Voter ID law unconstitutional

A proposed bill, which has been suppressed since former Gov. Bev Perdue vetoed it in 2011, is back in the eye of the public. This North Carolina bill requires voters to present one of eight state-issued forms of photo identification.

Identification that costs voters money.

Let’s circle back before 1964. To complete a ballot, voters were charged money to vote, also known as a poll tax.

Those unable to pay weren’t allowed to vote.  The law was directed toward impoverished blacks to deny them the right to vote.

When the 24th amendment passed in ’64, it became illegal to require a federal poll tax. This amendment still stands today.

Voting should be free.

Republicans describe this legislation as a way to protect the integrity of the vote and prevent fraud and corruption.

However, voter fraud is not a widely reported issue. By making it more difficult for Americans to vote, the state is decreasing the number of minority voters, typically Democrats.

Yes, other states have ratified voter ID laws. But if this bill passes, North Carolina will have the strictest law in the U.S.

North Carolina’s proposed bill does make exceptions. The disabled would be exempt, as well as those in financial hardships. Voters would have to sign a document in order for the state to provide necessary documentation to get a photo ID.

It’s a nice gesture, but if the then state finds someone capable of buying an ID, the voter would be charged with a felony offense.

Laura Leslie of WRAL notes that other states have offered free identification to anyone, regardless of their ability to pay.

Students of UNC-school systems and community colleges would be able to present their school IDs, but those attending private schools could not.

Provisional ballots for those without photo ID on Election Day are allowed but would only be valid if the voter returns to an election board before results are official.

This still requires more work on the part of the voter, especially if traveling is difficult.

A report from the State Board of Elections shows that about 9.25 percent of all registered voters in North Carolina lack state-issued photo ID.

Although election officials pointed out the number may be lower due to mismatched records, the numbers cannot be ignored.

Gov. Pat McCrory should recognize what Perdue did in 2011. The bill would disenfranchise many eligible voters, even with certain immunities.

Footloose, Cut Loose

I’m ashamed to say I never saw the original 1984 production of Footloose, especially considering my attraction to dance movies. After recently watching the 2011 remake, I can’t believe I’ve missed out for so long.

When the film began, the characters seemed to fill conventional roles, with every move predetermined.

The plot unfolded as such: a Bostonian bad boy moves into a small southern town, disrupting the dynamics and causing everyone to learn something about themselves by the end.

However, the film harvested interesting characters and plot surprises. Footloose does not find itself on the long list of predictable movies to avoid.  

Three years after a tiny town in Georgia banned dancing within the city limits, Ren McCormack moves down from Boston to stir things up.

His smart mouth gets him in trouble with the law when the sheriff stops him for playing his music too loud. However, the mundane, overplayed role ends here.

On McCormack’s first day at the local high school, he bumps into a football player in the hallway. At this point, most viewers roll their eyes, because the new kid in town has already started making enemies. 

However, after some witty banter, Willard Hewitt breaks into a grin, pats McCormack on the back, and the two are inseparable for the rest of the film.

At his uncle’s suggestion, McCormack goes to work at a cotton gin, where he jokes about learning to read, write and redneck. We see his supervisor step forward to scold him, but instead offers him the job and jokes back.

Just when you think the Bostonian is going to make his first enemy, he makes another friend.

Aside from the surprises in the plot, the characters’ personalities were astonishingly deep. McCormack, for one, isn’t a big fan of alcohol, and he refuses drugs when a burnout offers him marijuana. This isn’t how we imagine the “troublemaker” of the film to behave.

There was only one moment when McCormack was rude to an authority figure. The principal spoke poorly of his mother, who recently died from leukemia. He had spent the past several years taking care of her after his father left, and he wouldn’t stand for anyone talking about her.

One of his best moments comes when he approaches the town council with a respectful speech filled with Bible verses to persuade them to change the dancing ban. When it still wasn’t lifted, McCormack had other ideas.

He planned to throw a prom outside the town limits, but still asked for the preacher’s blessing and permission to take his daughter. McCormack’s character was respectful and confident, and quickly learned the ways of the town.

McCormack and his friends didn’t get the dancing ban lifted like they wanted, but there was an understanding between the teenagers and the church.

By the final dancing scene, everyone was satisfied, which is how it should be. Most people appreciate a happy ending, but endings like these reflect how things work out in the real world. 

A Tribute to Patrick Swayze

I didn’t have to watch any movie other than Dirty Dancing to be hypnotized by Patrick Swayze. In fact, I watched it almost every night for an entire summer in high school.

There was no performance more mesmerizing than Johnny Castle’s final dance at Kellerman’s, when he swept the entire resort off its feet with Baby at his side.

Swayze storms in for the final scene with determination in his eyes. No one can forget the confident strides he took as he approached his true love, who he had left heartbroken without him.

The ever-intimidating father stands up to face him but he isn’t shaken. Chest out, Swayze speaks the most famous line to ever come from a 1980s film.

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” is permanently etched into the minds of women everywhere.

He tosses his black leather jacket aside and the couple takes the stage and stops the show.

When the music begins, we can sense Swayze’s demeanor change. He waltzes to center stage like he owns it and swings and swoops Baby to the beat. Every person who watched wanted to join in with the audience’s hooting.

With that legendary smirk, he pulls out dance moves that put me on the stage with him. It didn’t take long before everyone at the resort was, too.

Only Swayze could start a revolution like the one that took place at Kellerman’s in the summer of ’63.

I always liked to believe he was Johnny Castle, and in a way he was.

Swayze danced his whole life. He met his wife, Neimi, when she took dance lessons from his mother as an adolescent. Unlike typical Hollywood marriages, they had a genuine relationship that lasted until his death in 2009.

She was also the inspiration behind his ballad, “She’s Like the Wind.” The song was first released in the Dirty Dancing soundtrack, and his fans realized their hero was more than the actor they thought they knew.

He wasn’t perfect. At 30, Swayze began to lean on alcohol for emotional support. He sought help years later after his sister committed suicide by drug overdose.

Although alcoholism isn’t typically a positive trait, recovery is. Overcoming the disease makes Swayze all the more admirable.

The dirtier details about his life tend to fade when we think about his performance on the silver screen.

As with most of his admirers, I like to remember Swayze before the cancer consumed his life.

When I first heard about his death, it was a shock. I hadn’t even known he was sick.

I found out with nearly 100 other women during sorority rush. We were watching television in our down time, and Swayze’s young picture flashed on the screen. My mind might have exaggerated the silence I felt in the room when I saw the words “Dead at 57,” but I wasn’t the only person who felt it.

Although the performance debuted more than 25 years ago, the world has yet to see an actor as influential or a dancer as passionate.

I doubt it ever will.

Patrick Swayze :)

I've never seen him in any movie other than Dirty Dancing, but I watched it enough times to feel a pang in my heart when he died three and a half years ago.

From my perspective, it would be easiest to appeal to people who felt the way I did when I saw him as Johnny Castle.

We were mesmerized that someone who came from the wrong side of the tracks could be so talented, caring, and responsible when he didn't need to be. I felt like Johnny was Swayze's true persona.

It may be difficult for me to distinguish between a movie review and Swayze as an actor, because he really brought it to life for me. So I plan to bring in facts about his accomplishments and his personal life, not merely his filmography. I do plan to research his personality off-screen, as well as how others interpreted his acting in films I haven't seen.

Second Chances

“My boyfriend had to shake me to keep me awake so I wouldn’t go into a coma,” Alyssa Jameson said. “And that’s all I really remember.”

One January night three years ago, Alyssa Jameson closed herself up in her bathroom with a prescription bottle of anti-anxiety pills, and calmly swallowed nine in a row. She sat on the bathroom floor and waited to die.

“My dad found me lying on the floor like five minutes later,” Jameson said. “When he knocked on the door, it hit me what I’d just done. He opened the door and saw the pill bottle. It was the only time I’ve ever seen my dad cry.”

Jameson told her story slowly, trying to fill the gaps in her memory. She’d had a bad night and was driving around to distract herself. When she called her boyfriend of three years, she told him she didn’t know what to do anymore. He said he was too busy writing a paper to talk.

Jameson drove home and walked straight to the bathroom. She poured out all the pills and took what was left. With a blank expression, she recalled what the family doctor had said. If she had taken one or two more, she would have been rushed to the emergency room to get her stomach pumped. 

“After my dad carried me to the couch, my grandparents, my boyfriend and his mom came over to see how I was,” Jameson said. “At that point, I was just in a daze. I wasn’t thinking at all.”

During her first two years of high school, Jameson had a small, close group of friends, although she bounced from group to group. Her life was perfect by the book. She cheered with her best friends and was the team captain by sophomore year. She was nominated for the homecoming court and spent downtime studying for advanced placement classes. Jameson filled her weekends with sleepovers and movies with her friends.

Jameson had been diagnosed with depression and anxiety in 7th grade. At 16 years old, she didn’t realize her medicine had stopped working for her. She had no energy to go to school and no drive to do homework. She couldn’t focus. She fought with her parents daily and no one knew how to help.  

 “My friends tried to help as much as they could, but it’s hard for someone to help with a disease they don’t understand,” Jameson said. “It weighs on you internally and you ache. It’s like having the flu, but without the flu.”

Jameson credits the buildup of stress from her boyfriend cheating on her earlier that year, as well as the constant fighting with her mother. When he wouldn’t see her that night, it pushed her too far.

“I just wanted it all to be over,” Jameson said. “While it was happening, I didn’t think of anything. I was kind of stone cold.”

There was no miracle recovery after the incident. Jameson found herself in an abusive relationship, constantly running away from home. She refused to see a therapist for months and grew more depressed every day.

When the symptoms got significantly worse, she finally called her own intervention.

“I realized I didn’t want to live my life like that anymore, so I agreed to talk to a therapist,” Jameson said. She jokes, “I also started on Cymbalta, and Cymbalta can help!”

A sophomore in college, Jameson says she hopes those dark days are behind her. She holds an executive position in her sorority, keeps a high grade point average and knows what she wants to do with her life. Her dream of being a bilingual lawyer is driven by a desire to represent people who are overlooked.  

“I feel like I can live my life again without a big burden,” Jameson said. “It feels good to be able to trust again.”

Gingers and Snapping Turtles

When it comes to gymnastics, pretty much everything scares the hell out of you before you try it.

Whether the act itself scares them, like walking on a balance beam twice their height, or they're just scared of looking silly, it can be difficult to help children feel comfortable.

For the youngsters (we're talking 3 or 4 years old) jumping into the foam pit for the first time is like diving into a black hole filled with snapping turtles and gingers. To us, it's soft foam that we secretly want to nap in. But a child has never experienced it before, so you have to ease them in.

It helps to give them a piece of foam to hold onto for a few minutes. You can re-approach them with the question, and scoot into the pit to show it's safe.

I like to add a "wheee!" when I get in so it looks like I'm having the best time of my freaking life.

Your reluctant toddler will slide right in with you, and will probably throw a fit when it's time to get out.

Norma

I always felt uncomfortable walking into my grandparents’ house. I never knew what to say.

They were wonderful grandparents. They sat front row at every game and graduation. Our family had dinner at their house often, and on the weekends I would go to Barnes & Noble with Grandma.

For several years, she and I went to the midnight release and reading of the newest Harry Potter novel together, but I never told anyone.

I did these things out of obligation. I felt a responsibility to try and make my grandmother happy by painting ceramics and solving puzzles with her. It wasn’t until high school that I started to realize what our time together meant.

Grandma was in and out of nursing homes and hospitals for as long as I can remember. That was one thing that never changed, along with her love of Poppit. She could pop balloons on her laptop for hours without glancing up.

When I was 14, my dad dropped me off with a mini laptop so Grandma could play on it. Nursing homes aren’t as secure as you might think, and there was no chance he was going to leave it there unattended. I know it sounds bad, babysitting a laptop instead of wanting to spend time with my grandmother.

I had a lot of growing up to do.

I could hear Grandma’s television long before I got to her room. In grandparent fashion, she was sleeping right through it. When I woke her up, she was happy to see me and the computer.

She played games until her arthritis started hurting while I rolled around the room in a wheelchair.

With a couple hours before my dad came to pick me up, Grandma and I surfed the channels and I was thrilled when she wanted to watch the rest of Zenon, one of my favorite Disney movies.

Then we talked.

We talked about everything. It’s easy to forget that the elderly haven’t always been in rocking chairs and hospital beds. They have lived long lives through eras I’ve only read about in books.

Grandma’s young life was spent in boarding schools. She married at 22 and worked at the American Tobacco Company in Durham.

She was an excellent seamstress. She hand-sewed the uniforms for my aunt’s high school color guard team and cheerleading squad.

Grandma didn’t attend college until later in life, when her children were in college, too. She told me about when she took a Spanish class at the same time as my aunt. She whispered not to tell, but that Susan had gotten so angry when Grandma scored higher than her in the class.

 My father says they never took the same class, but I like how Grandma told the story.

I didn’t just learn to listen to the elderly that day. I realized that I have the ability to be important in someone’s life. I don’t know if I was ever the most important, but on the days I sat and listened to Grandma, I could tell no one had in a long time.

Until she passed away last year, I visited whenever I got the chance. I heard the same stories over again, and I started to hear some that I knew weren’t true. But they were real to her, and nothing made me happier than lending an ear.