction. I pray timberdoodles always bring grandchildren spring.

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(Photos: Casey Martin) essay

My New Career By Me r r it t Wal k e r

always wanted to be a mechanic or a plumber, but due to my vision disability, I know that I could not be either. Recently, while watching Chef Ramsay on the show Hell’s Kitchen, I knew that I wanted to be a chef. At the age of 52, I discovered that I like to cook. I can cook the basic dishes but someday I would like to prepare and cook the cuisine that is served at a five star restaurant. I would also like to know how to make the fancy desserts as well. I chose to become a chef because I have a vision disability. Being a cook would not put as much of a strain on my vision like a mechanic or plumber would. There are many tools out there to help people with vision problems. I could also get the recipes enlarged and most chopping is done

by feel rather than sight. For a long time I have watched several cooking shows on the Food Network. Cooks like Chef Ramsay, Bobby Flay and Emeril Lagasse have been my inspiration. A lot goes into cooking like experience, desire and love. I believe that’s what makes a good chef. I love to cook and eat, but most of all I like to cook for others. Seeing them enjoy what I made gives me an uplifting feeling. That is the reason why I would like to accomplish my high school degree so that I could go to Culinary School to make all the upscale dishes—and the desserts, too. Below is a poem I wrote about my love of cooking.

I L ik e To Cook

I like to cook, So bring out the pots and pans And all the utensils.

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I like to cook So pull out the recipes Dishes like lasagna Meatballs and spaghetti And stuffed shells. I like to cook So bring out the plates, forks and knives I like to cook. Note: I have given permission to my tutor Janet Steiner to submit this essay to the Ithaca Times Reader’s Write issue since it is on the subject of Aspirations. Signed Merritt Walker

ITDEC2016 2.4x11_2.4x5.5IT 11/16/16 5:20 PM Page

(Photos: Casey Martin) essay

My First Student By Jane t Ste ine r

y very first tutoring experience was with a young fourteen year old boy who was reading at a third-fourth grade level. He was a spectacular example of a failed educational system, compounded by poverty, and now incarcerated in a residential facility in upstate New York. Roberto (not his real name) admitted that he had difficulty reading; when he was offered a tutor, he said he was ready. One point for Roberto—he was motivated. He was also bilingual, able to speak in both English and Spanish. One more point for Roberto—many Americans can barely manage one language. We met for an hour, twice a week, for twelve weeks. Where to start? Sports, I supposed. While more interested in soccer than the New York Yankees, he listened patiently while I talked about the greatest baseball closer of all, Mariano Rivera. And from this simple start, he and I read stories from newspapers, magazines and books about: Panama, Mexico, soccer, graffiti, street art, Guastavino, Manhattan, Central Park, Balto, Hispanic children and poverty, El Museo De Barrio, Diego Rivera at the MOMA, George Bellows, the solar system, the planet Earth. We liked Tomie DePaulo and Banksy, Siennese Art and the story of Juan Diego and the Virgin of Guadalupe. When you are teaching reading, the subject matter can be anything. I was completely free to not only devise my own teaching methodology, but to also find topics that interested both of us. From the public library, I borrowed a Nook and he listened to Rudyard Kipling’s

How the Elephant Got His Nose. When we read a story about a subway hero who saved a young man’s life by lying on top of him while the train went over them, Roberto said, “That’s crazy.” It was his favorite phrase when we read about true stories that were unbelievable. Roberto needed to know his place in the universe. How far is it from New York to Mexico? How long does it take to go around the world? How many continents are there? He was unable to name or locate even a handful of states, so we used a wooden puzzle to sort out the Southern states from the New England states, the West from the Midwest. We used an inflatable globe so we could talk about the earth revolving and rotating at the same time—and why gravity keeps us from being flung into space. He recognized that all of us humans are “just like ants” when seen from outer space. His favorite planet turned out to be Jupiter; the Blue Marble image taken by the astronauts in 1972 was taped into his notebook. I brought in a map of his hometown. While Henry Hudson may have sailed by this place, for Roberto, the first thing he spotted on the city map was the park where he had been stabbed. My heart felt heavy that day as I realized what a long journey Roberto had been on and how far he had to go before he achieved his goal of being the first in his large family to graduate from college. Roberto was efficient in his use of a dictionary and thesaurus, but his ability to “decode” multi-syllable words was his biggest challenge. We spent time practicing prefixes, suffixes and breaking words

into manageable syllables. Using resources from the Tompkins Learning Partners, and the Tompkins County Public Library, Roberto practiced phonics, decoding, and reading. It was very hard work for him and he often fatigued midway through our session. That’s when I read to him—something that may have been missing in his life. Being read to, listening to a story, hearing the words flow together is an important part of literacy. This, I loved. By the end of our time together, I noticed an appreciable difference in his fluency. He no longer froze or guessed when confronted with “big” words, and began to read with some expression. While he stumbled over words that he had never been exposed to before (ancient, pudgy, ridged, plover, unicorn), he managed to figure out “magnificent”, “constellation”, “arrangement”, using his new skills of breaking words into manageable parts. Tutors whose students are incarcerated are discouraged, if not prohibited, from keeping in touch with their students once they are released, so it will be impossible to say how Roberto’s life turns out. He will be facing huge societal challenges, educational deficiencies and a history of being in the juvenile criminal justice system. He needs a tutor every day, someone who can help him get him to where he needs to be. I told him that if he remembers nothing else that we did, always remember that he can get a free library card when he gets home and keep on reading, learning, and exploring. I will always wonder what happened to my “first” student. Th e

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HAPPYHOLIDAZE!

4367 E. Covert Road • Interlaken, NY 14847 Winery: 607.387.6801 • Café: 607.387.6804 Winery & Taproom Open 7 days a week Crystal Lake Café open Thursday-Sunday

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two wacky friends of two opera singers help them achieve success while humiliating their stuffy and snobbish enemies. | 96 min NR | cinemapolis

Friday, 12/30 to Thursday, 1/05. Contact Cinemapolis for Showtimes

Music bars/clubs/cafés

12/28 Wednesday

12/29 Thursday

Driftwood, Tenzin Chopak | 7:00 PM | The Haunt, 702 Willow Ave, Ithaca | Americana, Folk, Bluegrass, Old-Time, Roots, Punk, Rock. Open Funk Jam with the Fall Creek Brass Band | 7:30 PM-10:30 PM | The Range, Ithaca Commons, 119 E State St, Ithaca | Bring your instrument and play along with members of the Fall Creek Brass Band as they play standard New Orleans funk tunes and favorites from Stevie Wonder, James Brown, Herbie Hancock, and more. Shakedown @ Polaris | 8:00 PM | Casia Del Polaris, 1201 N Tioga St Unit 2 Ithaca | Grateful Dead throwdown. Steep, Ruha | 9:00 PM | Funk ‘n Waffles, 727 S Crouse Ave Ste 8, Syracuse | Progressive Rock.

12/30 Friday

Classic Rock, Rock, Blues. Lespecial, Ampevene | 9:30 PM | Funk ‘n Waffles, 727 S Crouse Ave Ste 8, Syracuse | Dark Future Groove, Progressive Rock, Glitch, Rock.

12/31 Saturday

1/01 Sunday

Vocal Jazz Jam hosted by Diana Leigh & Jesse Collins | 4:00 PM-7:00 PM | The Range, 119 E. State St, Ithaca | Jazz. Instrumentalists Welcome.

1/02 Monday

Dead Night with Pearly Baker’s Best | 9:00 PM | Funk ‘n Waffles, 727 S Crouse Ave Ste 8, Syracuse | Grateful Dead Tribute, Rock, Blues, Funk, Progressive Rock, Jam.

1/03 Tuesday

The Hilltoppers | 6:00 PM-10:00 PM | Maxie’s Supper Club & Oyster Bar,

12/31 NEW YEARS EVE WITH THE DESTINATION 1/19 DAVINA & THE VAGABONDS 3/11 MATT ANDERSEN 4/15 CHRIS SMITHER THE DOCK MANY MORE SHOWS NOT LISTED HERE! STAY UP-TO-DATE AT DSPSHOWS.COM

12/29 DRIFTWOOD (SHOW #1) W/TENZIN CHOPAK 12/30 DRIFTWOOD (SHOW #2) W/BLIND OWL BAND 1/21 JOHN BROWN’S BODY W/ THE ANALOGUE SONS 1/22 THE MARCUS KING BAND THE HAUNT

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2017

Lion | The Eagle Huntress follows AisholpA five-year-old Indian boy gets lost on the streets of Calcutta, thousands of kilometers from home. He survives many challenges before being adopted by a couple in Australia; 25 years later, he sets out to find his lost family | 118 mins PG-13 | The Eagle Huntress | The Eagle Huntress follows Aisholpan, a

137 mins R | Loving | Richard and Mildred Loving, an interracial couple, are sentenced to prison in Virginia in 1958 for getting married. | 123 mins PG-13 |

Moonlight | A timeless story of human connection and self-discovery, Moonlight chronicles the life of a young black man from childhood to adulthood as he struggles to find his place in the world while growing up in a rough neighborhood of Miami. | 111 mins R | Regal Cinemas

Wednesday, 12/28 to Tuesday, 1/03. Contact Regal Ithaca for Showtimes

concerts

12/28 Wednesday

Rusted Root, Boogie Low | 8:00 PM | Westcott Theatre, 524 Westcott St, Syracuse | Rock, Roots Rock, Fusion, Groove.

12/30 Friday

Driftwood are a unique Americana, folk and bluegrass hybrid from Binghamton, NY, with a deft understanding of the importance of space. Their new album “City Lights” is an absolute gem filled with varying styles and dense songwriting. The band is busy this New Year’s weekend with two shows at The Haunt, Thursday, 12/29 and Friday, 12/30, and then on New Year’s Eve at the Ransom Steele Tavern. Catch em all three nights if you can! (Photo provided)

12/31 Saturday

13-year-old girl, as she trains to become the first female in twelve generations of her Kazakh family to become an eagle hunter. | 87 mins G |

Tribute to Notorious B.I.G. with Joe Driscoll | 9:00 PM | Funk ‘n Waffles, 727 S Crouse Ave Ste 8, Syracuse | Rap, Hip Hop.

Film Classic Film Tuesday: A Night at the Opera | 1:00 PM, 1/03 Tuesday | Auburn Public Theater, 8 Exchange St, Auburn | A sly business manager and

Jackie | Following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy fights through grief and trauma to regain her faith, console her children, and define her husband’s historic legacy. | 100 mins R | Manchester by the Sea | An uncle is forced to take care of his teenage nephew after the boy’s father dies. |

BRANFORD MARSALIS W/ KURT ELLING

HASAN MINHAJ NEW ONE MAN STAR WARS DATE! GET THE LED OUT

LYLE LOVETT & JOHN HIATT

Sing | A koala named Buster Moon has one final chance to restore his theater to its former glory by producing the world’s greatest singing competition. | 108 mins PG | Assassin’s Creed | When Callum Lynch explores the memories of his ancestor Aguilar and gains the skills of a Master Assassin, he discovers he is a descendant of the secret Assassins society. | 115 mins PG-13 | Dangal | Biographical sports drama on former wrestler Mahavir Singh Phogat and his two wrestler

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daughters’ struggle towards glory at the Commonwealth Games in the face of societal oppression. | 169 mins NR | Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them | The adventures of writer Newt Scamander in New York’s secret community of witches and wizards seventy years before Harry Potter reads his book in school. | 133 mins PG-13 | Nocturnal Animals | An art gallery owner is haunted by her ex-husband’s novel, a violent thriller she interprets as a veiled threat and a symbolic revenge tale. | 116 mins R | Rogue One: A Star Wars Story | The Rebellion makes a risky move to steal the plans for the Death Star, setting up the epic saga to follow. The first stand alone Star Wars film promises to be a whirlwind. | 133 mins PG-13 | Passengers | A spacecraft traveling to a distant colony planet and transporting thousands of people has a malfunction in its sleep chambers. As a result, two passengers are awakened 90 years early. | 116 mins PG-13 | Moana | In Ancient Polynesia, when a terrible curse incurred by Maui reaches an impetuous Chieftain’s daughter’s island, she answers the Ocean’s call to seek out the demigod to set things right. | 107 mins PG |

Stage Abduction from the Seraglio: New Year’s Eve Gala | 9:00 PM, 12/31 Saturday | Kitchen Theatre, 417 W State St, Ithaca | Ringing in the New Year in Ithaca as the Kitchen Theatre present their second annual New Year’s Eve Gala to include Mozart’s virtuosic comic opera.

Notices Community HU Song: New York SatSang Society | 7:00 PM-7:30 PM, 12/29 Thursday | Tompkins County Public Library, 101 E Green St, Ithaca | Community HU Song in a friendly group setting will sing HU for twenty minutes for all people of all faiths cultures and religions. Open Meditation | 10:30 AM-12:00 PM, 1/01 Sunday | Foundation of Light, 391 Turkey Hill Rd, Ithaca | All are welcome to meditate according to their own practice. Class begins with 20 minutes of silent meditation, after which everyone reads and discuss

related texts. Class ends with 15 or 20 minutes of silent or guided meditation. Beginners are welcome and instruction in basic meditation will be provided. For more information, email Lynne at ltaetzsch@gmail.com or call her at 607-273-1364. (CHEW) Circle for Healthy Eating and Wellness | 6:00 PM-7:30 PM, 1/03 Tuesday | Just Be Cause Center, 1013 W State St, Ithaca | CHEW is a peer support group for people in recovery from eating disorders. 1st and 3rd Tuesdays at Just Be Cause, 6 - 7:30 p.m. Contact Amy or Sabrina at CHEWIthaca@gmail.com.

Learning Kenneth McLaurin Jr. | 6:30 PM, 12/29 Thursday | Ulysses Philomathic Library, 74 E Main St, Trumansburg | Host Kenneth McLaurin Jr. from the Cornell Cooperative Extension wil give a free class on financial management education. Raj Yoga Meditation Class with Amita Shukla | 10:00 AM-11:00 AM, 1/03 Tuesday | Foundation of Light, 391 Turkey Hill Rd, Ithaca | Raj Yoga meditation is a form of meditation that is accessible to people of all backgrounds. It is a meditation without rituals or mantras and can be practiced anywhere at any time. Homebuyer U (Homebuyer education class) | 6:30 PM-8:30 PM, 1/03 Tuesday | Ithaca NHS, 115 W Clinton St, Ithaca | Buying a home is a huge investment and is one of the best ways to build wealth. If you are interested in buying a home but don’t know where to start, the Homebuyer Class at Ithaca NHS can help. For more information email hbe@ithacanhs.org or visit www.ithacanhs.orgarea.

Special Events Hanukkah Celebration with Chabad | 5:00 PM-6:00 PM, 12/29 Thursday | The Shops At Ithaca Mall, , Ithaca | Join Chabad to celebrate Hanukkah with a public menorah lighting, children’s entertainer, donuts, prizes, menorah give-aways, and more. (Located at the food court area of Ithaca Mall). Fuertes Observatory Holiday Family Astronomy Nights | 5:30 PM-9:30 PM, 12/30 Friday | Fuertes Observatory, 219 Cradit Farm Dr.,

Cornell University, Ithaca | See planets, galaxies, and star clusters! If cloudy, the observatory will be open until 7:30pm for tours of the historic 94-year-old telescope, museum, and photo ops. Parking across the street in the Appel Commons lot. (607) 255-3557 for a recorded message; for more info visit: cornellastrosociety.org Labyrinth Meditation: Walk a Path of Prayer | 7:00 PM-9:00 PM, 12/30 Friday, 7:00 PM-9:00 PM, 12/31 Saturday, 10:00 AM-1:00 PM, 1/03 Tuesday | First Baptist Church, 309 N Cayuga St, Ithaca | This circular labyrinth modeled on the one set into the floor of the Chartres Cathedral in France (1194-1220 A.D.) will be open to people of all ages and faiths, handicapped accessible. There will be a brief service at 6:45p.m. on December 30th to dedicate this ancient sacred path. A labyrinth is unicursal. It is one path leading in and the same path going out. There are no choices except to start out on the path itself. It is a universal archetype, a divine imprint that can serve to quiet, restore, center and deepen one’s relationship to self, creation and the Creator. The Chartres labyrinth was used as a prayer practice and form of body meditation by those on pilgrimage. New Year’s Eve Dinner | 5:00 PM-10:00 PM, 12/31 Saturday | Aurora Inn, 391 Main St, Aurora | With bubbles and live jazz, ring in the New Year

enjoying the magic of Aurora. Plenty of champagne, our special four-course tasting menu, and great music set the stage for an intimate and romantic celebration of another terrific year. Raise a toast or two to good friends, family, and great health — and take the weekend to rejuvenate for the year ahead. New Year’s Eve Pre-Game Disco Party | 6:00 PM, 12/31 Saturday | Grist Iron Brewing, 4880 NY-414, Burdett | Costume Part, Dance Costume, Drink and Food Specials. New Year’s Eve Community Dance | 8:00 PM, 12/31 Saturday | Cortland Repertory Theatre, Dwyer Memorial Park Pavilion, Preble | Ring in the New Year at the best party in the area while dancing the night away to the greatest pop hits of all time! Plus, you can stay warm inside on a chilly New Year’s Eve and then have a front row seat to the Midnight Main Street Clock Tower ball drop and fireworks. Tioga Downs Casino New Year’s Eve Celebration | 9:00 PM, 12/31 Saturday | Tioga Downs, 2384 W River Rd, Nichols | Featuring Virgil’s Real BBQ, music by Virgil Cain, Devon Franks, and Travis Rocco, Cash prizes every 30 minutes, the $2017 Cash Hot Seat, and more. Audubon Society’s Christmas Bird Count | All Daym 1/01 Sunday | The Cayuga Bird Club will hold its 54th annual Christmas Count. This will be

the 117th consecutive year of the survey sponsored by the National Audubon Society. Ithaca is one of the most enthusiastic of over 2100 groups reporting nationwide, and has a high number of participants usually the largest group in New York State and among the top 12 in the country. Ithaca’s teams will fan out in a 15-mile-diameter circle, 177 square miles, that includes downtown Ithaca and portions of Lansing, Dryden, Freeville, Danby, Brooktondale, Cayuga Heights and up the west side of Cayuga Lake. For information or to volunteer, check our club web site at www. cayugabirdclub.org or call Jody at 319-4216. Annual Ithaca Chill Challenge | 1:00 PM-, 1/01 Sunday | Ithaca Yacht Club, 1090 Glenwood Rd, Ithaca | Annual fundraising event for Ithaca Community Recovery. Challenge is similar to a Polar Bear Plunge, but with a twist.

Art

CSMA | 330 E State St, Ithaca | Annual Open Show | Curated by acclaimed painter Joyce Stillman-Myers, CSMA’s Open Show presents work in a variety media by more than 50 local artists. Representing traditional to contemporary styles, this much-anticipated show celebrates the vibrant and diverse visual arts interests of our community. State of the Art | 120 W State St Ste 2, Ithaca | December Juried Show: Featuring the work of nearly 50 artists from the Fingerlakes region and beyond. Oil, acrylic, pastels, charcoal, watercolor, mixed media sculpture, interactive sculpture, mosaics with ceramic, stone and glass tiles, linocut, dyed silk painting, computer generated collage, and digital drawing. www. soagithaca.org TCPL | 101 E Green St, Ithaca | On Being Human: A complimentary, multi-media exhibit, to TCPL’s Exploring Human Origins: What Does It Mean To Be Human, traveling exhibit of the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History and the American Library Association.

ongoing Cellar d’Or | 136 The Commons, Ithaca | Group Show: Featuring: Gabe Carraher, Chris Charles, Michael Goscinsky, Ivy Stevens-Gupta, Kathy Morris, Andrew Paine, Rachel Philipson, Michael Sampson, and Sheryl Sinkow.

Send your events items – band gigs, benefits, meet-ups, whatever – to arts@ithacatimes.com.

Pete Panek and The Blue Cats,

First Bapist Church, Ithaca Friday, Dec .30 through Tuesday, Jan. 3

Silve Line Tap Room, Saturday, December 31, 7:00 p.m.

Walk a “Path of Prayer” into the New Year on this intense circular labyrinth based on the design of the floor of France’s Chartes Cathedral (1194-1220 A.D.). The space will be open to everyone in the community and beyond, including people of all ages and faiths. The labyrinth will be open from 7 to 9 p.m. on December 30 and 31, and from 2 to 4 p.m. on January 1. The labyrinth acts as a metaphor and as a physical means of expression for prayer and meditation.

Pete Panek and the Blue Cats have been ripping up the local scene for decades now here in Ithaca, forging deep and burly Chicago Blues with a unique and personal sensibility. Panek’s been a fixture in just about every music venue in town and seeing his band tear up the blues and rock out on a New Year’s is in an unforgettable experience. It takes determination and grit to stay the course with the blues and Panek’s the best in town. Don’t miss out!

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Town & Country

Classifieds

In Print

On Line |

10 Newspapers

277-7000 Phone: Mon.-Fri. 9am-5pm Fax: 277-1012 (24 Hrs Daily)

Special Rates:

Line Ads: $18.50 for first 12 words (minimum), 30 cents each additional word. 25% Discount - Run your non-commercial ad for 4 consecutive weeks, you only pay for 3 (Adoption, Merchandise or Housemates)

Headlines: 9-point headlines (use up to 16 characters) $2.00 per line. If bold type, centered or unusually spaced type, borders in ad, or logos in ads are requested, the ad will be charged at the display classified advertising rate. Call 277-7000 for rate information.

Internet: www.ithaca.com Mail: Ithaca Times Classified Dept PO Box 27 Ithaca NY 14850 In Person: Mon.-Fri. 9am-5pm 109 North Cayuga Street

Free Ads: Lost and Found and free items run at no charge for up to 3 weeks. Merchandise for Sale, private party only. Price must be under $100 and stated in ad

MERCHANDISE UNDER $100

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buy sell

430/General

iPAD PRO 9.7

32G, $420/OBO. APPLECARE Transferable, ZAGG Cover/Keyboard. ALL PERFECT! 607-272-3087

140/Cars Donate your car to Wheels For Wishes, benefiting Make-A-Wish. We offer free towing and your donation is 100% tax deductible. Call:315-400-0797 Today! (NYSCAN)

SAWMILLS from only $4397.00 - MAKE & SAVE MONEY with your own bandmillcut lumber any dimension. In stock ready to ship. FREE Info /DVD: www. NorwoodSawmills.com 1-800-578-1363 Ext. 300N (NYSCAN)

Snow Blower Cab + Futon Mattress

Steinway 1098

250/Merchandise Champion Inversion Table

Great Condition. Asking: $85.00 Call Bonnie @ 277-3032

320/Bulletin Board MAKE THE CALL TO START GETTING CLEAN TODAY

Free 24/7 Helpline for alcohol & drug addiction treatment. Get Help! It is time to take your life back! Call Now: 855732-4139 (AAN CAN)

Authorized Dealer:

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Complete rebuilding services. No job too big or too small. Call us.

(607) 272-6547 950 Danby Rd., Suite 26

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FOUND antiques • vintage • unusual objects

Explore the Unexpected

Start Here - Get trained as FAA Certified Aviation Technician. Financial aid for qualified students. Job placement assistance. Call AIM for free information 866-296-7093. (NYSCAN)

227 Cherry St. 607-319-5078 foundinithaca.com Open Daily 10-6, except Tues.

DONATE YOUR CAR

Wheels For Wishes Benefiting

New, Used, Vintage Stringed Instruments, Amps & Accessories.

Trade Ins • Layaway • Repairs

Ithaca Piano Rebuilders South Hill Business Campus, Ithaca, NY

Institute of Maintenance 800-725-1563

AIRLINE CAREERS

YOUR GEAR IS HERE!

• Rebuilt • Reconditioned • Bought• Sold • Moved • Tuned • Rented

placement assistance. Call Aviation

410/Business Opportunity

COLLECTABLES

CASH BUYER, Old Comic Books 10c to 35c covers, also Guns, Gold Coins. I travel to you and Buy EVERYTHING You have! Call Brian 1-800-617-3551 (NYSCAN)

begin here - Get started by training Financial aid for qualified students. Job

Be your own boss. Flexible hours. Unlimited earning potential. Must be 21 with valid U.S. driver’s license, insurance & reliable vehicle. 866-329-2672 (AAN CAN)

Studio Upright, lovely case and action. $7500. 607-256-4287

AIRLINE CAREERS as FAA certified Aviation Technician.

LOCAL DRIVERS WANTED

Snow cab for Troy-Bilt Snow Blower $25.00 8” Queen Futon mattress REAL good condition $50.00/obo 387-9327

200/Buy / Sell / Trade

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272-2602

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Make-A-Wish® Central New York *Free Vehicle/Boat Pickup ANYWHERE *We Accept All Vehicles Running or Not *Fully Tax Deductible

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* Car Donation Foundation d/b/a Wheels For Wishes. To learn more about our programs or financial information, visit www.wheelsforwishes.org.

28–Ja n u a r y

2017

You Can PL Your ads O ACE N at Ithaca.c LINE om

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19. 25 words

SERVICE DIRECTORY

per week / 13 week minimum

Teaching a s s i s Ta n TinTerpreTer

OCM BOCES has the need for a Teaching Assistant-Interpreter at the Deaf and Hard of Hearing program in the Solvay School District. Successful candidates will provide interpreting services. Bachelor’s degree or NYS Teacher certification OR Associates degree or NYS certification as a Teaching Assistant. Experience working with deaf/hard of hearing students preferred. Applications accepted online only. Register and apply by 1/5/17 at: www.olasjobs.org/central. For more information visit our website at: www.ocmboces.org EOE

S pa n iSh Tea c h e r OCM BOCES has a need for a Spanish Teacher for 9th-12th graders at the Innovation Tech in Liverpool, NY. The successful candidate will create/maintain a student centered classroom that supports the principles of project-based learning and integration of curriculum, be flexible, resourceful and innovative while using data, feedback and reflective practice to drive instruction and facilitate student learning and connect with local businesses and community agencies to build partnerships that support student learning and internships. NYS certification in Secondary Spanish required. Experience with project-based learning is recommended and strong technology skills are a must. Applications accepted online only. Register and apply by 12/29/16 at: www.olasjobs.org/central. Visit our website at: www.ocmboces.org for more information. EOE

Town&Country

Classifieds In Print | On Line | 10 Newspapers | 59,200 Readers

277-7000 Phone: Mon.-Fri. 9am-5pm Fax: 277-1012 (24 Hrs Daily)

Internet: www.ithaca.com Mail: Ithaca Times Classified Dept PO Box 27 Ithaca NY 14850 In Person: Mon.-Fri. 9am-5pm 109 North Cayuga Street

employment

CAREGivers Wanted

The City of Ithaca

If you enjoy working with seniors, we want you! Join our team and become a Home Instead CAREGiver, providing non-medical companion and homehelper services to seniors in your community. Training, support and flexible shifts provided. No medical degree necessary. Competitive pay rate. Join us for a job that nurtures the soul! Apply online www.homeinstead.com/706 For more information call Britany Ward: 607-2697165. Each Home Instead Senior Care franchise office is independently owned and operated.

Community Development Planner (Housing) Ithaca The Ithaca Urban Renewal Agency seeks a Community Development Planner to develop a housing strategy to increase the supply of housing and manage the City’s HUD Entitlement Grant program. A Master’s Degree and at least 2 years of public sector work experience is preferred. Go to IthacaURA.org for more information

is accepting applications for the following openings: Motor Equipment Mechanic: Currently there is one vacancy in the Department of Public Works. Workweek: Mon-Fri 3:00pm-1:30am. Min Quals & Spec Reqs: visit website. Salary: $19.26/ hour. Application Deadline: 1/20/17. City of Ithaca HR Dept., 108 E. Green St., Ithaca, NY 14850 (607)274-6539 www. cityofithaca.org The City of Ithaca is an equal opportunity employer that is committed to diversifying its workforce.

460/Sales / Marketing SALES

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6).9,

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Ithaca’s only

805/Business Services

hometown electrical distributor Your one Stop Shop

Ch 7 Bankruptcy only $900.00

Since 1984 802 W. Seneca St. Ithaca 607-272-1711 fax: 607-272-3102 www.fingerlakeselectric.com

Call Mark “The Hammer” Gugino 144 Bald Hill Road Ithaca 607-319-0766 Debt Relief Agency Attorney Advertising

520/Adoptions Wanted PREGNANT?

CONSIDERING ADOPTION? Call us first. Living Expenses, housing, medical, and continued support afterwards. Choose adoptive family of your choice. Call 24/7. 877-362-2401. (AAN CAN)

Four Seasons Landscaping Inc. 607.272.1504 Lawn maintenance, spring + fall clean up + gutter cleaning, patios, retaining walls, + walkways, landscape design + installation. Drainage. Snow Removal. Dumpster rentals. Find us on Facebook!

Non-toxic, sustainable housecleaner

gardener/all-around home supporter available. 2 biweekly 4-hour slots open. Great references. Email: gardenhelp74@ gmail.com

Are you a self starter, smart on your feet, Competitive, Outgoing, Personable and possess a strong work ethic? We may have the job you’ve been looking for! The Ithaca Times/Ithaca.com seeks a full time sales representative. Our reps identify needs and sell marketing solutions that include newspapers, online and niche products. Base, plus commission, Full benefits. Send resume and cover letter to Jbilinski@ithacatimes.com

T e acher – Special e d ucaT ion OCM BOCES has the need for a Fulltime Special Education Teacher located at the McEvoy Campus, Cortland, NY. Provide academic and career development and occupational studies instruction to students in grades 9-12 with emotional challenges in an 8:1:1 setting; write IEP goals; administer assessments as needed; write progress reports and notes; work as a member of a multidisciplinary team. NYS Students with Disabilities 7-12 certification required. Register and apply by 01/03/17 at: www.olasjobs.org/ central For more information, visit our website at: www.ocmboces.org. EOE

Romulus, NY 315-585-6050 or Toll Free at 866-585-6050

MASSENA MEMORIAL HOSPITAL is seeking a

F-T PHYSICAL THERAPIST

with a current NYS Physical Therapy License; and a F-T CROSS SECTIONAL IMAGING SUPERVISOR ARRT Certified in Radiology, CT and MRI, registered as Licensed Radiologic Technologist with New York State Department of Health, BLS required. NYS certification to perform IV contrast injections. We offer a competitive benefits package including retirement, health, dental and vision insurance along with vacation, holiday and sick time. Applications can be submitted on line at www.massenahospital.org, resumes can be e-mailed to

pgladding@massenahospital.org or faxed to (315)769-4344.

Entry Level Position at Franziska Racker Centers Available Near You!

Tea c h in g a s s is Ta n T s

Provide services for individuals with developmental disabilities in your area. Direct Support Professional openings in Ithaca and Owego. Community Support openings in the Candor, Waverly, Richford and Spencer areas.

OCM BOCES Special Education TEAM program has the need for a 96% Teaching Assistant to be located at Solvay Middle School. Successful candidates will provide programming for students with special needs under the direction of the special education teacher. NYS certification as a Teaching Assistant required and experience with children with multiple disabilities preferred. Applications accepted online only. Register and apply by 01/05/17 at: www.olasjobs. org/central. For more information, visit our website at: www.ocmboces.org EOE

Full time and part time schedules available. Starting pay is $11-$11.50/hour depending on experience. Benefits eligible at 27.5+ hours. Visit www.rackercenters.org/employment or call (607) 272-5891 ext 272 for more information!

Ithaca WebsIte DesIgn

Do you have a business? are you starting a business? Let Us help You!

We have been in business since 1980 specializing in streaming audio and video. Our team of experts can build you a website with features such as search engine optimization, tracking web site visitors, listing on Facebook. Check us out on www.ithacawebsitedesign.com Call us at 607-272-9175 we are open Monday to Friday 9am. to answer your questions. Th e

I t h a c a Ti m e s

D ecember

2 8 –Ja nua r y

3 ,

2 0 1 7

BackPage

For rates and information contact Cyndi Brong at

Independence Cleaners Corp

Protect Your Home

RESIDENTIAL & COMMERCIAL

with a Camera Surveillance System

cbrong @ ithactimes.com

Janitorial Service * Floor/Carpet

277-7000 p h o n e 277-1012 f a x

High Dusting * Windows/Awnings 24/7 CLEANING Services

Les - 607-272-9175

607-697-3294

4 Seasons

* BUYING RECORDS *

Landscaping Inc.

LPs 45s 78s ROCK JAZZ BLUES

Love dogs?

Honor a Life like no other

PUNK REGGAE ETC

Check out Cayuga Dog Rescue!

with ceremonies like no other.

Adopt! Foster! Volunteer! Donate for vet care!

Steve@reallifeceremonies.com

607-272-1504

Angry Mom Records

lawn maintenance

Real Life Ceremonies

www.cayugadogrescue.org

(Autumn Leaves Basement)

spring + fall clean up + gutter cleaning

www.facebook.com/CayugaDogRescue

319-4953 angrymomrecords@gmail.com

patios, retaining walls, + walkways landscape design + installation

Ashtanga * Vinyasa

for over 20 years

*Semester Pass $300

Fur & Leather repair, zipper repair.

*YA registered school * 200 hr TT

Basements, Barns, Garages & etc. snow removal

Same Day Service Available

Reliable and Affordable dumpster rentals

John’s Tailor Shop

Richard F. Vogt

Find us on Facebook!

John Serferlis - Tailor

Call 387-4190 water1945@live.com

102 The Commons 273-3192

AAM

Custom Cooking Classes

ALL ABOUT MACS

MAGIKITCHEN.NET

Macintosh Consulting

Put some Class in Your Kitchen

http://www.allaboutmacs.com

607-227-4624

Award-winning writer works with you to

FURNITURE & DECOR

craft a factual bio with charm and pathos

MIMI’S ATTIC

Free five-year update

430 W. State St. (607)882-9038 Open Every Day!

607-222-3166

Sunday, Jan. 1 * 12-2pm * all levels

at Sunrise Yoga

Sugg. $20 to Stand with Standing Rock

MIGHTY YOGA Visit www.mightyyoga.com 272-0682

Classical Yang style long form Tuesdays 7:30-8:30 pm

When the answer is

Anthony Fazio, LAc.,C.A,

MASSAGE the question is WHEN.

PeggyHaine.1@gmail.com

www.peacefulspiritacupuncture.com

It’s NOW. Book online.

HAVE THE LAST WORD!

607-272-0114

www.jollybuddha.us/massage

www.greenstar.coop We deﬁne local as products or services that are produced or owned within 100 miles of Ithaca.

www.yogaschoolithaca.com

A New Year’s Donation Yoga Class

like seitan from Susie’s Seitan

I thaca Time s

*Over 15 years experience

www.GuitarLessonsIthaca.com

This week at GreenStar we have 3,985 local products...

The

*Cooking & Tea Classes *Gentle Vinyasa

WE ARE THE CHANGE!

How will you be remembered? Buy, Sell & Consign Previously-enjoyed

*Yoga Philosophy * Ayurveda

Not Just Any Guitar Lesson

Peaceful Spirit TAI CHI classes

(607) 280-4729

The Yoga School

Men’s and Women’s Alterations “CLEAR IT OUT”

drainage

Latest Technology. Affordable

D e ce mb e r

28–Ja n u a r y

2017

LOCATED

1.7 miles

from GREENSTAR