First Birthdays, First Things
Changes in Direction
By Sharon K. Gordon-Spellman

Much happens in the space of time between two months, two visits, one in March, when I was with my family for my first-born granddaughter’s first birthday party, and the most recent visit, in May, when I was also lucky enough to be with my family again, for second-born grandson’s third birthday. During that two-month space of time, between March and May, my granddaughter has gone from taking her first, very tentative, look-mom-no-hands kinds of steps, yet still crawling most of the time, to, in May, not only walking most of the time, but almost running, sometimes passing her two older brothers, upright all the way, through the whole length of her house. In that same space of time, in state of wide-eyed amazement, two brothers watched a few helium birthday balloons disappear, up, up and away, into endless Seattle skyways. They also saw their first kite soar high above us, at the end of a taut string. As it glided, danced and swayed, gracefully, against the wind and against the gray-cloud background, the brothers each took turns holding the long, thin, gravity-defying string. Each brother felt the kite strain to fly away with the wind’s current, as the string tugged on his own hand and arm, and the upward pull of the wind filled, puffed and pulled the kite’s billowed, sail-like wings.

During the same May visit, after our whole family enjoyed our kite-flying outing, the two brothers also played their first marble game with Grammy and Uncle, each one taking turns, shooting a single marble at dozens of other marbles that were placed inside a circle made of string on the living-room rug. Upon reflection, while thinking about these childhood games, I couldn’t help but think that, someday, many years from now, they’ll be learning concepts and terms that will describe what they were watching, as they each took turns flying the kite, or aiming at and hitting marbles that shot outward from the inside to the outside of a string-enclosed circle: interactions between inertia and motion.

The grown-ups’ lives have also changed during this same two-month period of time: My son-in-law began considering the possibilities of a new teaching position; my daughter has upgraded this site from a simple webpage to magazine format and is full of new ideas for projects and ways to further her commitment to maintaining her bicultural-bilingual household. Though Corey’s brother, Uncle Thomas, and I “ONLY” make the long drive between Nevada City, California, and Seattle, Washington, about five or six times a year, (for birthdays and a few holidays) it sometimes seems as though our two households are frequently, happily, merging into one. – Two separate households connected by a certain, 700 plus mile “ribbon of highway,” known as I-5. Just yesterday, while cleaning this house I live in, I started looking for a little gray dustpan and whist-broom, and realized, “how silly I am; that’s at Corey’s house, not here.” Similarly, during each visit, I mentally bring home a few new German words, ideas, traditions or practices.

Some things stay the same though. In a few days our earth’s great golden heat source will, right on schedule, be as far north as it can possibly be this year. Moving from the cusp between spring and summer, it will soon be summertime in both California and Washington. Our two households are already enjoying longer daylight hours, more time outside; children playing with hoses and sprinklers in the backyard; chalk-drawings and words (e.g., “wasser”) on the front walkway; flowers in the garden blooming; tricycle and wagon rides down neighborhood sidewalks; trips to the zoo and neighborhood parks; earth’s warmer, more fragrant breaths of air, sunshine and warm breezes on our faces.

In less than a month from now, after another 13 hour or so drive northward on that ribbon of highway, Uncle Thomas and Grammy will again be arriving in Seattle to celebrate another birthday with our family. The beginnings of another being will be remembered and celebrated, along with all the hopes and dreams that being brought into this world we share. On July 4th we’ll celebrate the beginning of an idea together, an idea that took on a life of its own. That idea grew and became codified in writing and made into a written declaration -- a promise, accompanied by the intent to fulfill, actualize and protect its existence. The promise declares that each and every one of us, regardless of flaws, foibles, frailties, mistakes, religious preferences, political views, or other differences, has certain “unalienable rights;” that is, rights inherent within our individual existence, inherent by the mere fact of having been born into this world. Except for those original ones, who inhabited this land before we arrived, all of us, or our ancestors, came from foreign lands, many pursuing better protections for those “unalienable rights.” Though some may try to interfere with our progress toward fulfilling that promise, or even attempt to undermine and weaken the promise itself, most of us will continue to stand firmly behind its true meaning and worth. Most of us will continue, not only to realize it for ourselves, but also to do what we can to preserve, protect and share it with others who care to carry the ideals it represents into their own everyday lives.

Though a secular document, written in words unique to this country’s language and culture, the ideas of this promise also carry a spiritual tone, which is not exclusively European-American. Some original native-American tribes and families also practiced many of its principles for generations, long before this document was written. And I’ve also read that, in many instances, members of those tribes were as true or truer in practice to those innate ideals as was any patriotic colonist. But this holiday celebrates the birth of a written document, one that anyone in the world can read for him or herself, and, thereby, judge how well, as individuals and as a whole society, we are living up to or failing those principles and our attempts to one day actualize and come even closer to realizing the ideals it represents.

Hopefully, my grandchildren will also one day learn about and be committed to carrying on that dream, and, with good health, a good education, a bit of luck and good parenting, they may be even better prepared than we are now to non-violently protect this land of their birth, from the errors of hubris which can lead us all far astray from the mark, the pursuit of the ideal, the central theme of this culture’s best hopes. So, Happy Birthday America, and may we all help each other to remember and renew our highest, most noble aims; our best hopes, ideals and commitments.

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Sharon K. Cook-Gordon-Spellman has been a year-round resident of the western slopes of the Sierra foothills, near Nevada City, California, since 1972. Her monthly column for Multilingual Living Magazine is about the joys, trials and tribulations involved with being a grandmother of three bilingual children.

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