Cold Spaghetti

On Sunday, we slept until 9am, 8am Central Time, had breakfast and ventured in the 20-degree, clear sky D.C. day. Paul feared of frostbite at every turn, with good reason, since I was dragging him all over hillsides and sidewalks. We walked down to The Marine Corps Memorial, which I had never seen in person. I am embarrassed to admit it: but I didn’t even know it was in Virginia (I assumed it was near the memorials along the Mall area.) I also didn’t know it was so. damn. big. The thing is huge! After seeing it so many times in pictures, I was a little caught off guard when I noticed a lump in my throat looking up at it. It is surprisingly moving in person. (It is also surprising that the photograph of the monument on the National Park Service website is marred by a huge street sign in back of it. Yikes!) Can you see the Washington Monument peaking out to the right of the monument? It’s a beautiful view into the District from this hillside.Then, after a 5 minute detour due to being lost, we headed into the District. We ended up hitting Independence almost all the way at the Capital, at the end of the Mall. A parking space magically appeared and we took it as a sign we should get out and go to the Museum of the American Indian.
If you went to public school in the United States, chances are pretty high that you know next to nothing about American Indians. By American Indians, or Native Americans, I mean in indigeous peoples whose residence in the Americas (South America, Central America, and North America) pre-date European settlers. What I know about Native Americans I learned mostly by going cross-country with my family when I was 16 (our first family vacation, but that is another story). The bottom line of this learning was that I uncovered the horrible truth: we (European settlers and early White Americans) were shit-heads to Native peoples and are country continues in this legacy to this day. Somehow this message got watered down in schooling.

Side note… One Big Reason for this, incidentally, was because Lynne Cheney (AKA: the Antichrist) during her tenure as the Director of the National Endowment for the Humanities in the 80s (*shutter*… a Reagan appointee… one of the many reasons that the nostalgia over ‘the Reagan years’ makes me hurl), she was hell-bent on an agenda for the design of teaching standards in American History. She advocated for “America-first” curriculum which heavily favored teaching U.S. students of the good ‘ole days when our country’s leaders were limited to wealthy, land-holding white men who own black slaves and discussed the merits of whether or not it was wise to let women learn how to read. Any type of programming which challenged the idea of the Destiny of America as some sort of Divine province worked against this ethnocentric vision. Programs which logically and realistically portrayed Native peoples or showed the happenings of history in a less-than-rosy light were Not Part of The Plan. So if you grew up thinking, “jeez, I know we’ve made some bad moves with Native Americans, but it’s all good, ’cause we’re the good guys!!” then you’ve got Lynne Cheney to thank. (Side note: she would rally against this very program when it was altered after her tenure at the NEH and later, she would advocate for the de-funding of the entire program. I watched her testimony on Capital Hill while I was a federal employee at the NEH’s sister agency, the NEA.)

Anyway, if you grew up in the Lynne Cheney bubble, there is a cure. This museum. It is fantastic.

The inside has a huge open atrium that circles up (not unlike the Hirschhorn) — like the inside of a huge hive. I only took A Photograph inside (below, of an Aymara Reed boat).

We didn’t have enough time to enjoy all of the exhibits but were incredibly impressed with what we did see. I think my favorite exhibit was on the Contemporary Lives and Identities of Native Peoples, focusing on several tribes (the Igoolik in Canada and Pamunkey in Virginia are the ones that I can remember). The honesty and clarity within the presentation of materials was striking. Other areas that stood out were pieces that illustrated the impact of disease in Native peoples as a result of Contact (a word capitalized through exhibits) and the immense quantities of gold and treasures stolen. The range of quotations, thoughtful and memorable soundbites, and video clips were impressive. The Museum is a beautiful tribute to what must have been an incredible creative partnership. I strongly recommend taking the kids and giving it a go… can’t wait ’til our kids are old enough to appreciate this sort of thing.

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Across Independence was the Department of Education (where we parked) and after dragging Paul around the Mall, I noticed the little read school houses covering every entrance of the building. I had to get a closer look.

See the bell? It’s a school bell from Milford, Pennsylvania. The plaque reads:

How nice! It’s to symbolize the Mission of the Department of Education to provide a quality education to all American children. What is that, in back of the bell? Those little red houses? What do they symbolize? A closer look:

Expensive edifices with no purpose, reminding us that the No Child Left Behind program reigns this country. You know, the program that works fitfully against the message on the “enduring symbol” emblazed on the monument that sits in front of the building. Ack! The irony!

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We drove more around the District (read: got lost a lot) and finally determined that it would be too long of a walk to see the WWII memorial. Instead, we drove down to Hain’s Point, stopping along this bridge, by the George Mason Memorial.

Hi George!
Finally, we got to Hain’s Point (read: got lost and almost couldn’t find it). The Awakening was still there. The sky was crystal blue and we were the only ones there. (See that red car in the corner? That was the Ford Mustang the rental agency upgraded us to when we gave her Mardi Gras beads at check-in.)
Looking out Hain’s Point.
Will would have LOVED this sculpture.
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It took us about 30 minutes to get the airport (26 minutes were lost) and we had an easy trip back (read: there were no kids to wrangle). Great trip!