In the paper this morning, I came across an interesting commentary about Obama and his "blackness." In the Herald, it was titled, "Democrat winner is actually not black, he's just not white." Written by a UK journalist, Yasmin Alibhai-Brown, it has some important thoughts on race.
We base a lot of importance on external appearance. I guess it's the easiest and quickest way to judge people. It's so unfortunate though. Not that I have not fallen into that category. Whether it's race, weight, attractiveness, style, confidence, it's something that can be seen in a few seconds from the outside.
If I've learned anything here, it's that we are all the same. My students have similar backgrounds, similar pains, similar stories. Underneath it all, we are all human. Why not judge people for what really matters: kindness, honesty, integrity?
If nothing else, those little mixed race children are usually the most attractive ones in the room. Let's celebrate diversity. I'm proud to support our first mixed-race candidate for president.
Monday, June 9, 2008
By the numbers
2: Countries of residence
3: Watches from ex-boyfriends
3: Houses purchased
4: Weeks vegan
5: Days til my 32nd birthday
5: Pairs of glasses owned (one green, blue, white, brown, clear)
6: Months without a TV
6: Months walk commute to work
7: States lived in
11: Years in optometry (if you count when I first started school
25: Years without my dad
31: Countries visited
32: Years having fun in the world
"To get a deep sense of satisfaction is to live a life where your talents are used in accordance with your values." - Caroline West
3: Watches from ex-boyfriends
3: Houses purchased
4: Weeks vegan
5: Days til my 32nd birthday
5: Pairs of glasses owned (one green, blue, white, brown, clear)
6: Months without a TV
6: Months walk commute to work
7: States lived in
11: Years in optometry (if you count when I first started school
25: Years without my dad
31: Countries visited
32: Years having fun in the world
"To get a deep sense of satisfaction is to live a life where your talents are used in accordance with your values." - Caroline West
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Tasting my first opera
I spotted my seat. There was only one woman sitting in the row, an 80 year old lady wearing a old black sweater with a smattering of sequins towards the top. I sat down and said hello. She answered quietly back. I looked around to see if she was waiting for someone. I wondered if she didn't want to talk.
Being the total American that I was raised to be, (especially with Kathy "I can have a stimulating conversation with a brick wall" Schultz for a mom) I couldn't keep mum for long.
"Have you been to this before?" I was trying to imply "La Boheme" but was afraid I would botch the pronunciation.
"Lots of times, in different countries. My father was Italian." She had a soft voice with a thick accent, kind dark eyes behind her bifocals and faded short, dyed black hair. "Is this your first opera?"
I said it was. I'd tried to go when I was a student but it was a dress rehearsal, so they didn't sing fully. I fell asleep. It's taken me about 8 years to give it another try.
The seats filled in around us. Barely a spare to be seen.
She talked about the trains in Switzerland where she grew up, then moving to Africa and losing two children there. Next, she and her husband were off to Holland, where they didn't last because it was too full of tall people and buildings, and she couldn't see. She suggested New Zealand to her husband. That was 35 years ago, when there were no tall buildings and the coffee was like swamp water.
The lights dimmed. The orchestra finished tuning.
The stage curtain came up to reveal a modern stage with translation projected above. I'd read the synopsis beforehand so I wouldn't be lost, but it was a simple and overly romantic plot. I don't think I would have been lost.
At intermission the lights in the house came on, and then abruptly went off, so we had to feel our way out of the auditorium. My lady friend said she'd read that they were trying to save electricity. We laughed. She went off to get ice cream and I got a coffee before we ended up back in our seats for the second half. When the final curtain dropped, we went our own ways.
"Good luck in your next few years!" She padded my arm as she walked away.
"It was wonderful talking to you."
I emerged feeling still and peaceful under the streetlights as walked toward the waterfront where I'd catch the bus home.
I love music first for the music itself and later, if it's really good, for the lyrics. I think the opera was really moving for the same reasons- enjoying the beauty of the singing, rather trying to comprehend it. So much can be said without words.
I can't wait for the next one.
Being the total American that I was raised to be, (especially with Kathy "I can have a stimulating conversation with a brick wall" Schultz for a mom) I couldn't keep mum for long.
"Have you been to this before?" I was trying to imply "La Boheme" but was afraid I would botch the pronunciation.
"Lots of times, in different countries. My father was Italian." She had a soft voice with a thick accent, kind dark eyes behind her bifocals and faded short, dyed black hair. "Is this your first opera?"
I said it was. I'd tried to go when I was a student but it was a dress rehearsal, so they didn't sing fully. I fell asleep. It's taken me about 8 years to give it another try.
The seats filled in around us. Barely a spare to be seen.
She talked about the trains in Switzerland where she grew up, then moving to Africa and losing two children there. Next, she and her husband were off to Holland, where they didn't last because it was too full of tall people and buildings, and she couldn't see. She suggested New Zealand to her husband. That was 35 years ago, when there were no tall buildings and the coffee was like swamp water.
The lights dimmed. The orchestra finished tuning.
The stage curtain came up to reveal a modern stage with translation projected above. I'd read the synopsis beforehand so I wouldn't be lost, but it was a simple and overly romantic plot. I don't think I would have been lost.
At intermission the lights in the house came on, and then abruptly went off, so we had to feel our way out of the auditorium. My lady friend said she'd read that they were trying to save electricity. We laughed. She went off to get ice cream and I got a coffee before we ended up back in our seats for the second half. When the final curtain dropped, we went our own ways.
"Good luck in your next few years!" She padded my arm as she walked away.
"It was wonderful talking to you."
I emerged feeling still and peaceful under the streetlights as walked toward the waterfront where I'd catch the bus home.
I love music first for the music itself and later, if it's really good, for the lyrics. I think the opera was really moving for the same reasons- enjoying the beauty of the singing, rather trying to comprehend it. So much can be said without words.
I can't wait for the next one.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Listen
If you've ever sat quietly and noticed the gentle whisper of your own breath...
If you've then listened deeper, finding the soft cadence of your heartbeat...
And if you've then gone even deeper, dropping into the resonant stillness of your innermost being, you might have heard it...
...the subtle, divine sound at the core of existence.
If you've then listened deeper, finding the soft cadence of your heartbeat...
And if you've then gone even deeper, dropping into the resonant stillness of your innermost being, you might have heard it...
...the subtle, divine sound at the core of existence.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Queenstown Area- South Island
I just returned from south island. It was the Queen's Birthday Holiday, so I suitably headed to Queenstown. I found it surprising to have warmer weather when I landed. I forgot that north is warmer here-everything’s backwards! My mind has to work extra hard.
Last Friday, I was greeted at the Queenstown airport with mountains in the backdrop and crisp smog-free air. It felt like home. I still love that cool fall air. After about five minutes spent picking up my beater Toyota Corolla rental, I rang up and arranged a kayak trip in Milford Sound for the following morning. Then wandered through Queenstown a bit, which is sort of reminiscent of Banff or Whistler or I suppose Aspen and Vail (though I’ve not been to the Colorado resorts). Then headed south to Te Anau.
I checked into Rosie’s backpackers, which was a homestay. Interesting to stay in someone’s home while they did their laundry (which by the way, was hanging from a chandelier-type contraption that could be raised and lowered from the ceiling- pretty handy).
The next morning, I was off in a van with 8 other folks (6 Canadians, 1 Irish and our guide, Aiden) to Milford Sound. The weather was mystical- low spotty clouds. We arrived at the kayak tent and were outfitted in warm clothes, then set off for a 4-5 hour excursion. I shared a kayak with Andy, the Irish kid. Milford exceeded my expectations and was lovely to experience from the level of the kayak. At the end, Aiden showed us where the guides live. It was 4 old campertrailers all stuck together- you wouldn’t believe how many people they had stuffed into those--- makes the camper trailer park in Vancouver look luxurious.
The next few days, I wandered along the west coast of the south island, taking in two glaciers, a swamp, a massive dinosaur tree, a failed fishing village, an old Chinese gold-panning settlement and drove through Paradise (though I didn’t know it was paradise, because there was no sign!)
It was a beautiful weekend. Reminded me of the woods of Minnesota and the forests of Oregon. I think subconsciously I was busy with that thought, as I dreamt of old friends, cousins, and even that I met little Joey Thor- I was holding him in my dream until he cried, when I handed him over to Ray. Just like real life.
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