Racial Stereotyping

When I saw this picture in Lakeshore catalogue, a place that sells educational products, I silently engaged in this string of thought:

"Yeah my Chinese friend Suzi Lee dresses like that every day and that Latino doll totally epitomizes my sister-in-law, Ruth.  Definitely, for-sure all Native Americans look just like that, and my two students from Africa totally rock that pictured wardrobe.  And all the Japanese kids I know have that exact hair style and live their every day lives wearing that kind of red flowery outfit."  

It's exasperating how print media perpetuates stereotypes.  It's particularly maddening that this page comes from an educational catalogue.  But that's beside the point.  The real issue here is racial stereotyping is wrong and it's important to talk this out - with each other, and with our kids.  When my kids saw this catalogue tonight, the first thing they said was "oooooooh" and they spent a few minutes eagerly scanning the book of novel items.

They got to the page above and I stopped them.  It took less than 10 minutes to have a brief conversation about racial stereotyping where I voiced my disapproval of it, and why it's important to critically examine what they see and hear and witness people doing in the media.   Comparing the images they saw on that page to the people they know in real life was important.   

You're right, Suzi Lee doesn't dress in that traditional gown all the time, and Auntie Ruth does not wear a traditional Mexican dress every day, either . . . And for the record, Chamorros do not wear grass skirts and coconut bras.

Just another in-the-moment opportunity to fill our personal bank account with knowledge against discrimination, racism, and stereotyping. 

Kill 'em

I had one of those brief heartening moments today, a moment I want to bottle and give away jar by jar. Brad took John-Pio skiing so Misa and I spent the day doing practical things - cleaning, birthday party, organizing, and homework. As she put the final touch on her journal entry, a routine she does for better or for worse, she closed the book with a deep sigh.

It started with, "I'm nervous about going back to school tomorrow," and continued for several minutes more of painstaking revelations about how hard it is to be nice, even when other kids are not.

What a battle it can be to hone in and just listen, to resist the urge to advise and relate, take sides and give her all the answers to such a universal problem. But I listened with deep empathy seeping out from my bones, because I know - just like my mom and dad taught me - that to really understand and give perspective, you have to lay down your arms and simply listen.

Misa finished venting. I sat quietly holding her in my lap because she's still willing and little enough so I can, and I asked her what she was going to do about this.

And just like that, as if she was the character Vennelope in the charming movie, "Wreck-It Ralph," (my new favorite movie, by the way), she said quite pragmatically,

I'm just gonna keep killing 'em with kindness.

I couldn't tell if it was her resolve or a forced solution in an effort to get through her emotions quicker, but it was sweet. It reminded me that for young people (and adults too, no doubt), relationships and friendships can be built on that basic virtue of being a nice person, even though it can be exhausting, sometimes without much in return.

In the end, Misa and I talked about possibilities. I told her there's always the curse of "This might not work" nestled in the back of the mind.  That curse though, can also be a blessing - a way to believe that in the midst of all that she was feeling, her attitude of killing 'em with kindness could forge something unexpected.

That old lesson from my little 9-year-old is already helping me ease into my week a little lighter and with a lot more optimism.  I'm just gonna keep killing 'em with kindness is a good old-fashioned mantra.

Goodbye 'isms

In the spirit of the New Year, and as if it's already the season of Lent, I've decided I'm giving up 'isms' in 2013.

Cynicism.

Sarcasm.

Pessimism.

And any other 'ism you can think of that promotes passivity and resistance.  And hate.  I hate Hate.  I think passivity and resistance together is lethal.  Instead, 2013 is a good year to think critically, question those in-charge, and mostly, keep people with these -isms at a distance.  In the wake of the aftermath from 2012 - a year of many good things, sprinkled with substantive struggle for a lot of us,  I still believe that the propensities for human goodness is everywhere.

So long 'isms.  If we meet again, I'll work my damnedest to get rid of you.

I'll be seeing more of you this year Peace, Altruism, Resiliency, and Compassion.  Happy New Year to my devoted and loving husband, and my spirited children!

[I said goodbye to my hair in 2012 and donated those locks to Pantene - a great way to lighten up for the New Year . . . ]

Time to Plot

Winter vacation.  Just the time for plotting and planning the places I want to climb, and the means to get me there.  I spent a good part of this morning looking at the front covers of these guidebooks . . .

Instead of thinking about the means, I reminisced instead and thought about all the climbs I've done in some of these places and why I want to go back.  Wyoming, Utah, and South Dakota have interesting terrain, but the real reason I want to climb there again is because I have such vivid memories spending time with people I adore and trust.  And I wouldn't mind getting back on some of the classic climbs I feel I made my personal mark on.  

I couldn't find the guidebook for Shelf Road or Clear Creek Canyon, but those are two areas where I would go back to in a heartbeat.  Plus, I have some unfinished business there.  Hueco and Rocktown and other places down south are top on my list if only I could convince myself and my bank account that quick weekend trips might be all I could manage at this point in my life.  

I love guidebooks!  

And I love winter vacation because some of my best scheming comes from this down-time.  Aside from  thinking about climbing, family trips, and weekend outings, there's also that marathon I'm running in June.  

I almost forgot about that.  

I love vacation, guidebooks, and plotting!  

To Be Catholic

I've gone the cycles of wrestling and reconciling being a Catholic most of my life, and I admit that it's a hard thing to escape.   I've practiced the rituals and spiritual traditions of this faith for so long, I feel bound to it - like I have a responsibility to it, like I have a stake in being Catholic.

Frankly, I feel Catholic.  I really do.  My parents are Catholic, most all my Chamorro relatives are, and there's a huge world population that identifies with being Catholic.  When I had Misa and John-Pio, it was without question that they would be raised in the Catholic church, and currently, I've lived up to my self-induced responsibility from both a family and cultural standpoint.  They attend catechism every Sunday, we make the sign of the cross before and after prayer, and they identify themselves as "Chamorro Catholics."  In fact, they are so close to their godparents whom they refer to as "Uncle Nino," and "Auntie Nina," that they might have forgotten that their first names are actually Geri and Peter.   Their experiences have led them towards a belief in what Catholics believe, and attention to how Catholics practice.

I'm proud of how my kids have been influenced as Catholics, but more than that, I'm proud to raise them to be discerning and thoughtful about how they go about living out their spiritual and religious lives.  It can be such a hard line to tow these days here in Madison, especially because Bishop Morlino and I have never seen eye to eye, and I've been discouraged and outraged by his recent call to dismiss and punish the good works of others.  I'm not so shallow as to let this represent all of what it means to be Catholic, as actions and decisions by the religious have long had an effect on my conscience.  Admittedly though, Bishop Morlino leaves a bad feeling in my being.

I could not fake the season of Christmas without being open regarding this latest issue with Bishop Morlino.  I didn't want to go through a mass with him celebrating, and I was plotting the church we would attend for Christmas mass based on where he was not.  Frankly, for the past few weeks, I was feeling cynical and angry.  And one thing I know about these two emotions is that when I go there, I have to consciously wage that battle with myself to push through and out of it.

Over dinner one night a few weeks ago, I brought up the work being done by Wisdom Well . We looked at their website together and I shared about the retreat experiences I had with them when I first moved to Madison.  Then I shared the story published in the newspaper about Bishop Morlino's admonition against them.  Our discussion was frank and instructive, and closed with my personal sentiments about his decision and why I believe what he has decided was wrong and is still wrong.

And that was that.  I breathed a little easier.  My cynicism and anger lifted.  My kids chocked up another contribution to their developing consciousness.

I still didn't feel like going to a Christmas mass where he was celebrating.  So we went to another Catholic church on the isthmus with an amazing choir filled with harmonic and angelic sounds.  It followed all the goodness from the morning surprises and laughter of delight, and was especially heightened when, in the middle of the service, John-Pio leaned over to whisper in my ear, "This is really quite a fun mass, Mama."

That was just the boost I needed to feel Catholic all over again.

Following Up

Days have passed and I'm still thinking about the people of Newtown, CT.  Some thoughts as Brad and I were talking  . . .

1) I want an assault weapons ban
2) I want a background check and waiting period before buying a gun
3) I want mandatory training for handgun safety
4) I want ammunition controls
5) I want government monitoring on large gun purchases like they do for fertilizer and black gun powder, now)
6) I want incentives to turn in weapons when the owners die
7) I want mental health monitoring
8) I want funds for mental health outreach programs
9) I want to find the loners, and I want people to help report loners
10) I want people to be brave and confident to be part of a "see something, say something" program

In all, I want us to make the gun culture uncool.  Use advertising, media and pop culture to stamp it into people's minds that guns are uncool.

That's what's on my mind.

Heaviness

I didn't feel the heaviness until I actually entered my classroom.  We kept the same routines and scheduled and saved time later in the day to talk about about the loss of 20 children and 7 adults and how Newtown, CT is changed forever.  

I believe it's safe to say we are all changed.

Heavy sigh.

One of our students sobbed while we showed the CNN video which was a lesson designed for students as a way to talk about the tragedy.  So visibly heartbroken, this young adolescent exclaimed:  "I don't want to talk or see or think about this anymore."  

A parent called and the first thing he said was, "Hey Ms. Naputi.  How are you holding up?  How are all you teachers doing there?"  That lump in my throat - the one I carried as I walked into the class, returned.  I heard it said that the blood relatives of kindness are compassion and consideration.  I certainly felt that from this parent.

And from all our students on our team - I felt their heaviness and saw their faces when we showed the slideshow of those sweet lovely children.

I'm exhausted today, but I'm going to rally.  Tomorrow is a new day with renewed hope and optimism that our nation is going to get better - I won't bring up the issues now because I'm still grieving and thinking about the children, the teachers, the school psychologist and the principal.  I'm still praying for the families and the community of Newtown.  But soon, I will write what I believe must be done so that this horrific event is never, ever repeated.  Ever again.  Ever.

Blessings to us all.