Cool Proud Mom And Gun Owner American Flag with crossed guns five year, monthly all purpose planner book for 2019-2023(January 2019 through December 2023). Great for work, school or personal use. Large and easy to read. Plenty of space to track daily activities, school, appointments, budget/bills, birthdays, goals, exercise, schedules and more! 2019 - 2023 Five Year Monthly Calendar Planner Features: 5 Year Monthly Planner(2019, 2020, 2021, 2022 and 2023). 2 Page Split Month Layout. Next Month Preview Calendar. Lined Notes Section. Bonus Yearly Calendars. Flexible 8.5"X11" Softcover Paperback. 144 Pages. Professional Full Color MATTE finish cover for an elegant, professional look and feel. Great gift for teachers, birthdays and Christmas, family, friends and coworkers!

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Shannon Watts was a stay-at-home mom folding laundry when news of the tragic shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary flashed across the television screen. In one moment, she went from outraged to engaged and decided to do something about it. What started as a simple Facebook group to connect with other frustrated parents grew into Moms Demand Action, a national movement with millions of supporters and a powerful grassroots network of local chapters in all 50 states. Shannon has been called "the NRA’s worst nightmare”—and her army of moms have bravely gone up against the gun lobby, showing up in their signature red shirts, blocking the hallways of congress with their strollers, electing gun sense candidates and running for office themselves, proving that if the 80 million moms in this country come together, they can put an end to gun violence. Fight Like a Mother is the incredible account how one mother’s cry for change became the driving force behind gun safety progress. Along with stories of perseverance, courage, and compassion, Watts shines a light on the unique power of women—starting with what they have, leading with their maternal strengths, and doubling down instead of backing down. While not everyone can be on the front lines lobbying congress, every mom is already a multi-tasking organizer, and Shannon explains how to go from amateur activist to having a real impact in your community and beyond. Fight Like a Mother will inspire everyone—mothers and fathers, students and teachers, lawmakers, and anyone motivated to enact change—to get to work transforming hearts and minds, and passing laws that save lives.

It is 3:00 in the morning. My office window is half open. I can feel a nice cool breeze that reminds me of the early morning when I was a young man. I could hear my mother and father talking. Mother was only 5 ft. 7in. tall, but all of us thought she was a giant. My mother was telling my father about the pain in her neck from pulling the heavy cotton sacks and the pain in her fingers from the needle stick from the cotton bowl from the white man's cotton fields. My brother, Percy, and I were hurting because we knew how bad she was feeling. I had to be about eleven years old at the time, and Percy was around twelve. He looked at me and said, "Vernon, that's it." "No more?" I can remember asking, "What can we do?" He said, "We can run ahead of mother and put the cotton sack around our necks and pull it for her." My mother heard our conversation. Mother stopped walking and bent down and kissed me. Then she turned to Percy and kissed him. The look of pride in her eyes almost made me tear up. I never felt so big and so great. In my life, I am proud to say that my mother, from that day forward, never labored with pulling a horse harness again. As if that moment wasn't enough, let's keep remembering that it is at the end of a long hot day. In about thirty minutes, it would be time to quit. The boss man and his two sons pulled up in a brand new truck. They had the windows up and the air conditioning blowing. He parked the truck at the end of the road, reading stories to his Son, another white man pulled up to weigh the cotton that had just been picked. After he weighed it all, he gave my mother a small white piece of paper. She gave it to our boss man. He never opened his truck door or rolled down his window. A small compartment door came out with some money in it. My mother was not allowed to look up, stare the white man in his eyes. In those days, it was considered a sign of being uppity and didn't no white man put up with an uppity colored person. My mother took the money that he gave her and walked away. He blew his horn and waved for her to come back. He asked her did she forget something. My mother said, "No, sir." Then she repeated it, "No, sir." My brother and I could hear him screaming at her at the top of his lungs, saying, "You forgot to thank me!" My mother was so afraid, she said to him, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry." He looked at her with pure disdain in his eyes and said, ''That's better. See you tomorrow." All while this was going on, my brother and I could see his children laughing at our mother while their father looked down, seeking their approval. There was one thing that he and his kids did not know, if he had attacked our mother, he would have found out that he had just grabbed two tigers by the damn tail. My brother and I would've been all over him. My mother would not have been able to stop us. My mother was not concerned for her safety, she was afraid for Percy and me. Back in those days, white bosses had a gun rack in their trucks and shotguns and rifles loaded and set to fire. My brother, Percy, looked at me with angry eyes and said, ''Vernon, are you ready?" I said, "Yes, Percy. I'm ready." My mother said to me and Percy-and I'll never forget this day-she said, "This will not happen in my lifetime or your father's lifetime, but Vernon, a new day will come when you won't have to beg or get on your knees for no man. The time will come when you will be able to stand up straight and look them all in the eye." She began to recall a conversation she had with my father where he stated that if he had one choice to stand up straight and look a white man in the eye for just one day or to bow down on his knees and live for fifty years, he would take the one day of life. It was a long walk home, but we learned a lot that day.

Swenson presents an in-depth examination of the fracture of the church-state divide, challenges to the independent judiciary, resurrected 19th-century science and socioeconomic Darwinism, as well as revisionist history.

When Commodore George Dewey's Asiatic Squadron sailed into Manila Bay on May 1, 1898 to defeat the Spanish fleet, it marked a major turning point in American history. Aboard Dewey's flagship, Olympia, one very young sailor with a keen eye and agile pen was writing it all down. Having run away from home to join the navy in 1895, Jack Tisdale hoped that he would be lucky enough to land a berth aboard the Olympia—a modern steel protected cruiser and flagship of the US Asiatic Squadron. He ended up getting his wish, and a lot more than he bargained for. Originally published in 1908—a decade after the events described—Three Years Behind the Gunsis an amusing, gritty look at life aboard a man-o'-war at a time when the United States was on the cusp of becoming a great power. Though a memoir, the author writes with all the youthful exuberence of the age, describing his experiences with good humor and verve, even when they stretch the bounds of credulity. There are literal fish-stories here, such as when Jack captures a two-foot long flying fish on the deck, or when his shipmate nearly loses a toe while doing some illicit angling. But there are also descriptions of more somber events, such as the death of a shipmate during gunnery practice, or the midnight wreck of a Chinese steamer. Stories of his adventures at various ports of call are myriad, crowned by his unique perspective on the Battle of Manila Bay as a member of the crew of Olympia's main guns. Tisdale's ship, USS Olympia, still exists to this day as a museum in Philadelphia, PA, where visitors may see how the decorative wood paneling and furniture in the officers quarters contrasts sharply with the painted steel and spartan decks of her crew quarters and engineering spaces. Like the ship, Three Years Behind the Guns is a hybrid—part solid fact, part work of art. Such beautiful mementos of our bygone history deserve to be maintained if for no other reason than as concrete reminders of how we got here.