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!

Macan. (Little Boy) TIGER!

When my cat Raden Jinjibu Kartini died from apparent rat poison a few months ago, I decided that I understood why so many people here won't get really attached to their pets like we do in America. It's a rough life here for animals. Too many things can kill them. The stories abound of dogs being poisoned, cats eating poisoned rats or poisonous frogs and dying...

Macan (front) with Kartini not too long before she died...they finally would get close to each other, though no love yet...

Today Macan died. It seemed to be poison, as well. I tried a new approach with him. Kartini had been fixed and was a bit spoiled - I tried to let Macan go natural...and spoil him as much as I could, but I thought maybe he'd have a little more immunity if I didn't tamper with his natural ways much. Oh well.

Macan came to me much as did Kartini. I wasn't looking for cats, but they found me when they were maybe 5 weeks old...Macan may have been a bit older than Kartini when he found me, but not by much. My friends and I had gone to eat and when we got out of the car, a little cat was basically screaming at me to come talk to him. I did, then left him to go eat. After I finished dinner, he was at my feet, meowing again. My friend said that I should take him home - the owner of the place handed him to me and that was that. He was a good boy, sweet and loved to be held. His little feet would just dangle and he'd nuzzle into me. Very sweet boy!

Macan had two homes - here and with my neighbors. He was well-loved and well taken care of. My neighbor, with whom I had already chatted about his sudden illness, had been nursing him with coconut water and milk. She seemed to think he was improving, but not. This evening she called me to tell me he had passed. I quickly went over and we buried him soon after.

I am very blessed with the love of my neighbors and with the sweet cats who came into my life. I think that I'll be careful about getting attached to any more animals...I hope no more want to come home with me, but if they do, I'll give them the best life I can because they deserve it, no matter how long they're here.

RIP Macan.

Peace Begins at Home...

...the Season of Advent begins on Sunday, December 2. I've got my lectionary ready and I'm preparing my heart for this lovely season of gratitude, grace and The Word made flesh.

As a part of my preparation, I have to get my heart right, but I've been having some trouble. Even though I feel less stressed than I've felt in a couple of years, and even though I am happy and see a bright future, I'm having trouble letting go of the past to fully embrace my future.

Throwing Out the Trash

Now at the ripe age of 44, I can happily report that my regrets are few. Sure, I've made decisions with consequences completely incomprehensible for some, but I have no regrets about those. The only thing to this day that I can actually say I regret is the way that I treated two friends; one when I was about 16 or 17 and one when I was about 27 or 28.

She was like a sister to me. I loved her so much. A little younger, I was kind of like a big sister. When she made some friends that I didn't think were "good enough" for her, I gave her hell. Yep. Purely. "What are you doing with those people? They're not..." fill in the rest with all kinds of socio-economic status BS and anything else ugly, I said it. Over and over. Harassment is the correct term. It ruined our friendship. We never rebuilt it. Of course, we stayed friends over some humps and bumps, but we lost what we had. And it was my fault.

The second person is also like a sister to me. She helped me so much as I struggled through college as a single-parent. We were friends and she often babysat my daughter. Without her, my college years would have been markedly different. I knew when my daughter was with her and her family, she was loved and well-taken care of. That's something that can't be bought, borrowed or stolen and I am forever grateful. Some time passed and my friend and her husband were having trouble. Shortly before they separated and divorced, she was involved in an affair. As a newly married and optimistic wife, I couldn't deal with the misery and strife in her life. I distanced myself...for years.

These two tragedies show that I let people go, nay, I cast them off and threw them away, like things not people.

I never paused to think that my "little sister's" new friends might be awesome. 

I never stopped for a minute to think that maybe my friend's husband had been physically and emotionally abusive throughout the entirety of her marriage and she was in pain.

The bottom line contains two segments.

First, I had no compassion for two people I loved. I had no capacity for understanding. No ability to reach beyond myself and no comprehension of what loving someone means. They did something I didn't agree with and that was it. And it was it. I treated two people I loved like family like trash. I've since apologized, but the damage is done. When someone in your heart and life "throws you away", it can never be the same.

Second, my friends did NOTHING to harm me, hurt me, violate me or in any way abuse me. They simply chose to do something that I didn't believe in, even though it was actually none of my business and had no impact on me whatsoever. In the position of judge, I overstepped my boundaries as friend and confidante. I was wrong.

I was wrong.

When I chose to leave home; my daughter, family, friends and community, it wasn't because I was out for some adventure. Most people who know me know I would've headed south if adventure was what I wanted. I discerned a call to come to Indonesia. I prayed. I reflected. I read. I followed. And I continue to do so. 

I believed that I was entering into relationship. I thought I was nurtured in the binds of mutuality and accountability. I'm not perfect, but I did expect that if I made a mistake, real or perceived, somebody would at least ask me what I was thinking. Why did I do it? I'm a responsible, usually respectful person. If I do something weird or out of character, wouldn't you think somebody would try to find out why? I anticipated an opportunity. An opportunity to share. To shed light on something really ugly that I uncovered and brought to light. But no.

The weight of social angst pressed down. People I thought were friends were gone. What I thought to be a relationship was really just a position. And I was no better than trash. Thankfully or unfortunately (depending on your perspective) I understand it all, because I've done it, too.

But I was wrong.

The Opportunity

Love people, use things. Not the other way around.

I've developed a whole new sense of compassion. I thought I pretty much knew everything; safe in my solid values, beliefs and social traditions.

We are all just human beings. None of us are perfect. There are things that we (culturally) agree on that are always wrong and that makes is easier to dwell upon our assumed plateau of inspired perfection.

But when we are free to realize our humanity - to embrace it, to move beyond labels and perceptions, the rights and wrongs, the expectations and judgment, we are more free to share love. And we are also more free to receive the gift of God's grace. We can understand the significance of The Word made flesh.

Being human is not easy. We are an imperfect lot. We've been called to love God with all our heart, mind and strength and to love our neighbor as ourselves. If it were an easy thing to do, I believe Jesus wouldn't have spent so much time focusing on it. The fact is it's hard, but it's not impossible.

That's what I'm going to focus on this Advent season:  how I can be a part of building the kingdom based on love right here. It begins with kindness. It is not selfish or arrogant. And it never rejoices in the wrong. So I'm not going to focus on the wrong.

Not my wrong, not your wrong, not their wrong.

I'm going to focus on the light of love. And The Word made flesh.