Message of Love

Had I known it would have gone viral, I would have saved a copy for myself. However, we never know how the things that we write will be used…even obtained, so I won’t be so harsh with myself for not saving a copy for my own records. It was handwritten, on an irregular sized sheet of paper; very spur of the moment, it was. Naturally I wouldn’t have imagined that I’d need to make a copy of such a thing.

Who knows now where the copies are; however many there were, and honestly, it hardly matters. It was months later before I even discovered the popularity of my heartfelt sentiments. All I know is that it must have been pretty spectacular, even though I don’t really remember what I said. What I do know is that whatever I said last year is at least as true as it will be this year, but this time I’ll be more proactive. I’ll publicly share a message of love myself.

When I first came here, I thought that this island would be permeated with love. After working years and years to purge myself of repressed anger, a quick temper and judgement, I believed that I was ready for the experience that I would find here; arriving with an open heart, an open mind and a trusting spirit.

Little did I know, at the time, that love as I knew it, doesn't really exist here. Appreciation and individualized concern are non-existent, for the most part. You are only as valuable as the role you're expected to perform in society. Those roles are partially determined by beliefs that are agreed upon by the community at large. In other words, expectations are based on a communally determined belief system. Now, it matters little if this is "true" or not, what matters is that everybody believes it. Mass belief makes it so.

I do not exhibit the characteristics based on the expectations for the roles I was or am to perform. I never have. Divorced. Former single-parent. Ecumenical. Eat rice, hot things, fried food. Temperature doesn't bother me. In short, I don't match the expectations for a teacher, an American, or even a Christian. 

Now. I've been struggling with that for over 2 years. Most recently, for the past year, anyway, I've been on the receiving end of a hate campaign. I'm not saying that my actions don't warrant a little, ahem, reflection, both by me and others who may or not be involved, but the difference is, in a system of expectations as I described above, there is not only NO chance for dialogue, but there is also no opportunity for anybody to LEARN and to grow from life experiences. 

I'm thankful for my immediate community of neighbors and friends who do not conform to external dictates of social expectations and are full of love (in the way with which I'm familiar). It is because of them, and in particular, my Valentine, that I remain here. 

For further information, 

my previous blog posts describe everything that 

I've just touched on

... in one way or another.

Now, back to Valentine's Day. Every day for me is Valentine's Day. I have big love in my heart and in my life. I constantly struggle with the expectations, the objectification and the judgements that are not only thrown in my direction, but in the direction of friends and loved ones who are also not conforming, either by choice or circumstance, to social expectations.

As I mentioned, my sweet, handwritten Valentine note was widely distributed last year. It would be nice to think that it was done as an example of what love, true love, sounds like. 

This year, my handwritten letter of love, I am quite certain, will not be reproduced and shared without my knowledge, but as an act of remembrance, I'll share the following.

Happy Valentine's Day. May every day be one of unconditional love, honor and respect. 

May we love people, and use things, not the other way around. 

May every human being; woman, man and child feel safe, appreciated and honored in their intimate relationships. If not, may we all have the courage and compassion of St. Valentine, to defy the social edicts and honor love; the most basic of human needs and the foundation for a "good life" full of appreciation, peace and compassion.

Message of Love, The Pretenders

..the reason we're here

as man and woman

is to love each other

take care of each other

when love walks in the room

everybody stand up

oh, it's good, good, good!

...look at the people

in the streets, in the bars

we are all of us in the gutter

but some of us are looking at the stars (Oscar Wilde)

look 'round the room

life is unkind

we fall, but we keep getting up

over and over and over and over...

Me and you, every night, every day

We'll be together always this way

The Culture Vulture

“Lions, wolves, and vultures don't live together in herds, droves or flocks. Of all animals of prey, man is the only sociable one. Every one of us preys upon his neighbor, and yet we herd together.” 

John Gay

When I wrote the title to this blog, I only sought to rhyme something with culture. After choosing "vulture" and then finding the quote from the British poet and dramatist, John Gay, it sadly seemed to fit perfectly for what I wanted to say.

I've been reading a lot about culture. As I've said repeatedly, I spend more of my time being confused than anything else. Part of the reason, I've discovered, is the difference between high-context and low-context cultures as first presented by anthropologist Edward T. Hall in his book Beyond Culture (1976) (thanks, Wikipedia)

The United States is, for the most part (except the South, my region*), a low-context culture. That means that we spell everything out. We leave little to the imagination and shun assumptions. We speak directly with lots of words. We don't expect others to know the context from which we're speaking in order to understand what we need to say. We spell it out. Teaching English and helping people with English has made me very aware of this. We have so many words; each with different, subtle meanings. For example, some form of praise, accolades, appreciation, honor, admiration could all be used in this sentence: 

Her singing was met with highest _________. 

Each word is a bit different, but really all the same. We have lots of ways of saying the same thing. We might use praise in a joyful religious or ceremonial occasion, accolades in a government or military event, appreciation if the singer is respected for one reason or another, honor if the singer is an admirable person, admiration if the singer has overcome some obstacle. Of course, it's not necessary to think of those words in that way, but it's possible. It adds context to the meaning we're trying to convey.

Indonesia is a high context culture. Things only make sense if you are acutely aware of the context from which they come. Unfortunately for me, this often means a requirement to make assumptions, judgements and guesses. (It is not a good thing for me to make assumptions. I can guarantee that they won't be nice.) Therefore, I'm confused most of the time. The word I use most often to describe this phenomenon is "indah". That word can mean majestic, wonderful, beautiful, intriguing, lovely, spectacular, etc. I'm sure it can mean many other things, but what I have to realize is that I have to know what the common belief is about whatever is "indah" and apply that particular meaning to the situation being described. That's what makes it difficult. The context is determined by popular belief or common assumptions with which an individual may or may not agree. You see, what an individual experiences or believes is always "at the mercy", if I may, of what the group has determined is appropriate or legitimate. Using expressive speech is not common. English was created and has evolved to promote expression. I may think that someone is wearing a lovely blouse, so I think to use "indah". I've been told, on many occasions when I think I should use "indah" I should use "bagus" (good) or some other word.  So, friends, I am frequently confused. 

The point here is that there are commonly accepted beliefs that effect everything. From the way words are used, or not used, to the way people are treated. Everything is based on what has been socially determined as the benchmark.

Growing up in a culture that absolutely abhors "following the crowd", "keeping up with the Joneses", and "buckling to peer pressure", not to mention being a bit different anyway, and then living in a place where we have to do all those things to get along is VERY difficult. I still wonder how after the 3 psychological assessments I had to take as part of my mission co-worker vetting I was still chosen to come here. (That's where the call part comes in and I still believe that, by the way. Obviously, I'm still here.)

In spite of all this confusion, I've met many Indonesian people with the same concerns. They're not confused, of course, because they understand the context. 

But they're hurting.

“To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting.”

ee cummings

It's not OK to be different. It's not OK to think differently than other people. It's not OK to go against commonly held beliefs and traditions. It's not OK to "be yourself". It's not OK to be smarter (unless you're smarter in the way that it's ok to be smarter in, whatever that happens to be). It's not OK to stand out. (innovate, experiment, create)

Maybe this sounds like whining, but it's hard for someone who's not Indonesian to comprehend. In reality, every single entity serves to reinforce the culturally accepted norms and there's nowhere to go. Family and marriage (Do what we want you to do. You owe me/us. Men are "just men". Women are like that. Children need to listen. Deal with it. Hitting? Abusing? It's OK - just don't get divorced!) University (Critical thinking skills? No value. Memorize. You'll study in the area of your presumed aptitude. Teachers know EVERYTHING. No questions.) The Church (We must sacrifice just as Jesus did. We practice "pure religion". We must act and look a certain way so that people will know who we are - an aside - I always believed "They'll know we are Christians by Our Love" ...

See what happens when I make assumptions??? Whoops. Sorry. Must practice cultural sensitivity....

I always struggle with culture. As I've said many times, I come from the South. My region is the poster child for many things that are, or were, wrong with America. Slavery. De Jure racism. Violence. Fundamentalism. Guns. (Just to name a few.)

But it is never OK to blame our actions that inflict pain on others as our culture, our traditions or "our way". If a cultural tradition hurts someone, it is not just a tradition, it is wrong. Just like buying and selling another human being. Just like separate but equal. Just like telling women to return to their angry, battering husbands. Just like anybody who says that "women are just that way" in response to abusive women. Just like shooting somebody because they made us mad. 

I believe that we can pick and choose from our cultures and traditions; what is uplifting, what inspires, what is kind. 

As I said, The South is a hot bed of wildness, but you know what else? It is one of the most diverse regions in the country. People whose ancestors once fled are coming back. We've dropped the evil legacies of the past and are promoting what is good. Love one another. Hospitality. Kindness. Hard work. The best food in the country!  

Cultures and traditions don't have to be lost. 

But hurting people in the name of your culture or traditions? Well, that's got to go.

* Wikipedia notes that The South is an anomaly; that even though it's in the US, we're a high context culture. I had to think about that a bit and yes, I guess so, but we still operate within the dominant culture of low context...and we only speak "our" way with "our" people; we know "outsiders" won't know what we mean when we say somebody's "acting like trash", for example. One thing for sure, the context with which I'm familiar and unspoken is, like every culture, unique to itself. That being said, the fact that I also come from a high context culture does little good in this high context culture.

A Whole New World

Today I've decided that I will no longer refer to myself as an English teacher.

Yes, I earned certification in 2009 and have, until recently, taught since then; additionally the maternal side of my family is LOADED with all kinds of professionals in the field of education, so there's a genetic disposition, as well. My favorite thing about teaching is the students, without question. I love to see their faces light up when they make connections, understand something that had confused them forever, or realize that they can experience a whole new world with this awesome ability...

(was this song written about ENGLISH??? yes, I'm a little dramatic, but it popped into my head SO...)

For me, it comes down to what everything always comes down to for me: Love.

I love the English language. I love the versatility, the power because it's spoken in so many places around the world, the adaptability, the WORDS (so many!!!), and the subtleties and implied meaning that color its magnificent superiority for contextualized,  individual expression.

The downside is that there is a common belief that English represents the white, white, West. This belief is strong, even though English is one of the official languages in many countries that are not majority white and decidedly not in Europe or North America!

Of course, colonial history plays a role.  I do not downplay or ignore the adverse impacts of past (and present) indoctrination efforts based on myths of cultural superiority, but I'm talking about potential. I'm talking about opportunities. I'm talking about ownership. I'm talking about empowerment. The English language empowers.

Not only does speaking English as a second language look good on a college application, but it allows a person to build relationships with people from around the world, it opens the door to a vast library of new information, and it's flexible enough to be contextualized; maintaining the integrity of the culture in which its used. Pronunciation is rarely an issue; native speakers have different accents and dialects, idiomatic expressions and implied meanings. Most of all, the English language is a living, growing, and evolving entity that is forever changing to meet the needs of the millions of users around the world. English is truly an international language.

It's rather obvious, then, that I love the English language.

But I'm not an English teacher. I don't have a set syllabus that I use for classes. My lesson plans aren't in ready-reference binders on a book shelf. I have to look up grammar rules faster than my students. I can't really remember what a dangling participle is and I surely can't diagram a sentence. But I know the power of the language and I know how to use it effectively.

So, starting today. I'm not calling myself an English teacher anymore. From now on, I am an

English Language Enrichment Advisor

(...or E.L.E.A., for a nice, "POP-y" sound bite)

Many people around the world begin learning English at a very young age by professionally trained teachers who teach grammar rules and all the foundational matters necessary to begin a life of speaking English. What they sometimes miss is the empowerment. The joy. The whole new world that becomes accessible to them through their new English skills. I've decided that's going to be my job.

I know English grammar. I can correct sentences, explain concepts and steer a student in the right direction, but more importantly, I can share the keys to the library; implied meaning, literature (!), introduce critical thinking skills and academic writing concepts, as well as to build confidence in speaking and expression. 

English is less representative of a country or perceived ethnicity, but more about expression, relationships and even innovation. It is truly a global language for everybody. 

And I want to share the love.

Feminist, Traditionalist or...Humanist?

I always considered myself to be a feminist, even if I hate labels, just because I believe we are strong, we are legitimate, we have multifaceted characters, and we have the right to equal pay for equal work. And I don't need anybody to do anything for me that I can't do myself. More pointedly, I guess if I follow the sentiments of Rebecca West , I am most definitely a feminist:

"I myself have never been able to find out what feminism is; I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or a prostitute."

Perhaps I am a bit of a traditionalist, though, too. I believe that a mother should love and nurture her child or children, I believe that a wife should honor her husband, and I believe that when we choose to have a family, or a career, or both, we should do our very best. All the time.

I do not believe, under any circumstance, that it is ok for a mother to hit her offspring.
I do not believe that a woman should pretend to be weak to get sympathy, assistance, or anything.
I do not believe that a woman should intentionally harm another human being; male, female, child, friend - anybody.

I believe in love.
I believe in faith.
I believe in confidence.
I believe in treating each person as an individual; with gifts, characteristics and beliefs specific to who he or she is as a human being, regardless of "group" membership or labels.
I believe that we have a responsibility to "take the high road", to think beyond our own limited experiences and to share kindness randomly, freely and with no expectation of anything in return.

When I was younger, I used to think that women were inherently better than men; more thoughtful, more capable, having a greater capacity for good.

I was wrong. Just like men, women are human beings. None of us - of any group, gender or identification -  is inherently better than anybody else.

Women can be evil. Men can be compassionate. Truly. We can all feel pain and we can all inflict it, albeit the manners of such can be different.

Domestic abuse has always been a big issue for me. Like many other people, the pictures of battered faces and bodies of female victims have sickened and angered me at the same time.

Physical abuse is the more obvious kind of domestic violence and it is horrific, tragic and evil.

Emotional abuse is less obvious because the battered body parts are on the inside rather than out. But believe me, the damage is no less severe.

Emotional abuse is no less painful. No less harmful. And the kicker is that anybody can master it. Small people, big people, women, men. Anybody.

We can all get sidetracked into believing that the only "real" abuse is physical violence against women.

We need to develop an awareness that abuse can take many forms and have many lingering effects.

Men and children can be the victims of an emotionally abusive woman just as quickly as a woman can be the victim of an abusive man.

It's just harder to see. Harder to catch.

And often harder to understand, especially when we tacitly believe that women are kinder, gentler people.

Because it's taken me a while to put the pieces together and develop an awareness, it seems to be that I'm not a feminist at all, nor am I a traditionalist.

I believe in basic human rights for all people. Adults and children. Everywhere. Does that mean I'm a humanist?

I'm glad I don't like labels because I don't want to figure that one out!

I believe that every human being has the right to be loved, to be treated with respect and kindness.
I believe that it is never right to raise a hand against another person. (I'm still struggling with that if someone hits me first...I'm not too sure I'd be able to turn the other cheek...)
I believe that no one is inherently better than another person, especially for attributes outside of one's control such as gender, race, ethnicity, age, nationality.

The downside of all this is that I have to admit that women can be as cruel as men were thought to be.
And so does everybody else.

New Year's Eve Reflection

Music has always been a foundation for me. It's been my go to source of comfort for many years...as I've said before, it often goes hand in hand with my faith and my relationship with God.

As is typical for me here, I am in a constant state of confusion. Contradictions abound and it often seems as if the only way to make peace here is to conform to behaviors that are antithetical to what I believe; dishonesty, objectifying others, making assumptions...these things are negative to most Western people, but here they don't seem to have the connotations that we (Westerners) employ for them...so...internal conflict. Having this awareness threatens to pull me back into a realm of cynicism from which I thought I was permanently free.

Anyway, this morning I bowed my head into deep and serious prayer.

"Dear Lord, please help me. I need you. I'm slipping. Please take me up. Please don't let me fall into negative thinking, hatefulness and prejudice. Please" 

I prayed that over and over until I felt His hand.

Then I turned on my iTunes. Shuffle. The first song that played, Light My Way from Audioslave.

And I'm tired and depressed 

And when my mind goes astray 

Won't you light my way 

Don't save it for another day 

Won't you light my way 

Thank You. I thought You heard my plea. The second song? Red Hot Chili Peppers. We Believe.

To see the bird without a care

For in a word it's nice out there

In a tree my mama bear

Will be all right with proper care

Hey hey, hey

Boomerang into a bigger bang

A little cry of love because they cannot sing

The motive, the measure

The purpose, the pleasure

The risk, is it worth it?

The disc, is it perfect?

I found you amongst them

The flower with young stem

Disparage, the broken

We Believe

That was nice. The last song that was in the message rotation was Blood Red Skies by Judas Priest. I knew this was the last one because the timbre had changed. This one is a pick and choose for meaning. But the point?

If that's my destiny, it'll have to be

So I'll face the future

Running out of time

I'm on the line

But I'll go down fighting

Felt the hand of justice

Telling wrong from right

Threw me out upon the street in the middle of the night

Never surrender

As the sun goes down

I won't give in to fear

2012 was a difficult one for me; many beliefs, much trust and openness, much of my capacity to love was challenged. I regret none of my decisions. I know that I do things that rock the status quo. I believe I'm supposed to do that. I believe that sometimes we get stuck in ruts from which we can't escape until we learn that we can. Some people have to get out the rut to show others. We never have to live in ways that are imposed upon us and cause pain...and we are never, ever, ever supposed to accept, without question, institutions that are supposed to provide a place of refuge for the broken or love and safety for the members to be used to hide abuse, exact human-initiated punishments and impose the maintenance of a status quo that is fortified and strengthened through fear, judgement, and threats.

As human beings, we're not perfect. To assume that we can be is the height of arrogance. I don't want to be angry. I don't want to feel hurt...but more than that, I don't want others to feel that way either. And I'm not tired yet.

My Charlie Brown Christmas Tree

As many of my friends in the US know, the season of Christmas is my favorite of the year. I love the festivities, the special music at church, thoughtfully selecting just the right gift for friends and loved ones, as well as splurging on those I don't know whose names were taken from an angel tree or other similar place,  and certainly, my Christmas tree.

My collection of ornaments include old ones from my childhood, Azze's ornaments from her childhood, and many cool and unique ones I've picked up over the 20+ years of being an adult. In addition to the sentimental ornaments and the Christian inspired ones that fill the branches of my trees each year, I've amassed a collection of animals - owls, a giraffe, a tiger, frogs, a gorilla, parrots, animals of beaten, colored tin from Mexico and many, many more. Creating a focal point of love in my Christmas tree has always been a favorite activity of mine...and I miss it.

My tree, Christmas, 2010

When I first moved to Charlotte in 1991, my Christmas decorations were little more than some special items on a small table with ornaments taped to the wall adorned with red ribbons, but every year after than, no matter what, we had a big ol' Christmas tree...in the early years, I would drag that big tree up the stairs to my condo, all by myself for Azze was still a little child. In short, I've had a big, beautiful, aromatic Christmas tree for 20+ years.

Last year, my first Christmas in Indonesia, I only had a bit of Christmas cheer in the form of decorations in my house, but I was OK with that. We all know the first year is the "one" that is a little different.

Decorations, 2011 (that's Javanese Jesus in the middle...)

For this year, I knew that I needed to prepare with a large houseplant that I could use. Evergreens exist here, but are a bit expensive and not quite the same as what I usually have, so flexibility is key. The plants that we in the US are accustomed to using in our homes are the ones that grow freely here, so finding something that would thrive inside the house was a challenge...a challenge to which I surrendered, I might add, because I had experienced failure a few times and I don't like playing with living things that way. I decided to buy something this year and call it good.

The trees I see most here are artificial with balls and garlands. There are some exceptions that are unique and creative, but in the rare instance when I see a tree, because they are artificial with no "sentimental" decorations, they usually are not what I think of when I think of a tree.

A tree made of coconut husks in a very popular store...a refreshingly thoughtful interpretation

This year, I looked around a bit for a real tree or plant that would survive inside for the month. In addition to being a bit expensive, I just wasn't feeling the pull to try and make something like that work.

I saw a picture on Facebook of a very simple decoration, 4 or 5 limbs attached to a wall with lights and some simple decorations. I thought it perfect - I'd try that.

Scavenging in the open area that is my "front yard", I collected some sticks to use. The open space in the front of my house is one of my favorite things about being here and since this is the last Christmas I'll spend in this house, I thought it appropriate to use things from around here.

The beautiful cluster of bamboo trees in front of my house, gazed upon lovingly by my friends Kelly and her husband, Ganda.

Sometimes when we can't have exactly what we'd like (I'm not rolling in money this year, so I'm employing a little known tactic of financial restraint this season) we have to think of creative ways to express what we need to express in alternative ways.

After the sticks I collected were assembled, I thought that just attaching them to the wall insufficient. Why not a standing, 3D tree? No green, of course, but at least the shape could be there. Soon, with the help of my very best friend, I had a dimensional "tree"...

Isn't that a sweet "tree"?

Such a "tree" as this can't handle a lot of heavy decorations, not in weight, but in principle. I had put together some little paper ornaments from batik wrapping paper and used them first...I took some paper plates that I used for gatherings last year and assembled a tree topper with the thought of the star, but also the meaning of Christmas...when love came down. Picking random things from around the house and backed by a string of lights attached to the wall (I had to tape SOMETHING to the wall, after all - it just wouldn't be the same if I didn't) my "tree" became my tree...

I'll still add some green garland, maybe...but I think I'm finished. When I look at my tree, I appreciate the simple things, but most of all, I appreciate what this season means to me. The gift of love upon which we Christians have built our faith. The coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, who came to save the world, not condemn the world and who told us, in no uncertain terms, God loves us.

Merry Christmas to all and may love fill our hearts this season and always.

This year, my decoration staple...adorned with tokens representing those I love and hold in my heart every day....

Sharing and Caring

Today I happily joined (for the second time) an awesome group of smart, talented and professional teachers who, in addition to those qualities, share another: They love their students.

We will get together regularly to discuss best practices, challenges, opportunities and advice to help students learn English.

Many teachers here teach at more than one place, and as a result, have a wealth of knowledge to share and much experience.

Today we talked about different ways to encourage and motivate students, as well as practical ways to respond to the varying competency levels that are often commonplace in an English language learning classroom.

One of the things that inspires me the most about this group is the sincere concern for the well-being, emotionally and intellectually, of the students. This group teaches, or has taught, students of every age, from diverse socio-economic backgrounds, and of varying competencies. One message was quite clear today: the students need to know that we care and that we love them. We're not there because we know everything or we're so awesome. We're there because we care.

And we're going to regularly spend time together to share, learn and grow so that we can do the best for our students.

Currently, I am not teaching formally in a classroom. I am committed to taking some time to improve my Bahasa Indonesia, getting a better grip on the nuances of this complex culture and developing my teaching skills.

I am so thankful for this group of people who have invited me to participate in this awesome and love-filled endeavor!