The Big Read!

(Above: Rudolfo Anaya, author of classic coming-of-age novel, Bless Me Ultima.)

This month, people all across Baltimore have joined MPT and the Enoch Pratt Free Library to celebrate the power of words by reading Rudolfo Anaya’s classic coming-of-age novel Bless Me Ultima, part of the National Endowment for the Arts’ Big Read.

Reading Bless Me Ultima is more than just a "good thing to do," like eating your vegetables. This is a fascinating, exciting, sometimes funny, sometimes sad story of a young boy growing up in a small New Mexico village, and an extraordinary window into another world. Young Antonio Marez's quiet life is changed when his Aunt Ultima comes to live with his family. Ultima, with an owl in tow, is a curandera (a healer—what we might call a practitioner of herbal medicine), and helps to teach Antonio about life and many of her secrets on his path to adulthood.

For all the differences between our world and Antonio’s, as I read, I found myself identifying with him and the conflict between his father's wild vaquero (cowboy) brothers and his mother's more sedate farming relatives. I’m sure others will also see themselves in him as he wrestles with his parents' conflicting expectations, as well as the tensions between Hispanic and mainstream American culture in his village.

For younger readers, MPT and the Pratt are also sponsoring a “Little Read,” with Anaya’s picture book The First Tortilla—the story of Jade, a young village girl who is told by a blue hummingbird to take a gift to the Mountain Spirit to bring much-needed rain to her small Mexican village. This heartwarming story is prefect for parents to read along with their children, and help bring them into the excitement of the Big Read.

Book discussions and programs focusing on Bless Me Ultima and The First Tortilla are being held throughout the month of May at libraries and recreation centers around the city. Come check us out!


Poet and librarian Reginald Harris (reggieh.blogspot.com) has received Individual Artist Awards for both poetry and fiction from the Maryland State Arts Council. He is Help Desk and Training Manager for the Enoch Pratt Free Library in Baltimore.

The cooler gig

My former roommate and I are both screenwriting majors at Drexel University, released from academic purgatory for six months to get an internship in our field so we can appreciate just how good we’ve got it (I’m reasonably certain that’s not how Drexel advertises its co-op program, but after a four straight terms of classes, that’s definitely how I feel). My roommate is spending her six months in Ireland, working her butt off amid rolling fields of green, quaint little pubs and surrounded by that wonderful Irish accent that she imitates so beautifully. I’m back home, working at MPT and remembering why my brother and I get along best when I’m two hours away. There are fields of green, yes, and there’s probably a cute little pub or two somewhere, but pretty much everyone here has the same accent I do—no imitation required.

Still, all of our friends agree: I got the cooler internship.

I’m working on MPT’s documentary: Maryland Generations: Jewish Americans. Being raised Catholic, there’s a certain irony to this, but I’ve loved history all my life, and this has been a chance to not only learn history that’s new to me, but to really connect it with the places I know. I grew up in Roland Park, known back in the day for the “no Jew” clauses in the deeds to its houses. I even talked to my dad about it, and he said yup, that clause was in the deed for our old house, along with a little note saying that the clause was unconstitutional. When I asked why the offending clause wasn’t just removed, he said: “Another clause said it couldn’t be removed.” The law is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?

But the history bit is just a perk, like those “buy $50 or more worth of merchandise and get a cute little stuffed dog FREE!” promotions stores do. Even on a completely different project, one that had absolutely nothing to do with my interests (although that’d be pretty hard, considering I’m interested in pretty much everything MPT does), I’d have the best internship ever.

MPT uses its interns. Seriously uses its interns. You don’t just answer phones, take messages or take dictation of a script. In my first two weeks working here, I’ve researched Maryland’s history, met state politicians and leaders of international Jewish organizations, gone out on shoots and learned a little bit about camerawork. I’ve looked for visuals to put into the show, read through interview transcriptions and picked out sound bites to use. I’ve written outlines for the first two segments, highlighting the information we should cover and the sound bites I like best. My boss/producer actively seeks out and trusts my input. In those two weeks alone, I’ve utilized almost all the skills I’ve learned in school, and picked up some new ones. And everyone here, whether you work closely with them or just occasionally walk by their office, cares about you and what you’re doing. They must drug the water or something; you don’t get people this nice in Philadelphia.

So if you’re an undergrad (or grad student) interested in television, in Maryland, just want something more to do with your time—consider an internship at MPT. It’s a lot of fun.

Also?

We have a koi pond. Last I checked, my roommate’s place of employment doesn’t have one of those. They just make her sit in on boring seminars.

I definitely got the cooler gig.


Katie Nolan
Content Enterprises Intern

Sea of Fog

As much as I’ve been waiting and working towards it for four years now, I really can’t believe I’m graduating college in three weeks. I’ve got some ideas about where I’m headed, but mostly I feel like I’m groping along in the dark.

There’s this picture (above) I really like to look at now and then, Caspar David Friedrich’s “Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog.” Even though Friedrich painted it in 1818, I feel drawn to it some near 200 years later. Don’t get me wrong—for me, time is melting away faster than desert clocks in a Dali painting, but this whole sense of temporarily rising above the fold, taking a minute to reflect and then heading back down into a sea of chaos pretty much sums up my whole experience right now.

I’m going to get all dressed up, put on a gown (I’d really prefer it if they called it a robe, because that would make me feel like a king or a wizard or Hugh Hefner), have my named called and hear (hopefully) a bunch of people applaud. And then I go back into the Sea of Fog, obscurity—as Hunter S. Thompson put it, “straight into frantic oblivion . . . just another freak in the freak kingdom.”

It’s now time to make something of myself, though I’m not sure what that is going to be. I’ve always been successful, from the time the guidance counselor pulled me out of the third grade to do all these IQ tests and told me I was “gifted” to just last Friday when I was given a “certificate of excellence” by my college, but I’ve never felt quite content. And that’s probably because I’ve never quite found an enterprise that I could feel comfortable entirely devoting myself towards.

My time spent here at MPT has helped me meditate on just where to funnel my abilities. As someone who enjoys the arts, I am glad to see there are organizations out there who are trying to still support them in an age where dollar signs and immediate gratification are requisite for successful business. I spent a lot of time outdoors as a kid in the foothills of Appalachia up in Pennsylvania, so I’m especially glad to see there are organizations like MPT that are working to preserve the Chesapeake Bay.

And perhaps it’s because I have always been more than a little suspicious of change that preserving such institutions appeal to me. But, as much as I want to fight it, change is inevitable as the sun rise. So with the knowledge that there just might be some organization, some cause out there, that I can really buy into and believe in, I’ve got a little hope about things.

And now I’ve got to get on out there.

Thank you, MPT. You’ve been great.


Kevin Sunday
Communications Intern

Go Navy!

Go Navy! I want to shout this every day since I have a son who’s a Navy pilot. But after watching Carrier the past few nights, I feel even more strongly about it.

There have been so many times while watching Carrier this week that I’ve thought “I know how this feels,” or “Yes, this is familiar.” The series started Sunday night with Navy families dockside, tears flowing. I relate as I remember speaking to my daughter-in-law on the phone while still a newlywed as she sobbed about her husband leaving for an extended period of time.

I relate when I hear the young men and women talk about enlisting because the Navy will allow them to pursue their college hopes and dreams. My son enlisted in the Navy. Since then he has completed his college degree, become an officer and now is a pilot. This is due to much hard work, but the Navy rewards hard work. If you are willing to put in the effort, the opportunities are there.

I relate when I see the USS Nimitz entering port in Hawaii with the crew surrounding the deck standing at attention. I’ve witnessed this first-hand at the port in San Diego when the USS Squall returned from a six-month tour. It is truly a majestic sight to see all those young men and women in crisp white uniforms. The band plays on shore and being part of this event makes your heart swell with pride and patriotism.

I can relate when the USS Nimitz heads to the Middle East. Although my son is no longer aboard a ship, I’ve faced the fear that fills you when your child goes to a war zone and is flying above hostile territory. And like those aboard the USS Nimitz, whether you agree with a war or not, you support the effort because it is your family and your country that is doing all they can do to ensure our freedom.

This is compelling television: It’s honest, it’s real, it’s hopeful. It’s full of pride, and positivity. Five thousand men and women, a vast number between 18 and 21, working as a cohesive team is impressive. Our youth can be counted on to perform. It’s refreshing to see when we are constantly inundated with news that our young people have gone astray.

If you haven’t seen Carrier, you’re missing the boat! (Pun intended!) Aside from the personal dynamics, the photography is amazing and the music is edgy. PBS has done all of us a favor by offering this to viewers.


Sue Vanskiver
Senior Administrative Assistant

Chesapeake Bay Week! (and Eatin' Crabs, hon!)

It's been raining cats and dogs (some may say crabs, even!) the past two days here in Baltimore. Perfectly fitting as MPT kicks off its fourth annual Chesapeake Bay Week.

We've got a full roster of bay-themed programs lined up this week, including a lively little ditty called Eatin' Crabs Chesapeake Style that's—you guessed it—all about chowing down on the crabby crustaceans as only Chesapeakers can. (Sounds like Baltimore Sun restaurant critic and blogger Elizabeth Large will be tuning in!)

The program features local crab expert Whitey Schmidt and his “ten commandments” for eatin’ crabs, from picking the critters fresh from the water to knowing their peak season. The crab lover spent one summer visiting a whopping 275 crab houses and eating 3,000 crabs—all so he can tell YOU the best places to go and the best way to eat 'em.

For a full line up of Chesapeake Bay Week programming, visit www.mpt.org/bayweek.

Lovin' the skin I'm in

On vacation every year in Florida, I couldn't wait til my dutiful grandfather left my side at the pool so I could change into the "skimpier" bikini. I then proceeded to wipe off any remaining sunblock Grandpa strongly enforced while shooting a sly wink at the lifeguard. He was now my partner in crime

Glistening blisters on my skin from my sunburn reminded me that perhaps I took it too far, though my uncomfortable memories seemed to fade by the next vacation.

I proudly displayed my tan lines back home like A's on an elementary school report card. No longer the pasty, fair-skinned redhead, I was a goddess of sorts—at least in my own biased assessment. What do you expect? I was in my early 20s and unstoppable!

Two years later at age 23, my vocabulary would soon expand. Gifted to me by my dermatologist were the words "malignant melanoma," "large excision," "five-year survival rate" as well as "reoccurrence." Now visualize a dog tilting his head in confusion! What this meant was that I had a serious skin cancer—the deadliest kind that could spread if not treated immediately.

The melanoma was found in a very small mole that was dark in color. Had it not been for my old boyfriend urging me to go to the dermatologist, I might not be blogging this happy tune.

I passed my five-year survival rate with flying colors and wound up with a second melanoma ten years after my first one. This one was again successfully removed during surgery, and I have a clean bill of health as I blog here today.

So what gives? I do the right thing (kind of like eating oatmeal every day). I wear sun block SPF 30 and carry a bottle wherever I go. I avoid the sun during peak hours (10 a.m. – 4 p.m.) or wear long sleeves. I find shade when I can and wear sunglasses to protect my eyes. I visit my dermatologist every year and also check my skin monthly to look for changes.

I still wink at lifeguards whenever I get the chance, and have fond memories of the ten different bottles of sunblock lined up like proud soldiers in Grandpa's medicine cabinet. Grandpa, here's to looking at you, kid! As much as I hate to admit it, you were right!

Learn more about cancer—including living with cancer, managing the diagnosis, and cancer screening and prevention—later this week as MPT airs The Truth About Cancer Wednesday, April 16 at 9 p.m.

Jill R. Adler
Manager, Community Health Education
LifeBridge Health

Rich Woman!

Most nights before turning in, I take one last survey through my favorite channels to see what’s on. Usually I settle on some reality show repeat on Bravo, TLC or MTV. But one particular night I stopped on MPT after seeing a woman standing in front of a screen with “RICH WOMAN” printed boldly behind her. This caught my attention. After watching a few minutes, I was captivated by this pledge program (yep, a pledge program!) encouraging women to acquire wealth.

The host of the show was a lady named Kim Kiyosaki who was trying to get her female audience to understand they have to take control of their finances. Surprisingly, she told them the time to start investing is now. A down market is a terrific time to invest, she explained to them. I was intrigued by this tidbit of information, especially with all of the news networks screaming the U.S. may enter a recession soon.

Who would have guessed that with interest rates plummeting and the stock market so volatile, women should throw their money hats in the ring? Not me, that’s for sure! Not until I heard from Kim. Along with three of her “girlfriends,” she chatted for nearly two hours about money. They spoke of their investment preferences; paper assets vs. real estate. They talked about women overcoming their fear of investing and taking control of their money. There were terms like “cash flow,” “options,” “mutual funds,” and “capital gains” being thrown around, and while it wasn’t easy to grab the complete definition of terms being used, it was inspiring to hear these women talk about money in a way that I could somewhat understand.

All the women stated time and time again that finance isn’t as hard as it seems. They wanted their female audience to understand that you don’t have to be a man to be independently wealthy. Any woman can learn the lingo and take the steps to become prosperous. Simple steps like educating yourself on the purpose of money, and sitting with your spouse quarterly to go over your family’s financial records go a long way. Over and over again they wanted women not to be intimidated by investing by reinforcing the “if-I-can-do-it-you-can-do-it” spirit.

There was one woman who, along with her husband, was a medical doctor and deeply in debt. (Normally I am not one to feel good about someone else’s misfortune, but two broke doctors made my financial situation seem much less bleak!) As I listened to her story one thing she said rang in my ears: she was working harder but was falling deeper and deeper in debt. That is not the work cycle I learned in school. My recollection was teachers telling us that the harder you work, the more successful you will be in all ways. Another woman was divorced with three children and homeless when she began taking steps to learn about acquiring wealth. These women were not only inspiring—they were brave. Instead of acting as though the situation was hopeless, they took it upon themselves to turn their financial circumstances around.

All three women were exceptionally inspirational and dynamic but, most importantly, easy to relate to. They made me think beyond how I normally do about money. As I finally drifted off to sleep, many questions stirred in my mind. Why can’t my money work harder for me? Why do I feel part of a rat race never really getting ahead financially? Do I want to look at my financial situation in ten years and see no real gain? And most importantly: What am I afraid of? And while I haven’t run out and opened an e-trade account just yet, I did sign up for a free options trading seminar. I’m educating myself and getting started with a new financial plan for me and my family. It’s time I find the Rich Woman in me. My family and my bank account will thank me for it!


Kamesha Milton
Manager, Research & Content Marketing

The ‘Austen formula’

I’ve been looking forward to Sense and Sensibility (one part of Masterpiece’s highly anticipated series The Complete Jane Austen) for almost a year now. As a huge fan of both Pride and Prejudice and Bleak House—two miniseries with screenplays penned by the great Andrew Davies—I had high expectations. Not to mention, Sense and Sensibility is probably my favorite of the Austen novels since it was my first introduction to the world of pianofortes and Regency-era romantic entanglements. Before I read it, I wasn’t familiar with the “Austen formula,” so I experienced all the surprises and heartbreaks right along with the characters. Watching it Davies style brought back all those memories of stepping into the world of Austen characters: the Elinors and Mariannes, the Willoughbys and Colonel Brandons. It made me consider all the variables that come together to create the classic Austen formula.

Location is a key variable in the formula, especially a character’s home. This version of Sense and Sensibility seemed more true to life, exposing the struggles of living in an isolated cottage with little money (I couldn’t help but feel Davies infused a little bit of Bleak House into his screenplay adaptation). This particular version also takes Barton cottage and sets it by the sea amongst waves crashing against the rocks, which added that extra degree of intensity to the drama.

The second variable in the formula is character dynamics. The audience is left to decide whether they are more emotional like Marianne, more sensible like Elinor, shy and generous like Edward or arrogant like Willoughby. In this version (and not surprisingly), we get the added bonus of seeing intense dialogue between Willoughby and Colonel Brandon, where previous versions focused mainly on the perspectives of the sisters.

The third factor of the formula includes distinct romantic entanglements involving many tears, a great deal of patience and very long letters. The female protagonist reassesses her values and prejudices and ends up with the man she would have never in a million years considered at the beginning of the novel. In this version, however, I think that Davies does an excellent job of making the romantic relationships between characters believable. He establishes scene early on with a moving piano composition, where Marianne and Colonel Brandon grow closer through a shared love of music (to the point where I almost thought, well do they really even need to bother bringing Willoughby into the plot?).

The saddest thing about watching was realizing that I had to wait a week before seeing the second part of the series. Even though I’ve read it and seen two different versions, I was immersed in the plot as if I were encountering the world of Austen for the first time. The upside is that I have something to look forward to this Sunday.

(Part two of Sense and Sensibility airs on MPT Sunday, April 6th at 9 p.m.)

Susan Zagar
Intern, Leadership Giving

Bush's War

I use television to keep abreast of sports, politics and news, but, for the most part, have to look somewhere else to find discussion of substance. It’s a shame when the most truthful team of political analysts is a pair of comedians, Stewart and Colbert.

For example, I’m conflicted about Iraq. The reasoning and the dialogue about it changes every day, and I don’t know what to think. Just as politicians line up and down on one side or the other of the aisle to spew partisan rhetoric, so do the news networks. They say they don’t, but on issues so divisive, you have to pick which audience you want to pander to. And that’s a shame, but that’s business.

So it was refreshing last week to watch the Frontline two-part series about Iraq, Bush’s War. The second part of the program was especially sobering, as that morning The New York Times ran a three-page spread of letters and e-mails from falling soldiers, as well as pictures of the most recent 1,200 to die in the war. One of my good friends from home is about to head to Baghdad, and I pray I don’t see his face someday in The New York Times.

Five years into the war, Frontline attempted to explain how we got into this mess. It’s no secret that partisan squabbling and interagency wrangling got in the way of developing clear objectives, but, for once, the whole story, as we can imagine it so far, was presented in one narrative rather than a day-long news cycle of beating a story to death and then forgetting about it.

History is always a work in progress, and by no means was Frontline’s take on the war a completely unbiased account. No work of journalism is, whether it’s about the governors of New York or a high school basketball game. But it is important to try to develop some sense of connection between past and present, or we won’t have a sense of where we’re going.

So, much to my surprise, there is decent television to be found. Once music videos, vapid reality television, celebrity gossip, talking heads and the rest of the riffraff wears thin, it’s not a bad bet to stop once or twice by MPT before turning off the channel. Who knows what you’ll find.


Kevin Sunday
Communications Intern

What, no internet?

Driving home from work Friday night, I noticed a telephone pole down across the street from my condo. It didn’t register much until I got home. Then, like a bolt of lighting, it hit me. The telephone service is out, which means no internet service for those of us still using dial-up. Yes, it’s true. I work in media and still use dial-up. Perhaps the impetus for change is getting closer now.

During the dark days of this particular weekend, I was without the internet. As an internet addict and Google junkie, this left me panic-stricken and trembling. Besides the four trips I took to Panera Bread to access the internet and a few “drive bys” at my sister’s house, I was woefully without internet access for three days.

But don’t fret, my friends. During the darkness I found slivers of light. Chores were accomplished, and I found time to tune into some cooking shows on MPT. In a previous post, I mentioned my love for Lidia Bastianich, host of the scrumptious PBS Italian cooking show Lidia’s Italy. I caught an episode of Lidia’s travels to a quaint Italian town known for its delectable coffee. The town was reminiscent of Venice, with welcoming outdoor cafés and romantic waterways.

On this particular episode, Lidia recreated the complicated coffee drinks at home. Coffee never looked so good and complex. Quite honestly, I’m a Dunkin Donuts girl; I like my coffee weak and fast. Lidia took her time preparing rich specialty drinks using several shiny contraptions in a sequence. Too complicated for me, but it was beautiful to watch. She makes it look effortless, but I know better.

Still without internet access, I treated myself to more, thinking that this could get pretty addictive. I also caught most of Julia Child: Lessons with Master Chefs. Surely you know Julia, the famous master chef with a love for rich French food. Butter and cream make frequent appearances in her dishes. What’s great about Julia is her interest in learning from other master chefs. She takes in something from each chef that accompanies her on the show and incorporates these tidbits into her own cooking. Julia is relaxed, yet classy and charming. She is elegant in speech, lively in attitude and comforting like a pair of fuzzy slippers on a cold day.

But it’s not all about the women and elegance. Listen up, guys, I saw a show that’s just for you, it involves three things you might be able to appreciate: meat, grilling and beer. If you tune into Barbeque University, hosted by Steven Raichlen, you will find a meat-lovers paradise. For the meat timid, like me, I had to squint a few times and look away from the screen, because this is the real deal. Whole sides of beef and enormous ribs are displayed like art and dangle in front of the camera for your viewing pleasure (or pain, as it may be). If diamonds are a girl’s best friend, surely beef is a man’s close companion. I have an appreciation for all food, even if it’s food I don’t eat. So for those carnivores, go for it, tune into Barbeque U. and get your grill on. This is the perfect show to get you ready for spring barbeques and claim your stake as grill king.

Eventually the phone line got fixed and I went back to Google, my pacifier and gateway to the world. But I realized a few things over the course of the weekend. Some I already knew.

1. I am addicted to Google (I already knew that.)
2. Raw meat and fish still freak me out (I knew that, too.)
3. I trust MPT to keep airing quality shows that expand my mind.

Perhaps next time I won’t wait until the phone lines are down to sit and take in a few good shows. Perhaps it’s also time to throw in the towel and get broadband.

Leslie Adler
Marketing Manager, Education Projects