It's been 6 years since I have been on this journey; it's been 5 since it took a drastic change in direction. The saying "no matter where you go, there you are" is true, but true in a way that seems to defy its snarky tone. I am the same me, in my head, but to think that I am free from the labels, assumptions, and the context of my surroundings, well that's just folly. Our context determines our identity. Chimamande Ngozi Adichie precisely describes that shocking reality in the novel Americanah.
It is etched into both my brain and being that if I don't have anything nice to say, I need to keep my mouth shut. I wish that I had more nice things to say, I do, but honestly, these years have been the hardest of my life.
The inauguration of the new American president prompted my reflection on the meaning of a "post-truth" world.
You see, I've been learning about post-truth for the past 6 years. Indonesia continues to reel from a 32-year long authoritarian regime that impacted almost every aspect of daily life. Through laws, policy, dictates, and propaganda, the mindset of the greater society was altered. Once propaganda gets in the water and once people can be fooled or forced to believe it, it doesn't just "go away". William Faulker said the past is never dead, it's not even past. William Faulkner was right.
I've read on Facebook the ugly name-calling from all sides and, while I've never been one to shy away from a good argument in person, the depths to which my society and culture have plunged shock me.
We, just as much as anywhere else in the world, "developed" or "developing", are swimming in hate, judgment, and "othering" with dreams of salvation by a boss-man/authoritarian.
It's understandable; I mean, really. Wouldn't we all like to shut those damn idiots up? (whoever they are) Why don't they get the hell on out of here and back where they belong? (whoever and wherever they may be) And they sure are stupid! Idiots! (no matter how much education they have or how respected they are in their respective professions) And if they look like "us", but don't think like "us", the "They're not real Christians/Muslims/Patriots/Nationalists!" admonishment is hurled at the newly minted "other".
We've descended into a stinking bog of identity politics and for my part, I always thought that kind of primitive thinking belonged somewhere else.
Now I realize there is nowhere else.
It's a part of the human condition and the idea that some are more civilized, developed, or "modern" is a farce. My mother once said "wherever there are people, they're going to act like people."
We do indeed.
How dare I ever have thought that we were better? That our systems were better? That our way was better? There are people in power who seek to destroy and dismantle every single thing that made me think my country was great.
As a woman and a Southerner with open eyes, I know that injustice abounds, but being an 80's girl made me think that we were moving past our wrongdoings. We were going to be better. I thought that phase of our history was over.
But injustice is no phase. It is so very human. It always has been. To fight it, we have to be prepared to lose some things.
Lose our jobs,
Lose our self-respect.
Lose our ideas about civilization.
Lose our standing in the community.
Hell, lose our community.
Lose our identities, our privileges, our sense of being right, or for that matter, what "right" actually means.
You see, the systems that perpetuate injustice rely on our compliance, our silence, and even our cooperation. Systematic injustice is beyond a person or party. It's in the water.
Not falling into the gooey morass of societal norms means that sometimes we can't comply with what we're asked to do, we can't be silent, and that means, finally, that we won't be able to cooperate.
Sometimes, we just can't drink the water.
The Dakota Access Pipeline controversy, the "accidental" coal ash spills in the Tar River, and the lead in the water in Ferguson show that systemic injustice is in the water both figuratively and literally.
Systemic injustice is in the water, not just in the US, but everywhere.
To make a change, we have to learn to be thirsty. We will have to lose some things; some conveniences, some privileges, some income, but isn't it worth it?
John Stewart, the famous American humorist and social critic, said if we're not willing to act on our values, they're not values, they're only hobbies.
I want to say that acting on our values today means that we're going to have to learn to be thirsty.
And after 6 years, what do I know? Damnation, I'm thirsty.
At the Foot of Arjuno
Friday, March 31, 2017
Saturday, February 4, 2017
The Road That Brought Me...
This evening I had a refreshing conversation with a young woman I met at the 1 year birthday celebration of Gubuk Tulis, a local community group that supports and encourages reading and writing. www.gubuktulis.com
As the event wound down, she asked if she could ask me a question.
I said of course, but in my head I was thinking "oh gosh - somebody wants to practice their English...at 11 o'clock at night!"
"You seem like a person who loves Indonesia," she opined. I hesitated because I'm grateful and I appreciate many things, but love is a strong word. I guess I kind of looked to her to continue because I wasn't really sure what I should say.
"Well, specifically I guess it seems that you love Malang" she continued in her precisely articulated English. After a flash of appreciation and amazement for her language skills, I breathed a sigh of relief. Whew! That's easy and a good conversation starter.
We were able to talk about some serious things like opportunities to work, in general, to teach, specifically, but what we talked the most about was how, in her words "most white people do not love Indonesia."
The fact that she said "white people," oddly enough, was a welcome change for me because the word that is most often used in Indonesian is "bule." Bule means "white person" - or a white water buffalo, even - and sometimes people will say that it means "foreigner", but that phrase is "orang asing" and I've yet to hear of a white person being called an "orang asing" in conversations. We're "bule".
Listening to people dance around the justifications for using the term "bule" is tiresome and, so late at night, I just didn't want to begin a conversation centering on why I can live on foods other than bread and cheese and how the weather here, for me, is not too hot.
I was very pleased that this young woman was prepared to communicate honestly and openly.
Anyway, as I was saying, her directness and honesty were a breath of fresh air.
She shared that she once had a professor who couldn't stand it here, I'm assuming this was a white person even though the country of origin wouldn't necessarily be a clue, The professor, apparently, had mentioned the traffic, the burning trash, the low salary...
"Wait wait wait..." I interrupted. "She told you all those things?"
"Yes, and she's now in Jakarta teaching there" she replied.
"Oh Jakarta," I quipped "that's an improvement." (I try not to be snarky, but I am, actually, proud of Malang. This is my home.)
At this point in our conversation, I shared with her a story about a kind of rule that I try to follow. It goes like this:
The region I come from in the United States is called the South. We have our own culture and it's pretty different from what most people from other countries think of when they think of the US.
When I was growing up, I went to school with a lot of kids who had come there from other parts of the country. When I was still a child, I often heard from friends that "we" talked funny and "we" were backwards, I can still clearly hear the comments in my mind because I heard them so often and because, I believe, they are still common.
"Why is everything closed on Sunday?"
"Why are there no bagels around here?"
"Do you have any decent bakeries?"
"Why do you people put so much sugar in your tea?"
"Is everything fried?"
"Why do you guys cook all your vegetables to death?"
"I bet you don't know even where (insert name of country or Canadian province here) is!"
That was tiresome. And it still is. I've had more than my fair share of conversations with people from the "civilized parts" of America who still think the South is a backwater bog of inbred derelicts.
The common retort, as I got older, to the barrage of insults and denegrating remarks was "The road that brought you here will take you back!"
I guess because of that experience, I'm determined to never say bad things about where I live. Of course I see the things and experience the things that so many "white people" complain about. Everybody sees it. Everybody experiences it.
But I also see something else.
I see a community of people who have welcomed me. Where I used to live, it was common, even for adults, to point at me and screech "BULE!!!" That does not happen here. People actually treat me like a person.
I see a community of people who speak up for what they love and what they care about. The motto for the local football team, Arema, is Salam Satu Jiwa (Peace of One Soul). It doesn't only apply to the fans and the team, though. That spirit is in the water here and diversity is embraced and celebrated.
Malang has many big trees, sidewalks, efficient public transportation, and an engaged citizenry.
There are committed scholars, religious leaders, environmentalists, business owners, activists, and elected representatives who work to make Malang a place to live with a high quality of life for all its citizens.
And just as much, I know that the road that brought me here can take me back. I will not be that person.
My new friend and I had a nice conversation this evening and I'm glad that she initiated it. Sometimes I need to be reminded of good things, of how my own life experiences shape and form my present, and most of all, that there are still people in this world who care - about decent conversation, about learning something new, and making a new friend.
From Malang, Salam Satu Jiwa.
As the event wound down, she asked if she could ask me a question.
I said of course, but in my head I was thinking "oh gosh - somebody wants to practice their English...at 11 o'clock at night!"
"You seem like a person who loves Indonesia," she opined. I hesitated because I'm grateful and I appreciate many things, but love is a strong word. I guess I kind of looked to her to continue because I wasn't really sure what I should say.
"Well, specifically I guess it seems that you love Malang" she continued in her precisely articulated English. After a flash of appreciation and amazement for her language skills, I breathed a sigh of relief. Whew! That's easy and a good conversation starter.
We were able to talk about some serious things like opportunities to work, in general, to teach, specifically, but what we talked the most about was how, in her words "most white people do not love Indonesia."
The fact that she said "white people," oddly enough, was a welcome change for me because the word that is most often used in Indonesian is "bule." Bule means "white person" - or a white water buffalo, even - and sometimes people will say that it means "foreigner", but that phrase is "orang asing" and I've yet to hear of a white person being called an "orang asing" in conversations. We're "bule".
Listening to people dance around the justifications for using the term "bule" is tiresome and, so late at night, I just didn't want to begin a conversation centering on why I can live on foods other than bread and cheese and how the weather here, for me, is not too hot.
I was very pleased that this young woman was prepared to communicate honestly and openly.
She shared that she once had a professor who couldn't stand it here, I'm assuming this was a white person even though the country of origin wouldn't necessarily be a clue, The professor, apparently, had mentioned the traffic, the burning trash, the low salary...
"Wait wait wait..." I interrupted. "She told you all those things?"
"Yes, and she's now in Jakarta teaching there" she replied.
"Oh Jakarta," I quipped "that's an improvement." (I try not to be snarky, but I am, actually, proud of Malang. This is my home.)
At this point in our conversation, I shared with her a story about a kind of rule that I try to follow. It goes like this:
The region I come from in the United States is called the South. We have our own culture and it's pretty different from what most people from other countries think of when they think of the US.
When I was growing up, I went to school with a lot of kids who had come there from other parts of the country. When I was still a child, I often heard from friends that "we" talked funny and "we" were backwards, I can still clearly hear the comments in my mind because I heard them so often and because, I believe, they are still common.
"Why is everything closed on Sunday?"
"Why are there no bagels around here?"
"Do you have any decent bakeries?"
"Why do you people put so much sugar in your tea?"
"Is everything fried?"
"Why do you guys cook all your vegetables to death?"
"I bet you don't know even where (insert name of country or Canadian province here) is!"
That was tiresome. And it still is. I've had more than my fair share of conversations with people from the "civilized parts" of America who still think the South is a backwater bog of inbred derelicts.
The common retort, as I got older, to the barrage of insults and denegrating remarks was "The road that brought you here will take you back!"
I guess because of that experience, I'm determined to never say bad things about where I live. Of course I see the things and experience the things that so many "white people" complain about. Everybody sees it. Everybody experiences it.
But I also see something else.
I see a community of people who have welcomed me. Where I used to live, it was common, even for adults, to point at me and screech "BULE!!!" That does not happen here. People actually treat me like a person.
I see a community of people who speak up for what they love and what they care about. The motto for the local football team, Arema, is Salam Satu Jiwa (Peace of One Soul). It doesn't only apply to the fans and the team, though. That spirit is in the water here and diversity is embraced and celebrated.
Malang has many big trees, sidewalks, efficient public transportation, and an engaged citizenry.
There are committed scholars, religious leaders, environmentalists, business owners, activists, and elected representatives who work to make Malang a place to live with a high quality of life for all its citizens.
And just as much, I know that the road that brought me here can take me back. I will not be that person.
My new friend and I had a nice conversation this evening and I'm glad that she initiated it. Sometimes I need to be reminded of good things, of how my own life experiences shape and form my present, and most of all, that there are still people in this world who care - about decent conversation, about learning something new, and making a new friend.
From Malang, Salam Satu Jiwa.
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Cats Are Aliens
Having an open mind has always been important to me. I've tried to understand things from the perspectives of those with whom I disagree or can't understand. I try to catch myself making ugly judgments about things that I may not have all the information about and I like to think that I can change my mind, my actions, or my beliefs accordingly. This is a kind of special hell for an overthinker, but I must say that I'm feeling relieved that maybe I won't have to work so hard any more.
I mean, truly, why worry about what other people seem to be doing - actions may speak louder than words, but when we understand a person's INTENTIONS, we don't have to focus on their actions anymore.
So simple!
If someone says they're not racist or that what they did is NOT what it seems to have been, who am I to say otherwise?
I can't get inside their head and figure it out for myself, so I should just go with what what they say, or better yet, what other people say.
Easy peesy!
In that same way, what does it matter how my intentions are interpreted by others?
They need to try harder to see my perspective.
Maybe I just need to tell them that I'm smart and that I know what I'm talking about.
That should suffice.
I can back it up and there may even be friends who'd back me up, too. That's the new world and I believe it's going to be a LOT easier to get along since we don't have to think so hard. We can just look at things, decide what they mean, and move on.
If any explanation or reasoning (ARGH!!!! SCARY!!!!) gets in the way, we just have to remember:
things are never what they seem,
but they are always what we believe them to be.
I saw on YouTube a video that "proves" no disabled person was mocked by someone that many thinking people either love or detest.
What does thinking mean, anyway?
The definition of thinking: our brains are churning around and producing thoughts.
(Told you this new world's gonna be a piece of cake).
Everybody's smart! Everybody's dumb!
The days of dignity and decorum are O.V.E.R.
As Ted Nugent sang, "cause I got me a rock & roll band - it's a free for all!" WOOOOO!
I got a little rock and roll band. And they're aliens.
Some people seem to not like cats. They're too independent. They're evil. They actually hate you. Damn cats. Why can't they just do what I tell them to do? Hmph. Don't they know they're just animals? Some people eat animals. SMH. Anyway.
I saw on Facebook that cats can't resist a circle. They have to sit in them. Silly people. They said it's because they like to feel safe or something. Well, since I know all about cats and am near 'bout surrounded by them everyday, I know what they're really doing.
See, people don't hate cats because they're independent. People hate them because they're not people. Cats don't hate us because we are not cats, cats are just pissed off aliens.
Everybody knows that to go to a different place, we just have to step through a portal (I saw it in Warcraft and read about it in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe - just to name a couple of sources - there are many stories about portals between dimensions
- you can Google it.)
Cats are always trying to get back where they came from - that's why they're always getting in boxes and sitting in these circles. They were sent here to spy on us and thought they'd get to go back. ha ha. Stupid cats. Thomas Wolfe said we can never go home again even if sweet little alien angels are looking in that basic direction trying every portal possible.
Boxes, circles - I read a book called Star Dragon that says that cats are actually dragons that come from the sky. You know that the ancient tapestry in Bayeux, France shows Halley's comet and some people (didn't get to use THAT phrase in college, but this is so nice now!) think that aliens and dragons and comets are related. It just makes so much sense!
So cats are aliens and they want to go back, but they can't.
And if you thought they hated us before, worry not.
We should have it a bit easier for the next few years.
Now they know we can't go back either.
Suckers! ha ha
Friday, April 8, 2016
Cattitudes
Wooly Bully was actually a cat.
Flapjack, Applesauce, Mustang Sally, Hujan ("rain" in Bahasa Indonesia), Peter, and Simon are our cats. Four of them are known more commonly by their nicknames Jack, Saucy, Sally, and Johnny, Each one of these babies is a rescue. Each one of them came from the street...3 of them from the literal middle of the road (apparently that's a good place to ditch kittens when there are too many around the house).
While six is a lot of cats, I am happy to report that I know quite a few people who have more than we do, so I take some solace in that. The biggest thing that makes me feel not-so-bad
about the number of cats we have is the feeling that their lives are better now - safer, happier, and, I would also say that they know they have a good family,
Our cats are very Indonesian (or Javanese, maybe) and they are very serious about their "together time" (bersama-sama). It may take a little time for them to meet each other and get used to each other, but that phase usually
passes quickly and they become one family.
Jack is the big daddy of the family - when Saucy ran to Tatok as a small kitten almost 2 years ago, an older Jack was not far behind. He had been taking care of Saucy and was very protective of her. He still is. But more than that, it seems to be Jack's nature to be that way. One might think that Saucy would be a spoiled princess because she doesn't remember those hard times. She's not, though. She's shared the love she was given with countless abandoned kittens who've passed through our lives. She shares the love that she's received. I'm biased about these babies - I've never seen anything like it in my life.
And then along comes Sally. Mustang Sally, girl you got to slow that Mustang down! We had been taking care of two kittens abandoned by a neighbor when one suddenly disappeared. After combing the enclosed and walled-in neighborhood, we couldn't find her. I then allowed her sister, Tina, into the house so that she wouldn't be alone outside. A couple of weeks later, I awoke at 3 am to the cries of a kitten outside. Ever hopeful, I jumped up and ran outside to see if Sophia had returned. It was not Sophia, but a tiny kitten under a car across the street. With 3 kitten-cats inside, I didn't want any more, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to the one under the car, either. Why was she screaming so?
I watched from across the street as the trash men came - immediately she ran out and began to follow them on their rounds. Afraid that she would be scooped up and thrown in the trash trailer, I approached. Sure enough she was scooped up - and then handed directly to me. "Mau dia?" "Do you want her?" the man asked. Without thinking, I took her and we went inside. We sat in a chair together and she voraciously ran around my lap and intermittently snuggled in my neck. So full of energy and life. Mustang Sally had arrived. I didn't want to put her down with the others even though for some reason, she wasn't dirty or stinky. I got the small cage I use for found kittens and put her in with some soft food and a blanket. I let her sleep in my room so that we'd both have a little peace. Later, I'd introduce her to the others.
My cats are among the closest relations I have here. Yes, I'm blessed to have a small group of friends that I enjoy and feel I can trust, but these cats - well, they're like family,
When I see a cat - whether it's Johnny, Peter, or Simon - or even Saucy! - recoil in response to a simple gaze from Sally, I remember a term from Psychology class long ago.
Mental health professionals call that feeling "walking on eggshells" and it's used when describing life with a person who is emotionally or physically abusive, and who may even have what is called "borderline personality disorder".
Is Sally's behavior tormenting the cats who DO know how to get along and play nice? If I lived with a person who made others in the house feel scared and nervous like that, what would I do?
A comforting thing is that the difference between a human and a cat means that we can talk to people who act like that - we can reason with them. We can share how their behavior affects others, we can ask them to be considerate, to have compassion, to change.
Seems easy, doesn't it? But can you imagine a child asking a parent to calm down and not be scary? How about a wife to a man who uses her face as a punching bag? How about a husband who's scarred by rants of worthlessness and endless mind games?
Even if we are able overcome the power distance and to communicate the need for change, change isn't as easy as being asked - they have to want to change and nothing we say can MAKE them "be nice". In fact, when we're talking with abusive people about their behavior, many of them show the same kind of understanding and compassion that is mostly expected from an animal. Even a house cat.
And now I'm back to Sally.
Sally hasn't been fixed yet and her good days and good times are greater than her lashing-out times. She and Saucy will be fixed next week and I'll see if that makes her act nicer to the others. If she still walks around the house making the others afraid or if they run under the sofa when they see her approach, I'll have to do something.
I don't like bullies and I don't believe that a home should be poisoned by one who doesn't, or can't, realize the needs of others to feel safe and loved. Sally is loved and cared for just like the others, but a happy home is only as happy as those in it. Cowering in fear or walking on eggshells isn't the way for anybody to live, cat or human.
Flapjack, Applesauce, Mustang Sally, Hujan ("rain" in Bahasa Indonesia), Peter, and Simon are our cats. Four of them are known more commonly by their nicknames Jack, Saucy, Sally, and Johnny, Each one of these babies is a rescue. Each one of them came from the street...3 of them from the literal middle of the road (apparently that's a good place to ditch kittens when there are too many around the house).
 |
| Jack and Sally |
about the number of cats we have is the feeling that their lives are better now - safer, happier, and, I would also say that they know they have a good family,
Our cats are very Indonesian (or Javanese, maybe) and they are very serious about their "together time" (bersama-sama). It may take a little time for them to meet each other and get used to each other, but that phase usually
passes quickly and they become one family.
Jack is the big daddy of the family - when Saucy ran to Tatok as a small kitten almost 2 years ago, an older Jack was not far behind. He had been taking care of Saucy and was very protective of her. He still is. But more than that, it seems to be Jack's nature to be that way. One might think that Saucy would be a spoiled princess because she doesn't remember those hard times. She's not, though. She's shared the love she was given with countless abandoned kittens who've passed through our lives. She shares the love that she's received. I'm biased about these babies - I've never seen anything like it in my life. |
| Mustang Sally |
 |
| Sally and Johnny |
Sally was welcomed into the clowder of cats and they all got along well. Sadly, Tina fell sick with a respiratory illness and we lost her. About that same time, we had another kitten on the terrace that had been dropped in the middle of the street. Eventually, he too would join the group and they would all live happily.
 |
| Hujan ("Johnny") |
 |
| Jack, Sally, Johnny, Saucy |
I was determined not to have any more kitten-cats in the house. If I had to wear earplugs and blindfolds when out and about, I'd do it, but NO MORE CATS.
And then came Peter and Simon on Christmas Eve.
Coming home from church activities on Christmas Eve, there in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere were two kittens huddled into a mass that looked like a crumpled paper bag. When I got off the motorcycle, they ran right up to me and again without thinking, I just scooped them up.
Peter and Simon lived on the terrace for three months. Every morning at 6am or earlier, I woke up to feed them and to free them from their cage. They'd stay in the yard and play, but as time passed, they began to venture further and further away. Luckily, however, they'd always come when I called them. Our activities have us out of the house, and often it can be for four hours or more. After a trip to the vet, I decided to let them join the family inside. Johnny was overjoyed - he wasn't the baby anymore!
Sally, Mustang Sally, wasn't very happy about it, but I thought she'd come around.
She often growls and them and even takes a swipe at their little faces with gusto.
How could she act like this when she was raised with nothing but kindness?
Of course, if you're an American and reading this you're probably thinking "Charlotte, cats don't get along - they're jealous!" To be honest, I always thought that too, but that hasn't been my experience here.
Yes, six cats is a lot - six cats are probably too many in most contexts, but as long as they can be healthy, happy, and well-fed, I don't know what else to do.
And now back to Sally.
What should be done with one who doesn't want to consistently get along and play nice with others? How do we treat those who frequently and unpredictably lash out at others? How do we accommodate them?
It's funny how when we're talking about a cat, an animal, it may be easy to think that we can just "get rid of it". Give it away, put it outside, or even take it into the country and let it go.
But what do we do when people are like that?
Sally, Mustang Sally, wasn't very happy about it, but I thought she'd come around.
 |
| Sally, Jack, and Saucy (before) |
Saucy had accepted Johnny and Sally as babies - they cuddle with her and relish their esteemed positions. Jack oversees the clowder like a humble king.
 |
| Jack, Johnny, Saucy |
I had begun to notice, however, even before I let the little ones into the house, that Sally is kind of pushy. Sally, actually, might be a kind of cat bully.
She's sweet and she always apologetically looks at me when she pushes the limits, but with Peter and Simon, she was having a harder time.
She often growls and them and even takes a swipe at their little faces with gusto.
How could she act like this when she was raised with nothing but kindness?
Of course, if you're an American and reading this you're probably thinking "Charlotte, cats don't get along - they're jealous!" To be honest, I always thought that too, but that hasn't been my experience here.
Yes, six cats is a lot - six cats are probably too many in most contexts, but as long as they can be healthy, happy, and well-fed, I don't know what else to do.
And now back to Sally.
What should be done with one who doesn't want to consistently get along and play nice with others? How do we treat those who frequently and unpredictably lash out at others? How do we accommodate them?
It's funny how when we're talking about a cat, an animal, it may be easy to think that we can just "get rid of it". Give it away, put it outside, or even take it into the country and let it go.
But what do we do when people are like that?
"Oh, that's just how she is - you have to be patient"
"He's just a man and you know they act like that"
"He's your father - you have to respect him"
"You need to be patient and understand that they don't have the same back ground as you - they're less educated and from the country"
"She brought you into this world - it's her right"
My cats are among the closest relations I have here. Yes, I'm blessed to have a small group of friends that I enjoy and feel I can trust, but these cats - well, they're like family,
When I see a cat - whether it's Johnny, Peter, or Simon - or even Saucy! - recoil in response to a simple gaze from Sally, I remember a term from Psychology class long ago.
Mental health professionals call that feeling "walking on eggshells" and it's used when describing life with a person who is emotionally or physically abusive, and who may even have what is called "borderline personality disorder".
Is Sally's behavior tormenting the cats who DO know how to get along and play nice? If I lived with a person who made others in the house feel scared and nervous like that, what would I do?
A comforting thing is that the difference between a human and a cat means that we can talk to people who act like that - we can reason with them. We can share how their behavior affects others, we can ask them to be considerate, to have compassion, to change.
Seems easy, doesn't it? But can you imagine a child asking a parent to calm down and not be scary? How about a wife to a man who uses her face as a punching bag? How about a husband who's scarred by rants of worthlessness and endless mind games?
Even if we are able overcome the power distance and to communicate the need for change, change isn't as easy as being asked - they have to want to change and nothing we say can MAKE them "be nice". In fact, when we're talking with abusive people about their behavior, many of them show the same kind of understanding and compassion that is mostly expected from an animal. Even a house cat.
 |
| Mustang Sally |
I don't like bullies and I don't believe that a home should be poisoned by one who doesn't, or can't, realize the needs of others to feel safe and loved. Sally is loved and cared for just like the others, but a happy home is only as happy as those in it. Cowering in fear or walking on eggshells isn't the way for anybody to live, cat or human.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Where Talk is Cheap, Honesty Comes at a Premium
...or as a former employer often, often said "Ooooh - that kind of development is cost prohibitive. We can't do that." He meant that the cost outweighs the benefit and therefore, couldn't reasonably be done, but what he really meant was that he didn't place a value on whatever he deemed "cost prohibitive". That excuse never flew with me because the money he wasted on trifling things would have more than covered those deemed "cost prohibitive".
In short, there's no way to hide your values. Be prepared to live with them or don't have them at all.
Today marks the 5th year that I have been in Indonesia. I arrived in the morning on January 20 after 3 days of travel time; two layovers of 11.5 hours lengthened the trip, but on the first, I was able to wander around Frankfurt, Germany's historic district and that was a good thing.
I've been trying to think of what to say about these 5 years for a while and I honestly don't know. There's too much and I constantly sift out anything remotely negative.
Growing up in the South, there was never a shortage of "outsiders" complaining about it. "Why is everything closed on Sunday??" "You don't have any good music here" "Why are there no bagels anywhere?" "Why do you talk like that?" "None of you people are really educated..." "The South is so backwards"
In addition to fighting off self-loathing and questioning the validity of such negativity, the easiest thing to do was to say "Well, if you don't like it, leave." "The road that brought you will take you back." "Don't let the screen door hit you where the good Lord split you"
As soon as I was old enough and able, I returned to the city of my birth to reclaim "my territory", but even there the questions to determine the validity of such came in the loaded question "where'd you go to high school?"
It would be easy, then, to say that I've never really felt like a had a place, so I don't feel much more out of place here than anywhere, but one thing's for sure: life just ain't the same when you can't just blend into the crowd. I have a brand new awareness for what it means to stand out based on skin color alone. Anybody who doesn't think that microaggressions and assumptions deny human dignity has never experienced it - it doesn't have to be mean, it's just that nothing needs to be discussed or understood because everybody already knows (and by that I mean they THINK they know)
What happens in the US happens all over the world, I'm sure. It's the same, but different. If I go on about that any longer I'll be writing a chapter of the book I should write and not just a blog post, so I'll leave it at that.
Over the past 5 years, I've been faced with opportunities and challenges to live my faith, test my values, and remember who I am.
My five year reflection is as follows:
- living in accord with values is not easy
- nothing makes you know who you are faster than knowing who you're not
- no matter where you go, there you are
The American values of hard work, perseverance, freedom, independence, and honesty may very well be a recipe for disaster outside the American context, but I guess I'll find that out when the time comes. Right now, I'll just keep on keeping on in faith and with love, as best I can.
In short, there's no way to hide your values. Be prepared to live with them or don't have them at all.
Today marks the 5th year that I have been in Indonesia. I arrived in the morning on January 20 after 3 days of travel time; two layovers of 11.5 hours lengthened the trip, but on the first, I was able to wander around Frankfurt, Germany's historic district and that was a good thing.
I've been trying to think of what to say about these 5 years for a while and I honestly don't know. There's too much and I constantly sift out anything remotely negative.
Growing up in the South, there was never a shortage of "outsiders" complaining about it. "Why is everything closed on Sunday??" "You don't have any good music here" "Why are there no bagels anywhere?" "Why do you talk like that?" "None of you people are really educated..." "The South is so backwards"
In addition to fighting off self-loathing and questioning the validity of such negativity, the easiest thing to do was to say "Well, if you don't like it, leave." "The road that brought you will take you back." "Don't let the screen door hit you where the good Lord split you"
As soon as I was old enough and able, I returned to the city of my birth to reclaim "my territory", but even there the questions to determine the validity of such came in the loaded question "where'd you go to high school?"
It would be easy, then, to say that I've never really felt like a had a place, so I don't feel much more out of place here than anywhere, but one thing's for sure: life just ain't the same when you can't just blend into the crowd. I have a brand new awareness for what it means to stand out based on skin color alone. Anybody who doesn't think that microaggressions and assumptions deny human dignity has never experienced it - it doesn't have to be mean, it's just that nothing needs to be discussed or understood because everybody already knows (and by that I mean they THINK they know)
What happens in the US happens all over the world, I'm sure. It's the same, but different. If I go on about that any longer I'll be writing a chapter of the book I should write and not just a blog post, so I'll leave it at that.
Over the past 5 years, I've been faced with opportunities and challenges to live my faith, test my values, and remember who I am.
My five year reflection is as follows:
- living in accord with values is not easy
- nothing makes you know who you are faster than knowing who you're not
- no matter where you go, there you are
The American values of hard work, perseverance, freedom, independence, and honesty may very well be a recipe for disaster outside the American context, but I guess I'll find that out when the time comes. Right now, I'll just keep on keeping on in faith and with love, as best I can.
There's a city in my mind
Come on and take that ride
It's all right
Road to Nowhere - Talking Heads
Monday, December 21, 2015
Christmas. The End of "Should"
I want to talk about blame. I want to talk about punishment. I want to talk about people getting what they deserve.
...BUT wait...this is Christmas, you say. Why are you going to talk about that depressing stuff again, Charlotte?
Because Christmas - the birth of our Savior - ended that cycle. Let me take that back - it was SUPPOSED to end that cycle; the cycle of scapegoating, blame, and punishment.
Let's think for a second.
Mary SHOULD have been stoned, you think? She was a young, unmarried, woman...it took some angels and a BIG star to get people to realize that she wasn't just pregnant with any ol' baby, but a savior. I want to know why she didn't get "what she deserved" sooner....how did that happen? Is that why she was so far from home and had to journey back to register? Did she have to go away so that no one would know?
What about Joseph? He SHOULD have left her high and dry - pregnant with a baby he didn't make...he SHOULD have left her.
But he didn't.
And the shepherds? The lowest of the low on the social rung? Why were they the first to know? Surely a more important person SHOULD have known first, but God chose the humble shepherds.
Christmas is a time to celebrate the birth of our Savior who turned the world of SHOULD on its nose. A King, born in a stable? He SHOULD have been born somewhere clean, warm, and surrounded by family - not with strangers in an animal enclosure...
All of those people with "no room in the inn", they SHOULD have made room for a young family with a baby on the absolute way.
God sent His Son into a world to turn it over - to rock it and make people remember that what SHOULD be isn't always the way that it IS.
Peace on earth is about remembering that we all live in the grace of God. There's no differentiation between who SHOULD be blessed and who SHOULD not - God loves His children. Each and every one. Christmas is a time to free the captives, feed the poor, and be redeemed.
If we can't let go of the desire to punish and dole out the treatment that people SHOULD get, then maybe we're not ready to celebrate the birth of a Savior who came not to condemn the world, but to save it.
Monday, October 26, 2015
Chillin' with the Gusdurians
Affectionately known as Gus Dur, the former president was an outspoken advocate for peace and pluralism. He was a respected religious leader and scholar, humorist and humanitarian. He wrote hundreds of essays on topics ranging from the mundane, day-to-day happenings in pop culture to complex reflections on international affairs and democracy.
Gus Dur passed away in 2009, but his spirit lives on in the many intellectuals, students and scholars, as well as everyday people, who continue to reflect on his ideas and philosophy.
One such group is the Gusdurians. The Gusdurians are a national body with local chapters and international affiliates who focus on nine, primary points of Gus Dur's thinking. These nine points are: the unity of God, humanitarianism, justice, egalitarianism, liberation, brotherhood, simplicity, noble acts/chivalry (this one is harder to translate as the Indonesian word, keksatriaan, refers to the qualities expected of a knight), and finally, local/traditional wisdom.
Gusdurians do not worship Gus Dur, but rather consider and apply his thinking to everyday life; especially in how to best serve our communities, as well as each other, acting from the foundations of our own respective religions. It is a value-based community composed primarily of students, but also a goodly portion of adults, that reflects respectful scholarship, community engagement, and empowerment, and most of all, friendship and brotherhood (and sisterhood!) in a real-life example of pluralism and unity.
It is my honor and happiness to be a part of the Gusdurian community of Malang, Garuda, as we all seek to learn, grow, and serve together in doing what we can where we are to make the world a better place.
Over the past year, we have participated in multiple interfaith peace-building events ranging from workshops and informal group discussions to musical performances and advocacy initiatives that reflect the principles of the Gusdurians.
Gusdurians Malang leads the way by not only talking about peace, but living it, as well.
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