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Dear Shelley Moore Capito,

Dear Senator Capito,

I’ve called your office more times during the past couple of weeks than I have called any politician’s office in my entire life. You see, I’m worried about your intentions.

Your job as a senator requires you to make decisions in the best interest of me and the other 1.8 million people who live in West Virginia.

You aren’t doing that.

I saw the recent photo of you and  President Trump with a caption that said together you will bring back jobs for coal miners. That’s a lie, and you know it. There are a variety of reasons coal can no longer be the backbone of West Virginia’s economy, and your support of environmental deregulation at the risk of harming state residents won’t fix it. ( But you realize many or your constituents don’t want to read or hear the facts. They just want their politicians to fix something that is permanently broken. So unless you have a plan to find new jobs for former coal miners, and I’ve seen nothing of the sort, you are lying. And you are voting against the best interest of unemployed coal miners because they don’t want to hear that life as they know it has changed. Apparently, their vote is more important to you than their health is.

This same political pandering must be why you aren’t questioning Trump’s executive order on immigrants and refugees. After all, I’ve seen your written response to those who questioned your support. You defended yourself by saying that Trump is acting in the interest of national security. It’s not about national security. It’s about rhetoric and feeding into the hate that spurred Trump’s campaign. And you know it. His actions certainly aren’t based in fact.  Experts in homeland security have expressed concern about his order: But many West Virginians don’t understand immigration or the extreme vetting that refugees must already endure. They seem to think that being Muslim is practically a crime and use this to justify their distrust and even hate while calling themselves good Christians.  But you don’t care if their opinions aren’t based in reality, and you choose to feed their fears anyway. I thought your job is to protect West Virginians regardless of their misguided beliefs. If so, you’re failing.

Which brings me to the issue that is probably bothering me the most: your plan to vote to confirm Betsy DeVos as Secretary of Education. Ms. DeVos doesn’t have a degree in education, has no experience working in a school environment, never attended a public school or state university, sent all four of her children to private schools, and supports for-profit education. No matter how I look at this situation, I cannot understand how you could believe that putting her at the helm of our nation’s public education system is good for the Mountain State. Let’s face it, West Virginia is already struggling with educating our young people. During the 2015-2016 school year, 51% of our state’s high school juniors scored below the reading proficiency level, and 79% of them scored below the math proficiency level. Twelve percent of our adult population hasn’t even graduated from high school. Let me repeat that, more than 10% of our adult population hasn’t even graduated from high school!

Please explain how Betsy DeVos, a woman with no education experience, will be able to help West Virginia. Since we live in such a poor and rural state, I certainly can’t imagine how her passion for private schools will help.

I hate to be cynical, but do you actually like having an under-educated constituency? Do you believe that the less educated we are, the more gullible we will be? I certainly hope this isn’t true, but since you have a pattern of voting in ways that support your constituents often misguided beliefs and against their best interests, I find myself wondering.

Even more importantly, I’d also like to prove myself wrong. I ‘d like you to show me that you aren’t making decisions because they are popular instead of being right.

That is, after all, what we mothers have often told our children to do.

Maybe it’s time to start behaving in the same manner.



Trina Bartlett

365 Reasons to Smile – Day 90

heroThe year my friend Michele’s mother died, I remember discussing good years and bad years.

The essence of our conversation was that we categorize the most memorable events of our lives by the year they occurred. Because of that, we automatically label certain years as good or bad.

Based on that, the year 2013 has been a bad year. People  I care about  are hurting.

Some are dealing with addiction in their family.

Some are dealing with divorce.

Some are dealing with employment issues.

And some are dealing with a diagnosis of cancer. Again.

Even worse, all of these individuals have incredible compassion for others. They are selfless and generous and, most importantly, they are positive. They talk about moving on and about miracles.

Most of all, they don’t define life through their own experiences but rather through the experiences of those they’ve touched.

Some day when I’m more removed from immediate crises, I will reflect back on the year 2013.  Even though I’ve experienced more sorrow than celebration, I don’t know that I could ever categorize this as a bad year.

I will simply categorize it as a year that my friends became my heroes.

And that will always make me smile.

Day 90:  Heroes Day 89: The Cricket in Times Square  Day 88:  The Grand Canyon  Day 87: Unanswered Prayers  Day 86: Apples Fresh from the Orchard  Day 85: Being Human  Day 84: Captain Underpants  Day 83: The Diary of Anne Frank  Day 82: In Cold Blood Day 81: Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry  Day 80: The Outsiders   Day 79:  I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings Day 78: The First Amendment Day 77: People Who Touch Our Lives   Day 76:  The Rewards of Parenting    Day 75:  Improvements   Day 74:  Family Traditions   Day 73: Learning From Our Mistakes  Day 72: Live Music  Day 71:  Sleeping In  Day 70:  Grover  Day 69:  A Good Hair Day   Day 68:  A Sense of Community   Day 67: Kindness    Day 66: Living in a Place You Love   Day 65: Gifts from the Heart  Day 64: The Arrival of Fall  Day 63: To Kill a Mockingbird   Day 62: Green Lights Day 61:  My Canine Friends  Day 60:  Differences   Day 59:  A New Box of Crayons   Day 58: Bookworms  Day 57: Being Oblivious   Day 56: Three-day Weekends  Day 55:  A Cat Purring  Day 54: Being a Unique Individual   Day 53: Children’s Artwork  Day 52: Lefties  Day 51: The Neighborhood Deer   Day 50: Campfires  Day 49: Childhood Crushes  Day  48: The Words “Miss You”  Day 47:  Birthday Stories   Day 46: Nature’s Hold on Us  Day 45:  Play-Doh   Day 44: First Day of School Pictures  Day 43: Calvin and Hobbes  Day 42: Appreciative Readers  Day 41: Marilyn Monroe’s Best Quote   Day 40:  Being Silly  Day 39:  Being Happy Exactly Where You Are  Day 38: Proud Grandparents  Day 37: Chocolate Chip Cookies   Day 36: Challenging Experiences that Make Great Stories  Day 35: You Can’t Always Get What You Want  Day 34:  Accepting the Fog    Day 33: I See the Moon  Day 32: The Stonehenge Scene from This is Spinal Tap  Day 31: Perspective  Day 30:  Unlikely Friendships  Day 29: Good Samaritans  Day 28:  Am I a Man or Am I a Muppet?    Day 27: Shadows  Day 26: Bike Riding on Country Roads  Day 25: When Harry Met Sally  Day 24: Hibiscus   Day 23: The Ice Cream Truck  Day 22:  The Wonderful World of Disney   Day 21: Puppy love  Day 20 Personal Theme Songs     Day 19:  Summer Clouds  Day 18: Bartholomew Cubbin’s Victory Day 17:  A Royal Birth    Day 16:  Creative Kids Day 15: The Scent of Honeysuckle   Day 14: Clip of Kevin Kline Exploring His Masculinity Day 13: Random Text Messages from My Daughter     Day 12:  Round Bales of Hay Day 11:  Water Fountains for Dogs    Day 10: The Rainier Beer Motorcycle Commercial Day 9: Four-Leaf Clovers  Day 8: Great Teachers We Still Remember Day  7:  Finding the missing sock   Day 6:  Children’s books that teach life-long lessons Day 5: The Perfect Photo at the Perfect Moment     Day 4:  Jumping in Puddles   Day 3: The Ride Downhill after the Struggle Uphill    Day 2: Old Photographs Day 1: The Martians on Sesame Street

Revelations from a Former Republican

During a recent conversation, I shocked a friend when I mentioned that, when I turned 18, I had registered to vote as a Republican.

“You were NOT a Republican,” she stated.  “There is just no way.”

“Not just a Republican,” I replied.  “I was actually heartbroken that, because of my age, I missed voting for Ronald Reagan by only three months in the 1984 election.”

Since I was talking to my friend on the phone, I can’t confirm that her mouth was actually hanging open, but I’m pretty sure it was.

“What happened?” she finally asked.

“I don’t know exactly,”  I replied.  “But by the time I graduated from college, I’d changed political parties.”

In all honesty, I do know what happened. I’d identified the core values that would guide the rest of my life, and they simply just didn’t align with the Republican Party.

I don’t think my friend, or anyone else, really cares about how I arrived at my decision. And, until this past week, I didn’t feel any need to explain.

But after witnessing one too many debates about how people who receive SNAP (more commonly known as food stamps) may be eligible for additional benefits if they were affected by the derecho (, I felt the need to say something.

On the surface, the gist of the conservatives’ argument against the additional benefits was that the government was once again frivolously spending taxpayers dollars.

But, as the arguments continued, a different, more self-centered concern actually emerged.  Several people were  turning the discussion into a conversation about fairness, or more particularly unfairness,  in regards to their own lives:  ” I lost all my food when the power went out, and no one is paying me to replace it.” “I have a lot of  health care bills, and the government isn’t stepping in to help me.”  “Basically, I’m being punished for having a job. ”

Sadly, I could relate to their complaints. That kind of thinking was the reason I had originally registered a Republican.

At the age of 18, I really did believe that everyone had an equal opportunity in this country, and if a person worked hard and persevered, they should be able to meet their own needs. If they couldn’t make ends meet, they needed to work harder or get a better education to get a better job. I believed in responsibility:  if people made bad decisions then they, not I,  should have to pay for those decisions. And I believed that our leaders had our, not their own, best interests at heart.

I held onto those beliefs because I was surrounded by people who believed the same thing. Then I went to college, and I was surrounded by people who didn’t.

I met too many people who had been denied equal opportunity through no fault of their own. I met too many people who had made poor decision after poor decision only to be bailed out by family while others fell into bad luck and had no one who could help. I learned more and more about greed, inequality and political corruption.  And I learned  more about myself.

At some point, I was confronted with the ultimate question: is life about what I can do for myself or is it about providing  unconditional support for others, even when it sometimes costs me?

I chose the latter.

Don’t get me wrong.  I can be very self-centered, and I know a lot of Republicans who are anything but selfish.

I just don’t think the core of my political beliefs should be about what makes my, or my family’s, life better or easier. I think public policy should be about ensuring the safety and well-being of all Americans, particularly those who haven’t had the same privileges that I’ve had:  good parents, a good education, a decent I.Q.  and a lack of any significant health problems.

When I look back on 18-year-old me, I still understand where I was coming from.

I still think people should do their best and be responsible for their behavior. I also think corporations and millionaires should do the same.

I still believe in hard work and self discipline. I also believe that too many people work very hard and still don’t get paid a fair wage so they can’t make ends meet.

I still wish life were fair. I also realize that making life more fair for everyone requires public policies that provide additional support for those who need it.

The difference between 18 year-old me and 45 year-old me is I don’t think the world owes me anything. Instead, I think I owe the world. The difference is I know some people put their own interests  above the interests of others, even when it comes to the environment or safety or health. And I know that the most effective way to ensure such people do minimal damage is to implement and enforce regulation.The difference is that even though I don’t agree with  wasteful spending, the wasteful spending I’ve seen isn’t for the programs intended to make the lives of most Americans better.

The difference is that I  have enough life experience to know that life isn’t about being fair.

And that’s why I got so frustrated with the debate about additional SNAP/food stamp assistance.  The debate wasn’t about whether people needed the assistance. Instead, it was a debate about fairness. I’m pretty sure if you asked the majority of people who were eligible to receive the help, they would be the first to tell you life isn’t fair.  If it were, they’d be fortunate enough to afford to replace their own groceries while complaining about those who couldn’t.

On this Thanksgiving, I’m Thankful for All the Handouts I’ve Received

There are times when I just want to scream out loud. But that doesn’t necessarily solve any problems, so sometimes I choose to scream through writing.

Now is one of those times.

While I can’t emphasize enough that I believe in the First Amendment, that everyone is entitled to their own opinions and that everyone should be allowed to express them, there are times when those opinions just seem so off base.

Take, for example, the number of people who complain about others who take “handouts” and/or boast that they have never done so themselves. They often say this as though they are morally superior.

I just don’t get that, because I have yet to meet a person who hasn’t received a handout.

Personally, I’ve received more handouts than I ever deserved. And this Thanksgiving, I am so grateful for them.

The handouts I’ve received may not have been in the form of government assistance for  low-income individuals, but they are the reason I haven’t had to depend on such help when I’ve hit a rough patch.

I am grateful that I received the handout of  a mother who didn’t abuse alcohol or drugs and had a healthy diet while she was pregnant.  Her decisions provided me with a giant advantage in life.  I was born healthy and had parents who ensured I maintained my health. Too many people start life without that handout and spend the rest of their life trying to catch up.

I am grateful for the handout of parents who were concerned about my education from the day I was born.  They shared their love of the written word by reading out loud to me.  They didn’t set me in front of a television so they could go on with the lives they wanted. They provided me with books, crayons and the opportunity to express myself.  Too many people spent the first three years of their lives without any of those handouts  – handouts that greatly influence their ability to learn and process information.

I am grateful for the handout of being a child that never knew what it was like to be truly scared or cold or hungry.   There was always food on the table, in the cupboard, in the refrigerator and in the freezer. I never went to bed afraid that there wouldn’t be heat in the morning or that I wouldn’t have a coat to wear in cold weather. Too many people grow up without the simple handout of having those basic needs met – which creates a completely different perspective of how the world works.

I am grateful for the handout of  parents who made their children and their family a priority.  I always felt wanted. I always felt like I belonged and I always felt like I helped make my family complete. I was never told I was a mistake. I was never told I was a burden. And I was never told that my parents’ life would be easier if I wasn’t around.  Just as importantly, I wasn’t hit, kicked burned or assaulted in my own home.  Too many people grow up abused and wondering why they even exist. The handout of love is powerful, and without it, people often seek affection and attention in the wrong places and in the wrong ways.

I am grateful for the handout of having parents who wanted me to succeed and who demonstrated self-discipline and good decision-making skills. They required my brother and me to take responsibility for our actions.  They also ensured that we were exposed to a wide variety of opportunities and activities.   They were never in jail, they never dragged us into unsafe locations and they didn’t bring a variety of unsavory characters into our home.  Too many people grow up without the handout of positive role models. Their parents or caretakers or community members are stumbling through life attempting to meet their own needs without even considering those of their children.  Our ability to make choices and understand consequences is a skill… and like all skills it needs to be demonstrated and practiced.

I am grateful for the handouts I received that were beyond human control.  I’m not dyslexic, I’m not disabled and I’m not disadvantaged. I am surrounded by people who can lend a helping hand.  When I faced a real emergency, there were always people in my life who had the resources to help me. Too many people are surrounded by people who are facing their own crises and don’t have the ability to help anyone else.

I am truly saddened by people who view poverty as a simple issue. It isn’t.

And I am bothered that some people think life is an even playing field and everyone has equal opportunities. We don’t.

And I worry about the belief that low-income people have flawed characters rather than an unbelievable set of obstacles to overcome.

I agree that there are success stories.There are people who have beaten the odds, overcome horrible situations and gone on to live very productive lives. I am privileged to know such people.

And I also know that somewhere along their life path, they got some handouts – generally in the form of a caring person or persons who wanted to share all they had been given:  whether material or spiritual. People who wanted to pay it forward rather than to hold it tight. People who understood the value of offering their hearts and their hands out to others.

On this Thanksgiving, I am not only grateful for the all of the hands that have been held out to me, I am grateful for the role models and heroes who continue to do this for others on a daily basis.

Holding your hands out can be a miracle for others.

Opening your heart to others can be a miracle for you.

I hope everyone has the opportunity to do both this Thanksgiving and into the upcoming holiday season.