Today someone I respect and that has done great work said that quote to me, "You don't mess around, do ya?" which was followed by a hand motion to be like a train. It's not the first time that someone has made such a motion or said something similar. Today though I was definitely reminded that such a way of being isnt for everyone, that some find it not only overwhelming, but that it disarms them and makes the space weird, like something was said that put them in a vulnerable position (and no one wants to be feel vulnerable when THEY, themselves, dont decide to be).
Anyway, so I was thinking about her comment and the directness for which I was guilty of and realized that she was right. I am direct and sometimes, I need to let things go and not ask the hard questions. That it just might be that people know that there are hard questions but arent in need of someone calling them out on them. Their idiosynchonicities are their way of acknowledging those issues and keeping themselves safe. And, who and I to judge? I hate being called on things. I want to be a better listener and recognizer of the defenses people have, to know when is the time to help them recognize something, to drop their wall and when it is better to let it be.
That being said, while I dont think it is always my role to break apart people's defenses, it is sometimes, right? As a teacher, I should sometimes, I think. I mean, it is when we question what is happening and who is accountable that we are able to grow. So, where is the line? I need some direction here cause today, I crossed it I think. I tore the wall down and there someone stood naked. Then what the hell was I supposed to do? Even I hadnt thought that far ahead. Save face, of course. The very same thing they were trying to do in the first place. Aye, karumba!
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Monday, June 18, 2012
Thoughts about MicroLoans
After being bumped to first class on my flight from Atlanta to Monrovia, West Africa (Yes, you heard me right!) I was pleasantly surprised to sit next to a man from Liberia who was returning after spending two years at Harvard studying finance and in particular, microfinance loans. Ive heard of these things, sending a cow to a family and in exchange they pay for the cow through the milk it provides and after the loan is paid, the cow and the rest of its bounty goes for the family. Then there is the loans for sewing or small shops that occurs here in Liberia. Specifically there are hundreds upon hundreds of small shops that are all selling the same thing, trinkets such as hairbands, plastic shoes, knock off purses from China.
As a large port city with over 1.7 million, Monrovia exploded when the LRA (Rebel Army) came to the villages. At the time, only about 500,000 lived in the city and as the child soldiers came to the villages and killed for food, destroying everything in their path, they left the people starving. So, as time passed, the people had no choice but to move to the city- they were starving.
And thus, we have a city at crazy capacity, with not much resource (nothing to export) and well, povertous people who, at 40 now, lost everything at 20. Its been only 6 years since the war.
Back to MicroLoans: So according to this gentleman the microloans here are used primarily to buy "knock offs" and to set up small stores. The problem is that these stores are all very similar and the haggling and sheer numbers mean that although they will eventually pay the loan back (repayment is about 80%), they didnt make enough to sustain their future but instead just made it to the day they were out of stuff As such, they repeat the experience with another loan. His thought is that they need to understand investing, saving for the future I got it and he as pretty damn brilliant and it is interesting to see, now that I am in Liberia, what it really looks like and how such ideas really do affect the people.
As a large port city with over 1.7 million, Monrovia exploded when the LRA (Rebel Army) came to the villages. At the time, only about 500,000 lived in the city and as the child soldiers came to the villages and killed for food, destroying everything in their path, they left the people starving. So, as time passed, the people had no choice but to move to the city- they were starving.
And thus, we have a city at crazy capacity, with not much resource (nothing to export) and well, povertous people who, at 40 now, lost everything at 20. Its been only 6 years since the war.
Back to MicroLoans: So according to this gentleman the microloans here are used primarily to buy "knock offs" and to set up small stores. The problem is that these stores are all very similar and the haggling and sheer numbers mean that although they will eventually pay the loan back (repayment is about 80%), they didnt make enough to sustain their future but instead just made it to the day they were out of stuff As such, they repeat the experience with another loan. His thought is that they need to understand investing, saving for the future I got it and he as pretty damn brilliant and it is interesting to see, now that I am in Liberia, what it really looks like and how such ideas really do affect the people.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
on my way to Africa...Again?
So, I am headed off on another adventure, this time to West Africa; Liberia to be exact. Who gets to go to Africa twice in a lifetime? Me! While Liberia is not the country of South Africa wherein the rhinos walk and lions roar, it is a place with much needed care and consideration, one which is often not only not locatable, but forgotten. I head off this time to work in the schools, to help the Liberian teachers give the ability to read to the pupils they care about, but feel unfit to help. I cant help but think of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs wherein food and shelter are our most basic. When we dont know where our food is coming from, how can we concentrate on the sounds in a word? When our stomachs are rolling and our heads full of lice, how do we worry about the spiritual growth of our children?
And thus, I know I will return to the unknownst gluttony of the United States with both an affinity for my country and thankfulness that I was lucky enough to be born there and an overwhelming sense of guilt: I have too much, I work too hard, I need nothing. It is hard to return home after a trip like I am about to have and conflicting emotions will run through me. In all though, there is never a trip I have regretted, never a memory from a trip I am saddened to have had. Even the bad ones change a person, give them more depth, more understanding and somehow more love.
I wish everyone could have the experiences of seeing those that have so little and love so much, those that have everything and yet feel empty. Trips, such as this one, remind me of the amazing rights I have as an American citizen and of the incredible gifts that my birth in America, to parents who were citizens of a country that enabled them to provide for me everything I needed to be powerful, thoughtful and most important, able to succeed.
Obama just gave a 2 year wait to illegal immigrants who have lived productive lives in the US for over 5 years. I believe that people who want to come to the US shouldnt have to do it as illegals, they should be able to come, to work, to make a better life for themselves and their families. If they work, pay taxes, and lead citizened lives, why shouldnt they be allowed to come here? Why should I guaranteed better/ more rights just because I was lucky enough to be born here? I believe the US believe in the rights of all people: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all. You come here and work, pay taxes and dont engage in crime, you can stay because we want hard workers, people on the up and up, people who contribute to the betterment of society. The label of "illegal" is the problem. It causes people to hide, be paid in cash, scared to pay taxes, go to school, buy a house If we decriminalized it, welcoming those who contributed positively, I believe it would all change.
People need to help others, to recognize that being an American gives them unalienable rights, and with those rights comes big responsibilities. I am off on one of my American responsibilities: Help others with the knowledge you have. This time, it isnt at my college or at a conference for educators. It is in the wetlands of Western Africa, where the people want the best for their children and their children's futures, but were born into a country where there is very little chance for the pursuit of happiness, liberty and possibly life.
And thus, I know I will return to the unknownst gluttony of the United States with both an affinity for my country and thankfulness that I was lucky enough to be born there and an overwhelming sense of guilt: I have too much, I work too hard, I need nothing. It is hard to return home after a trip like I am about to have and conflicting emotions will run through me. In all though, there is never a trip I have regretted, never a memory from a trip I am saddened to have had. Even the bad ones change a person, give them more depth, more understanding and somehow more love.
I wish everyone could have the experiences of seeing those that have so little and love so much, those that have everything and yet feel empty. Trips, such as this one, remind me of the amazing rights I have as an American citizen and of the incredible gifts that my birth in America, to parents who were citizens of a country that enabled them to provide for me everything I needed to be powerful, thoughtful and most important, able to succeed.
Obama just gave a 2 year wait to illegal immigrants who have lived productive lives in the US for over 5 years. I believe that people who want to come to the US shouldnt have to do it as illegals, they should be able to come, to work, to make a better life for themselves and their families. If they work, pay taxes, and lead citizened lives, why shouldnt they be allowed to come here? Why should I guaranteed better/ more rights just because I was lucky enough to be born here? I believe the US believe in the rights of all people: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all. You come here and work, pay taxes and dont engage in crime, you can stay because we want hard workers, people on the up and up, people who contribute to the betterment of society. The label of "illegal" is the problem. It causes people to hide, be paid in cash, scared to pay taxes, go to school, buy a house If we decriminalized it, welcoming those who contributed positively, I believe it would all change.
People need to help others, to recognize that being an American gives them unalienable rights, and with those rights comes big responsibilities. I am off on one of my American responsibilities: Help others with the knowledge you have. This time, it isnt at my college or at a conference for educators. It is in the wetlands of Western Africa, where the people want the best for their children and their children's futures, but were born into a country where there is very little chance for the pursuit of happiness, liberty and possibly life.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
My Man
So, I have shied away from my blog since my grandma's death. Something about writing my thoughts made me cringe, as if the last time I sat blogging it was at her bedside and it seemed too much to think about. But, she isnt coming back in person and most of you who know me know that I would want her to zombie or to haunt me. My thoughts of her plague me enough. As her life ended and all of the wonderful stories she used to regale me with about living in Chicago, Houston, Missouri (pronounced Mousura for her), WWII, Gpa, the Richtones, her dogs, and her life in general, I came to understand something really important: her life was about her family. Now, I dont just mean blood family, but those in our lives that choose to be a part of it for whatever reason and weather the good, the bad, and the worst and hang in there. I decided I was going to be more conscious of mine, especially mine in San Antonio where I currently reside.
So, I decided to start dating again. Now, let me get this straight, I hate dating. I feel like each person sends their representative to the table and after months, one realizes this other person isnt who you thought he was. Im sure that goes both ways, I too am not what they thought. So, I decided I would go out and be myself, mouthy, know-it all, fun-loving, adventuresome, wholesome, loving, pensive self. And, I met a man named Wayne.
Wayne is a fun-loving man who loves to travel and even in the 7 months I have been dating him has been to Ireland albeit for 4 days! He is a warehouse manager for the Energy Company and while he makes no money he loves his job. It has tested my belief that "I just need someone who loves his work and goes to it everyday" line item. He loves his job but works hourly and the lack of funds does bother me. I think it isnt so much that he makes nothing, but that he makes nothing and is fine with it, that his goals dont go further than the warehouse cause he likes it there. So, I have been trying to manage my thoughts about it. He is right when he says he has had higher paid work that he hated and would rather be paid squat to do something he likes. I cant tell though if it is truly that he loves it or if he thinks he cant find something else. Anyway, he loves to eat out (my personal favorite) and loves movies. In fact, he is a move know-it-all. So, we have seen some good ones this summer as I am off work. I do like going to movies but hardly have in my life. I know nothing about pop culture and movies. So, I am learning some here and there. He seems to genuinely care about me though, yet doesnt suffocate me, nor make me feel bad when I have to work. Much discussion has occurred concerning the amount of work I do, most of it from his end assuring me it is okay. I still feel like it isnt. Thus, I have been making a conscious effort to balance with him and work some better. This last month as summer came on I saw him 18/31 days so that is good. The biggest issue for me is that when we are together we talk so well and time leaves us. Soon, a dinner that was supposed to be an hour or hour.5 is 4 hours. He loves my dogs and even kept the crazy Zoey over night last week while I went to Austin to have dinner with Diane and shop for shoes with Loretta. He took her to Starbucks and to McDonalds and bought her her own chicken sandwich. The way to a schoodle's heart is through her stomach...ok, whose kidding, my heart too. He cooks (and actually, I have yet to cook for him cause he actually likes to cook!). He is good man I think and I feel lucky to know him.
So, I decided to start dating again. Now, let me get this straight, I hate dating. I feel like each person sends their representative to the table and after months, one realizes this other person isnt who you thought he was. Im sure that goes both ways, I too am not what they thought. So, I decided I would go out and be myself, mouthy, know-it all, fun-loving, adventuresome, wholesome, loving, pensive self. And, I met a man named Wayne.
Wayne is a fun-loving man who loves to travel and even in the 7 months I have been dating him has been to Ireland albeit for 4 days! He is a warehouse manager for the Energy Company and while he makes no money he loves his job. It has tested my belief that "I just need someone who loves his work and goes to it everyday" line item. He loves his job but works hourly and the lack of funds does bother me. I think it isnt so much that he makes nothing, but that he makes nothing and is fine with it, that his goals dont go further than the warehouse cause he likes it there. So, I have been trying to manage my thoughts about it. He is right when he says he has had higher paid work that he hated and would rather be paid squat to do something he likes. I cant tell though if it is truly that he loves it or if he thinks he cant find something else. Anyway, he loves to eat out (my personal favorite) and loves movies. In fact, he is a move know-it-all. So, we have seen some good ones this summer as I am off work. I do like going to movies but hardly have in my life. I know nothing about pop culture and movies. So, I am learning some here and there. He seems to genuinely care about me though, yet doesnt suffocate me, nor make me feel bad when I have to work. Much discussion has occurred concerning the amount of work I do, most of it from his end assuring me it is okay. I still feel like it isnt. Thus, I have been making a conscious effort to balance with him and work some better. This last month as summer came on I saw him 18/31 days so that is good. The biggest issue for me is that when we are together we talk so well and time leaves us. Soon, a dinner that was supposed to be an hour or hour.5 is 4 hours. He loves my dogs and even kept the crazy Zoey over night last week while I went to Austin to have dinner with Diane and shop for shoes with Loretta. He took her to Starbucks and to McDonalds and bought her her own chicken sandwich. The way to a schoodle's heart is through her stomach...ok, whose kidding, my heart too. He cooks (and actually, I have yet to cook for him cause he actually likes to cook!). He is good man I think and I feel lucky to know him.
Chicago
After coming back from Vancouver (AERA) and recovering just barely 4 days, I headed to Chicago for the International Reading Conference. I was going to be staying with my dear friend Janne and visiting a city I have never seen, but heard SO much about. My back ended up givng out and I had to come home early, but the one day I spent in the city was fantastic! We saw The Chicago Museum of Art which is currently my favorite museum in the world and much more! 
Vancouver
Went, had a great time at Granville Market, eating mussels with Diane and Jody and talking school with Marva, Patricia, and Caroline, visiting the Capilano Suspension Bridge and walking blisters on the bottom of my feet! It was grand! 
Then, to save some cash, Jody and I took the train to Seattle and had more amazing fun with ourselves and Sunny (who came in from Korea) in Pike's Market, Fluevog, and in the rain. Joyous times at the end of the semester! Screw work!
Then, to save some cash, Jody and I took the train to Seattle and had more amazing fun with ourselves and Sunny (who came in from Korea) in Pike's Market, Fluevog, and in the rain. Joyous times at the end of the semester! Screw work!
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Willow
With the passing of Gma, one of things that had to be discussed was Willow, her sweet terrier companion and steadfast friend. But, there wasnt much discussion because my best friend Loretta, who had been keeping her since mid August stepped up and said, "You know, I just knew I was going to end up with her and I want to keep her." So, there it was. Willow would be an Austin dog (lucky thing). In the last days of Gma's life much was said about Willow. Grandma asked about her several times a day, "What is Willow doing," "Tell me about Willow in Austin," and "Call Loretta and ask about Willow" was commonplace. Grandma had taken on Willow after Gpa's death as the last connection to him. Gma was worried what would happen to Willow and wanted money to be left for her care. As such, a trust fund was set up and even my horrible Aunt agreed. So, LoLo is now a trust fund baby.
12 year old Willow now has a new lease on life. She acts like a puppy, jumping around for walks and dinner, jumping on the couch and snuggling next to Loretta. She wears a thunder-shirt when it rains and is held by Loretta to ease the leftover fears. She goes to work at WaterLoo Counseling Center where Loretta is the Executive Director about 2X a week. She even has an office chair and a sign in. She does races (as per the picture) and had dog friends who she says hi to on walks. She eats frozen green beans as treats and snores. She is such a blessing to Loretta and I, but specifically to Loretta who got the chance to have a dog, a GOOD dog, who absolutely adores her. Dont get me wrong, she still loves her GiGi, but she is a Loretta dog now.
I feel so lucky to have a friend like Loretta who so willingly took on the task. My whole family is thankful, but most of all, I think Willow is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)