tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70373369791703626852024-02-19T18:18:42.545-05:00Lifelines - African proverbs for daily livingThese proverbs and commentaries provide inspiration, a "lifeline" for each day.Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.comBlogger157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-73315927921923302602010-09-16T09:21:00.005-05:002010-09-16T09:39:07.104-05:00When power overcomes hate<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPRL2Wv3yxG9rM4w0UOG7hJ4XwMtYEdhcu7vkG6gsH-gQzOL2QStIoLEhk3fOeOC5pNzmpPzK-NYE8xY7Jw4ZoRdJwLRyG_v4WUXxKpAJtvcpDRxSui4aU_iBBhci5T7_IRNwVe6Nz7Q/s1600/4girls.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPRL2Wv3yxG9rM4w0UOG7hJ4XwMtYEdhcu7vkG6gsH-gQzOL2QStIoLEhk3fOeOC5pNzmpPzK-NYE8xY7Jw4ZoRdJwLRyG_v4WUXxKpAJtvcpDRxSui4aU_iBBhci5T7_IRNwVe6Nz7Q/s320/4girls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517520512150364466" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">What power does, hate cannot undo. (Uganda)</span><br /><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Please remember the names of these girls: Addie Mae Collins (aged 14), Denise McNair (aged 11), Carole Robertson (aged 14), and Cynthia Wesley (aged 14). They were attending church in Birmingham, Alabama, when someone threw a bomb that killed them. <br /><br />This incident took place on September 15, 1963. <br /><br />At that time, Jim Crow laws existed in the United States. If you lived under those laws, you would have to attend a school for Black children only. These schools were never as good as schools for white children. The better jobs were kept for whites only, and most Black moms and dads worked as maids or gardeners in white people’s homes. Blacks who managed to become doctors, lawyers, or teachers, were also separated from whites. <br /><br />Jim Crow laws affected where you could sit in a bus. Blacks had to sit in the back of the bus, and could not remain seated if a white person was standing. If you were out and wanted a drink of water, you would have to find a fountain that was meant for Blacks. If you wanted to use a bathroom, you would have to wait till you could find one that Blacks could use. Hotels and restaurants could turn you away if you wanted a room or a meal. Even Blacks who were in the army could not fight alongside whites. <br /><br />As you can imagine, Blacks protested these unjust laws. In particular, Black soldiers returning from fighting in Europe could not understand why they could not have freedom when many of them had died in Europe (and elsewhere in the world) fighting for freedom. <br /><br />Blacks therefore came together to oppose Jim Crow laws. They protested against being treated as inferior because of the color of their skins. In some places, they refused to use businesses and services that did not respect their right to be treated like any other human being. <br /><br />By the early 1960s, Blacks were starting to see some results. For example, a change in the law allowed Black children to attend the same schools as whites. However, there was still a far far way to go. <br /><br />Reverend Martin Luther King Junior and Malcolm X spoke out and led protests against the Jim Crow laws. Black people did not see why they had to wait any longer to be treated equally, and a Black Power movement started.<br /> <br />However, there were whites who did not want any change. They thought Jim Crow laws should remain and that Blacks should be their servants forever. The Ku Klux Klan, a group of racist whites, encouraged violence as a way of keeping Blacks from exercising power. <br /><br />Addie Mae, Denise, Carole, and Cynthia were attending Sunday school classes at their church when the bomb blast went off. The Ku Klux Klan so hated Blacks that some of the Klan members attacked this Black church. Someone saw the person who threw the bomb. That person was at first given a hundred-dollar fine and a six-month sentence for the murders, because the courts still did not value the lives of Blacks. In 1977, however, this person who killed the girls was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison. <br /><br />Power proved to be stronger than hate. Because of the 1963 bombing, more and more people supported those who were seeking rights for Blacks. Demonstrations continued until the United States government changes the laws so as to allow Blacks to have the same rights as whites.<br /><br />Zayda, the battle is not yet won. People might be able to drink water where they want, or to be a guest in any hotel or restaurant they can afford. However, pockets of hate still exist. But so does our power to do what hate cannot undo.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-52924421421596938052010-09-14T10:29:00.005-05:002010-09-14T10:42:25.073-05:00Finding happiness inside<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDl1WAKcdMVyGz25V2WkXld0Bf3sSewlYrk267SNKVmTQhyIPSoCPWW4cnU1pQvZS463FSaxAdxWRNFFI75QRZdCFkdYjoSMqrwK9j3zaFeXwlG9_I6RSV9d0fYIbsgpLyZKRBbFjLrY/s1600/happiness+2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDl1WAKcdMVyGz25V2WkXld0Bf3sSewlYrk267SNKVmTQhyIPSoCPWW4cnU1pQvZS463FSaxAdxWRNFFI75QRZdCFkdYjoSMqrwK9j3zaFeXwlG9_I6RSV9d0fYIbsgpLyZKRBbFjLrY/s320/happiness+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516793254715756274" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Happiness requires something to do, something to love, and something to hope for. (Swahili)</span><br /><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Each of us can decide what happiness means to us. <br /><br />We can be happy because of what we have, except that human beings never see to have enough. For example, if we have a new car today, we may be happy till we see a state of the art SUV that we think would make us happier still. <br /><br />We can also be happy because of who we are. Since we are unique and special, we can always tap into ourselves as our source happiness. The challenge is to know who we are and to have the courage to be that person. <br /><br />So we can add a little to the proverb for today. We might make it read, “Happiness is knowing ourselves to we find something to do, something to love, and something to hope for consistent with the vision we hold of ourselves and our world.” <br /><br />Let us imagine you see yourself as a writer of children’s stories. You might have something to do as a top buyer of furniture in a big firm. That job might earn you a big salary and allow you to own a home and a car while you are in your early twenties. However, just having “something to do” might not make you happy.<br /><br />We all need something or someone to love. However, we sometimes love with the hope that the person will love us back. We may expect too much of that person who, after all, has his own life to lead and his own dreams to try to fulfill. In error, we may be relying on that person to fulfill our dreams. We may then turn to something to love, perhaps devoting ourselves to some worthy cause. Love of plants and animals, love of books, cars, and music, may fill the gap for a while. Sometimes for a long while. But if our real yearning is to love another human being, we will need to first learn to love ourselves. Some may say that we cannot truly love even things, until we love ourselves. <br /><br />Happiness can give us something to hope for, just as something to hope for can give us a feeling of happiness. If we choose to be happy, the world can look good to us even on the dark days. Faith in ourselves can help us to realize that morning always follows night just as spring always follows winter. At the same time, we can make ourselves happy by having a goal to work toward.<br /><br />If we turn around this Swahili proverb, we can see that an unhappy person is likely to have nothing to do, nothing to love, and nothing to hope for. Usually the person reaches that stage because she has not learned how to love herself. The best gift to that person is not necessarily a job, a mate, or even an animal for a pet. Those may help in the short run. However the person may end up even more unhappy if she loses the things that came from the outside because she did not come to terms with herself inside. The best help is to love the person just as she is, so she can start to see herself as lovable. We may need to hold her hands for a while, being patient with her, till she can take over the job of loving herself. We can best give that help if we already love ourselves. <br /><br />Happiness is complex, my grandniece. The Swahili are onto something important here, but we may need to add to the advice they give us. Happiness also requires loving ourselves. It needs first of all to be an inside job.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-2754535219718455512010-09-12T09:31:00.004-05:002010-09-12T09:49:17.472-05:00Running toward peace rather than after fortune<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76vlHt2lgUA6SAF4e0K0ASUMVnftMlda2iOOcAa7wsdSrAudnxH9Y7ggT-B9QkpYKeTlYMrqRn_LEbv9A9QGNODXoZ1k8Y0wrXwPoXUo43XGEyKoP4sXFTclgfP7jo4mGaaiqD5xMhmI/s1600/peace+and+money.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76vlHt2lgUA6SAF4e0K0ASUMVnftMlda2iOOcAa7wsdSrAudnxH9Y7ggT-B9QkpYKeTlYMrqRn_LEbv9A9QGNODXoZ1k8Y0wrXwPoXUo43XGEyKoP4sXFTclgfP7jo4mGaaiqD5xMhmI/s320/peace+and+money.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516036615463728354" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">He who runs after good fortune runs away from peace. (Africa)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Money is very important. However, if you chase after money, it can become too important. It could become the most important thing in your life. <br /><br />One of our relatives (I will call her Winsome) is an example of how someone can lose peace by running after good fortune. She once told me, “If I had a choice to be rich or to be happy, I would choose to be rich.” <br /><br />Winsome was pretty and always looked about twenty years younger than her actual age. She enjoyed surrounding her self with beautiful things. She wore designer clothes, jewellery, shoes, and even T-shirts. I suspect she even wore designer underwear. Many of these items she bought on her annual trips abroad. <br /><br />She loved to travel, and I think she visited every continent at least once. And she felt she needed lots of money to live the way she wanted to live. In addition, she wanted lots of leisure to do these things. She therefore had a plan to retire at fifty. <br /><br />Winsome was bright and multi-talented. She studied languages, and was fluent in French and competent in Spanish. She qualified herself in library sciences before doing brilliantly in her law exams. She created desserts that would be the envy of a great chef. But she was not happy.<br /><br />She earned well as an attorney, and was able to build her own house in an exclusive neighborhood. Rent from this house earned her a good income each month. She drove nothing but Mercedes Benz cars. But she was not happy. <br /><br />Her parents were well off, and she wanted what they had. All of it. She had two brothers and a sister, but still she wanted the whole fortune. As an adult, she lived at home with her parents. She kept their company when they were well, and cared for them when they were ill. She therefore deserved to inherit her parents’ luxury home, and whatever else they chose to give her in return for her choosing to remain single and fully available to them. But some of the wealth was not enough for Winsome. She wanted all.<br /><br />Winsome convinced her father that she was the only one who was faithful to him. The others had had differences with their father, who saw himself as a patriarch whose word was law. Winsome chose to remain under his thumb even as an adult, where her siblings had defied him at different stages in their lives. They had chosen careers of which their father disapproved; they had married persons of whom their father disapproved. They had not necessarily followed his advice on how to raise their children. They had had open quarrels with him when he tried to treat them as children even though they were middle-aged at the time. Winsome held her tongue, gave up her independence, and focused on the fortune. <br /><br />Winsome’s father died and left all his wealth to his wife, on condition that on her death, she would pass on the fortune to Winsome only. Two of the siblings accepted the father’s wishes, even if they could not agree with his decision to favor one child over the others. The other sibling (I will call him George) saw how Winsome had played her game, and decided to outplay her. <br /><br />After her father’s death, Winsome and her mother became like twins. They went everywhere together, wore each other’s clothes, and pooled their funds in joint accounts. Winsome could almost relax in her hunt for the complete fortune. <br /><br />Then a roadblock developed. Winsome fell in love and her mother disliked the person so much that she would not allow him beyond her gate. This provided George with a chance to come between Winsome and their mother, and to put in his bid for the complete fortune. <br /><br />George listened well to the mother’s complaints about Winsome, and he was happy to take Winsome's place as the mother’s constant companion. He helped his mother to remove Winsome’s name from most of her properties and from several of her bank accounts. <br /><br />Nothing and no one, not even the man she loved, could comfort Winsome when she saw the wealth disappearing. She said she would prefer to die rather than live without all that her father intended her to have. She could not see life without the trips across the world and the expensive belongings. <br /><br />She became an example of they way someone can die of a broken heart. She still looked young and beautiful when she died of a disease that caused her organs to stop working. Let us hope she has found peace in the next world where material possessions do not matter. <br /><br />Just look at the trees in spring, Zayda, and you will know we live in a universe of abundance. We can follow nature by giving of ourselves, and opening up ourselves to receive. We can try to be at peace with ourselves so we attract the best to us. <br /><br />We can decide if we want to risk our happiness by chasing after wealth. We know we are on the wrong track if we find ourselves competing, trying to deprive others so we have everything, or wanting to hoard for fear the wealth will run away. <br /><br />I do believe we can have it all, if that all means most of all being happy. What do you think?<br /><br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-66345576443078388532010-09-11T14:07:00.003-05:002010-09-11T14:13:39.294-05:00Protecting chickens from hawks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhdUBzmNA93CIXmwR5nh3EE4JUAltR79MkkAKO5W9yTvdJzxyG2Gf3bIB4DdVQ2-LNY_URdyzykMjzYgUuaVSmvo5RTVev5F-DElsJD8n4clkHE3OEmIPXnlM67sgZT3UTTH08cnt6jI/s1600/hawk.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhdUBzmNA93CIXmwR5nh3EE4JUAltR79MkkAKO5W9yTvdJzxyG2Gf3bIB4DdVQ2-LNY_URdyzykMjzYgUuaVSmvo5RTVev5F-DElsJD8n4clkHE3OEmIPXnlM67sgZT3UTTH08cnt6jI/s320/hawk.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515735402665408802" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Do not throw an egg at the hawk who has just snatched one of your chicks. (Africa) </span><br /><br />Dear Zayda, <br />Hawks exist in the world. They look for chickens not because they are bad people, but because they are hawks. <br /><br />Many mothers learned to be chickens and passed on that message to their daughters. We think we must never talk back to those (usually male) who have power. We may believe that if we are nice, the world will be nice to us in return. <br /><br />Hawks look out for nice chickens. They will tend to avoid the tougher chickens who will squawk and draw attention to the hawk in their midst. Hawks often don’t want to mess with hens that will peck at them and call down their barnyard crew to chase away the hawk. Most of all, hawks might not want to tangle with roosters who will use their spurs to defend the chickens. <br /><br />So here is what some of the modern hawks do. They may be friends of moms and dads, and they may even be family members. They manage therefore to get between the chickens and those protecting the chickens. They may even get into the chicken coop and pretend to be just another chicken. <br /><br />When the chicken cries out, a mom or a dad may say, “This nice person would never do or say that to you.” The chicken may also be told, “You are too sensitive,” or “You are being emotional.” Worst of all, those who matter most to the chicken may say, “You must be sick to be making up these stories. You are a liar.” <br /><br />A hawk may threaten the chicken so she stays silent. He may say that terrible things will happen to the chicken or the chicken’s family if she ever talks about what is happening to her. He may even tell the chicken that it is her fault that he is attacking her.<br /><br />Hawks often look for chickens on the Internet. In that way, the chickens don’t get to see what the hawk is like in person. The hawk can therefore pretend to be a chicken, gentle and sweet. Even if moms and dads want to protect the chicken, they may not know what is happening in an online chat room. <br /><br />So what can you do to protect yourself, my grandniece? Trust your feelings. Act on your instincts. You don’t have to wait till the hawk has snatched a chick to know you could be in danger. You certainly do not have to do anything to placate the hawk, even if the person is a family member, your parents’ friend, or an online friend who says he is your age and in your grade at school. <br /><br />Chickens need to learn to squawk. They may need to stop being polite as their moms and dad no doubt trained them to be. They need to yell, slap, kick, and bite if that is what it takes to scare off the hawk. If need be chickens need to risk going to the police to report the hawk’s behavior. The almost last thing a chicken needs to do is to hold the hawk’s secrets. The very last thing a chicken needs to do is to try to throw an egg to a hawk that shows signs of wanting to snatch a chick. <br /><br />The world is a beautiful place, my grandniece, but we may not find all the people beautiful as they may seem. We don’t have to blame them for what they are, but we do need to protect ourselves by staying clear of danger, especially when our instincts tell us. “Watch out”. <br /><br />I hope you will always listen to your instincts.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-78144376151528765492010-09-10T09:48:00.003-05:002010-09-10T10:11:56.696-05:00Forgiveness ends the argument<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3R4lORO5cO8NohIAM5gVN2rtjM8_Tc3genP_y88HiQyH9tiHSuBb3MLl2ZhB0yt3xVWukIO6949QW2XMtkQu4DED5k9EThaDrIyGkY7cPW897Tl8j09_4dwbBeMJvBGIZn6GlcnAVdU/s1600/forgiveness.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3R4lORO5cO8NohIAM5gVN2rtjM8_Tc3genP_y88HiQyH9tiHSuBb3MLl2ZhB0yt3xVWukIO6949QW2XMtkQu4DED5k9EThaDrIyGkY7cPW897Tl8j09_4dwbBeMJvBGIZn6GlcnAVdU/s320/forgiveness.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515298258927748530" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />He who forgives ends the argument (Africa)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Two monks were once walking on a long journey. When they came to a river, they saw a young woman who wanted to get across, but the water was above her head. One of the monks lifted her up and took her to the other side in his arms. The second monk paid no attention to the young woman. The monks then continued walking and the young woman went along a different path.<br /><br />Three hours later, the second monk said, “I don’t understand you, my brother. You know we have taken a vow never to touch a woman. You broke that vow when you lifted that woman across the river.”<br /><br />“You are right,” said the first monk. “I held her in my arms for about three minutes. However, you have held her in your mind for the last three hours. And you seem set to hold her in your mind even longer. It seems to me that, until you let her go, you will continue breaking your vow.”<br /><br />Jack Mandora, mi nuh choose none. [This is a way we end stories in Jamaica. The phrase means that I am passing on the story to you as I got it, but I cannot tell you whether or not it is true.]<br /><br />The first monk did what he had to do. He broke a rule because he saw this young woman’s need and he could help her. He also knew that his vow was meant to help him stay focused on being a monk. However, he also believed in helping others as much as he could. He could forgive himself and move on, ending whatever argument he may have had in his mind.<br /><br />The second monk could not let go of his view of what he saw. He had an argument in his mind that he kept turning over and over. To him, his position was morally superior. He was protecting the rules. If he were like many of us, he would not be able to resist telling others how right he was and how wrong his brother monk was. With each repeat of his side of the story, more and more persons would be likely to enter the argument and take sides. If he continued the argument, he could become unhappy and ill. In addition others could avoid him because he would not be fun to be around. <br /><br />If the second monk is wise, he will learn from the memory and let it go. He will realize that he needs to forgive himself for what could be his own frailty in relation to women. He could have past experiences that cause him to fear touching a woman. <br /><br />If the first monk had truly released all his would be able to forgive his brother monk his inability to end the argument. If he knew and trustws himself well, he would let go the baggage that rightly belonged to the one who decided to carry the load in his mind. <br /><br />Sometimes people hurt us. Parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, close cousins and distant cousins may seem to fail us. We may feel friends have betrayed us. People may steal from us what we consider most valuable, taking away our jobs, our homes, and even the lives of our loved ones. The media seeks out those who are victims, so we may find fame and fortune in continuing to show how much another person's conduct makes us suffer. <br /><br />At some point, however, we may need to choose between being happy and being sorry for ourselves. Old and worn stories may begin to affect the choices we make and the relationships we form. Those who want to be happy will avoid us. Those who at first welcomed the argument may become tired of it and move on to stories from more recent victims. <br /><br />My grandniece, letting go is not easy, especially in a world that promotes getting our own back at those we think have offended us. I am not asking you to be a door mat, so you need never excuse what you do not wish to accept. You can remember, but not with hurt or desire for revenge. You can remember in order to make better choices in the future. You can remember so as to know whom to bring into your closest circle, and whom to keep your distance from. <br /><br />Where you are the one who did wrong, forgiveness means accepting that you did wrong, and not trying to excuse or justify your behavior. Admit it, let go the baggage, repair any damage done, and continue on life’s journey. <br /><br />Forgiving (most of all self-forgiving) is not easy, but it is the only way to go if you love yourself and want to keep yourself whole and healthy. <br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-51361772685587432492010-09-09T09:50:00.003-05:002010-09-09T10:02:47.179-05:00Learning how to lead<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXQJh0xGT0nArXxUll1OrWlNwTv6GK90eeS06Ibl900ctPPgG9kpGgFNWwW3_rON5LRKQWNNpxJMEUpACm4ctPTcpdXtSheV9i4-JuoRuUJ3WD97Wp2pQ6g2_0iDYQXeglfCY28se7pY/s1600/eggs.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXQJh0xGT0nArXxUll1OrWlNwTv6GK90eeS06Ibl900ctPPgG9kpGgFNWwW3_rON5LRKQWNNpxJMEUpACm4ctPTcpdXtSheV9i4-JuoRuUJ3WD97Wp2pQ6g2_0iDYQXeglfCY28se7pY/s320/eggs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514927226437167778" border="0" /></a>
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<br /></span></p><p style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">The egg says, “I am like authority. If you hold me too hard, I break; if you let me go, I fall and break to pieces on the ground.” (<st1:place st="on">Africa</st1:place>)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">Dear Zayda,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">Women are still learning how to lead. Since we know what we do not know, we may be better off than men who think they know. With centuries of practice, men are still making a mess for women to clean up. For too long we have accepted the work and expected none of the authority or even the credit. <span style=""> </span>Increasingly, we women are demanding our share of authority not just at home but in the boardroom and in parliament. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">Girls usually become leaders much younger than boys.<span style=""> </span>When the new baby comes, parents usually give some of their authority to the big sister. Parents may blame the three-year-old girl for any harm that comes to baby under her watch. If she and a younger child have a fight when they are grown, parents will say, to big sister, “You are the older one, so you must set the example.” Perhaps some of us avoid authority because we link it to blame, sacrifice, loss of childhood, and loss of fun. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">While the girls are doing chores and supervising younger children, the boys (certainly in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Jamaica</st1:country-region></st1:place>!) are usually outdoors playing games. They therefore learn about authority through games. So while women take authority seriously and often too seriously, men tend to see authority as a game. Where women may take a loss to heart, a man may accept a loss as the price for staying in the game. Women may think their power base is formed in discussions at meetings; men know the power base is formed over drinks at the bar. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">Women with state authority used to be rare.<span style=""> </span>The first female elected to head a government was Sirivamo</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:130%;"> Bandaranaike of <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Sri Lanka</st1:country-region></st1:place>, in a country where men usually lead while women follow several paces behind. From similar cultures came such leaders as </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Indira Gandhi of <st1:country-region st="on">India</st1:country-region>, and Benazir Bhutto of <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Pakistan</st1:country-region></st1:place>.<span style=""> </span>Today we had many more women holding state power in countries such as <st1:country-region st="on">Liberia</st1:country-region>, <st1:country-region st="on">Germany</st1:country-region>, and <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Chile</st1:country-region></st1:place>. Portia Simpson Miller was <st1:country-region st="on">Jamaica</st1:country-region>’s first and only female prime minister, and this year <strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Kamla Persad-Bissessar became <st1:place st="on">Trinidad</st1:place>’s prime minister. You can see a list of women currently in power at</span></strong><b style="">: </b><a href="http://www.filibustercartoons.com/charts_rest_female-leaders.php">http://www.filibustercartoons.com/charts_rest_female-leaders.php </a></span> <span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">Women continue to search for positive ways to handle authority. Most women, such as Maggie Thatcher of <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Britain</st1:country-region></st1:place>, have decided to hold the egg hard, often so hard that they defeat themselves.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>Some, like Eugenia Charles of <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Dominica</st1:country-region></st1:place>, stay the course as a strong leader, not seeming to care if others think they are acting like males. <span style=""> </span>Many more women avoid handling authority. They let go of the egg out of fear of being seem as trying to be a man.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">My grandniece, you can begin to practice handling authority as soon as you have any kind of leadership role – at home or at school. <span style=""> </span>Remember the lesson of the egg. Carry an egg around with you for a few days and see what you have to do to protect the egg. <span style=""> </span>
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<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">Understand that you can be gentle without allowing the egg to fall. Notice that you can hold the egg firmly without crushing it. Remember that if you put down the egg, someone else may pick it up and act as if the egg belongs to him because that is what he grew up to believe. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">And if you find no other sources to guide you, Zayda, remember the wisdom the ancestors have set down for us in these proverbs. Remember women such as Yaa Asantewaa and Harriet Tubman. They had the courage to take up the egg and nurture it. They could be tough and gentle, flexible and uncompromising. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">Balance and self-trust are some of the qualities we need to feel at home with the authority that belongs as much to us as to anyone else.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Blessings,
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<br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >
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<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-40545761546084661212010-09-08T09:52:00.004-05:002010-09-08T10:09:00.207-05:00Letting go of pretence<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-aDoJAs00FGqcPebkNEraUzR_1oB3V9Eld6DLNOLi49FrnvEJZPxHhyphenhyphenaAZuS0q11CJ1Urt3jNerivX59wQMNyBzZb04btJE__uSGeHT5MW7MCripkLMsyx3AWCSYMJr5yh50gZr9FoU/s1600/crocodile.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-aDoJAs00FGqcPebkNEraUzR_1oB3V9Eld6DLNOLi49FrnvEJZPxHhyphenhyphenaAZuS0q11CJ1Urt3jNerivX59wQMNyBzZb04btJE__uSGeHT5MW7MCripkLMsyx3AWCSYMJr5yh50gZr9FoU/s320/crocodile.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514556423743519330" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">No matter how long a log stays in the water, it doesn't become a crocodile. (Mali)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />We can admire people, and we can even pattern our lives on the lives of others. But only one original exists, and all else are carbon copies.<br /><br />Singers on talent shows, like American Idol, have weeks when they perform songs by well-known singers. However, they judges are always looking for to see where the performers are bringing their unique talent to the song. <br /><br />Fantasia, the winner a few seasons ago, sounded to me like Aretha Franklin. If she continued to sound like Aretha, Fantasia could have been no more than an Aretha imitator. She needed to find her own voice and her own personality on stage. Besides, even if she spent a lifetime trying to be Aretha, she would still be Fantasia. She would have failed at being Aretha, and failed at being herself. For the record, Fantasia has been herself, with all the challenges that can come from letting others see us as we are.<br /><br />Our unqualified success in life is in being our true selves. We can do that better than anyone else.<br /><br />Howard Daly was a dancer, singer, musician, and personal coach. He loved life and he loved people. A doctor commented that when Howard was on the hospital ward, his presence brought about changes nurses and doctors had never seen in the hospital. <br /><br />No one is likely to build a monument to Howard. No one is likely to name streets after Howard. He died last weekend without leaving children by blood or any more than basic possessions. But all who knew him have a memory of a person who was true to himself and could therefore be true to others. He brought a sense of peace, because he was at peace with himself.<br /><br />He was therefore free to show his heart, the unique part of all of us. Sometimes we want to be ourselves, but we are scared that others might see us without the masks that we think protect us. Many times other people have already seen behind the masks, but they may keep up the pretense because that is what they think we want. They may be wearing masks of their own, so the game might be that they leave our mask alone if we leave theirs alone.<br /><br />Masks serve a purpose. Our ancestors had to wear masks to protect themselves. They had to pretend to be happy so slave-owners would not know they were planning to resist their bondage. Jonkunnu, Carnival, and Mardi Gras allowed people to relieve stress by pretending to be someone or something else. They could say and do things without being seen for who they really were. But no matter how long we wear the mask, we never can become the face of the mask. We may even forget who we truly are and find ourselves faceless.<br /><br />So, Zayda, if we are a log, let’s be a great log. Let's seek the sunlight since the log that stays in water too long will probably rot. Others may be scared of the log for as long as they fear it is a crocodile, but the secret will be out when the log is exposed as having no scales or teeth or tail. Or life of its own.<br /><br />My grandniece, you bring the unique you to this life. You have special qualities that your world needs. Mask when you have to or need to. But seek always to free yourself to be yourself.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-3672959795587142502010-09-07T09:13:00.003-05:002010-09-07T09:26:19.261-05:00Adding raindrops to the sea<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIc9uVaHLyzIOqRVVRLQLn2-EY31uR-MKl-tyCK6yYepce_lhoF9urY6QRckXl93uumnCecAcMJHkbkpm8YfcU6aJ29Y279nZCM6Vrddc-U8lKo6q61vbnBSHCLhJXoo3Vk008wc_5j4/s1600/Muhammad_Ali.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIc9uVaHLyzIOqRVVRLQLn2-EY31uR-MKl-tyCK6yYepce_lhoF9urY6QRckXl93uumnCecAcMJHkbkpm8YfcU6aJ29Y279nZCM6Vrddc-U8lKo6q61vbnBSHCLhJXoo3Vk008wc_5j4/s320/Muhammad_Ali.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514175052327565762" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Even the sea accepts raindrops. (Ghana)</span> <br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />You are free to express yourself freely and then some more. People in Jamaica will call you “nuff” [too much to handle] and perhaps even “boasy” [boastful]. Others may even think of you as an “uppity” with the N-word added to it.<br /><br />President Barack Obama gets labeled “uppity” because, as a Black man, he dared to think big. He dared to dream of being president of the most powerful country in the world, even though he was a Black man raised by a single mother. To get to be president means usually that you have to be rich, and Obama didn’t have the wealth of George Bush, for example. Definitely not the wealth of a John F. Kennedy. So Obama became inventive about fund raising. He built a community of funders among regular people who could send him ten or twenty dollars at a time. He thought big, and then some more. He could well have thought that being a candidate for the presidency was enough. He could have thought that winning the primaries was enough. But no, he believed in himself enough to think he and his family deserved to live in the White House. <br /><br />Some of us think that he may be limiting himself these days. Sometimes he may seem like a turtle that wants to play it safe and not stick out its neck too far. He may need to realize that we are always on a journey, so we can’t just sit back and decide we have arrived and all is well. Just as there is always room for raindrops in the sea, so there is always room for another leaf on the tree. <br /><br />Muhammad Ali was always over the top. His sea always had room for more raindrops. He knew he was the greatest boxer in the world, even before he won any titles. By seeing himself as the best, he won his fights even before he got into the boxing ring. He would predict exactly which round he would knock out an opponent, and he was usually right. He believed in himself more than anyone could possibly believe in him. People criticized him for chatting so much, and some called him “the Louisville Lip” as he came from Louisville, Kentucky. He silenced the critics by proving the truth of what he was saying. Ali became a boxing legend for boxing with brains as well as fists. He had 56 wins and only 5 losses in his career. <br /><br />Ali did not believe in war, and so he refused to be in the United States army fighting the Vietnamese in their own country. He said, "No, I am not going 10,000 miles to help murder kill and burn other people to simply help continue the domination of white slavemasters over dark people the world over. This is the day and age when such evil injustice must come to an end."<br /><br />He knew he could damage his boxing career by standing up for his beliefs, but he would not allow money and fame to limit him. He had challenged the sports system with his confidence as a boxing, and he challenged political system with his confidence as a Black man. <br /><br />Ali identified with militants in the Black struggle for civil rights. He joined the Nation of Islam, even though he knew his views on race and religion could lose him support from boxing fans and therefore his career. <br /><br />My grandniece, you can never be too much of yourself. There is always more to do and more to discover. People at the top are bound to slide down if they just sit there. If we stop dreaming (and dreaming big!) we stop living (when we could be living big!). <br /><br />So live, Zayda, live fully and then some more!!<br /><br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-55237204894427480252010-09-06T09:15:00.003-05:002010-09-06T09:30:01.832-05:00Knowing when to stop pushing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkpK70Z2NZxPooII845LLpO3w1UD5e4tD6Pt3cFFcCvYeZocMbb63D0TRtgJYAaMMso5thN2zGxAG2Mv0xnJCbgaMsetCH3ByD3HqLV2Ia_acbEjkSU2pDJxgP0rhtbXU7cQp4xWS-5M/s1600/wall.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkpK70Z2NZxPooII845LLpO3w1UD5e4tD6Pt3cFFcCvYeZocMbb63D0TRtgJYAaMMso5thN2zGxAG2Mv0xnJCbgaMsetCH3ByD3HqLV2Ia_acbEjkSU2pDJxgP0rhtbXU7cQp4xWS-5M/s320/wall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513804454700727522" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Pushing ends at the wall. (Sierra Leone)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />No matter how hard we push, we need to recognize when we hit a wall. We can go over, under, or around the wall. We can stop and think what we can do to break down the wall, or we can leave that wall for now with a plan to return when we are stronger or have more help. At the very least, we need to step back before the wall does us damage.<br /><br />Many of us would like to be popular. However, pushing can create a wall between us and others. Then the harder we push is the more others pull away. If we appear too needy, others may push back at us, and we may feel even more crushed by this wall. We may also blame those who do not like us, thus making the wall even higher and wider. <br /><br />If pushing makes us feel hurt and unhappy, we need to stop and think about where we are and where we want to go. For example, being popular is more about liking ourselves than about having others like us. If we have to push to start a friendship, we are likely to have to continue pushing to keep the friendship. However, if we are good friends with ourselves first, we are more likely to attract those whom we don’t need to push. <br /><br />In a competitive world, pushing for a promotion at work seems like the only choice. A man named Don was good at his job, and so he was disappointed when Cynthia got the promotion he thought he deserved. He decided to do his best to push her out of the job, in the hope that he would replace her. He spread gossip about her, claiming that she was dishonest. Now, what people say about others is often true about themselves. After a couple of years, Don lost the job because he changed a company check and kept the money for himself. <br /><br />Cynthia continued to face the wall of gossip that Don had started. So she resigned from her post when she felt life had more to offer than daily battles at work. When she left, someone else got the promotion as Don had wanted so badly. <br /><br />We can push by improving ourselves, and by doing our best always. However, our best ideas can come to us when we are not pushing. <br /><br />For example, Debbie may be working 16 hours every day to try to complete a project. However, the harder she works is the more tired her brain becomes. The long hours at the computer may cause Debbie's eyes and her back to ache. She may need to know when to stop pushing because she has reached a wall. Lying down in bed or going to the beach may seem irresponsible with so much work to do; however, the break is likely to help Debbie to find ways under, over, or around the wall. Fresh ideas will almost certainly come to her after a nap or a swim. She may relax with friends who, to her surprise, can provide her with answers that will shorten her work. <br /><br />Balance is key to knowing when to push, and when to stop pushing. Balance and wisdom.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-13113264342842654172010-09-05T12:10:00.005-05:002010-09-05T13:17:25.875-05:00Setting sail on our own star<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKJ4KL4HmLnZXJURF4l9Zg-u87TRGFWg-hqKlz0NTqOo92N_PDxnKNlxp-wr9C10GjeAyVZrFlqGdum8hiMyO4IPh2tyWC9R_Zo54Jt6PvVCRA7nOTq0Ttg0-Rx6VzHe246k5xJFSodY/s1600/sailboat.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 112px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKJ4KL4HmLnZXJURF4l9Zg-u87TRGFWg-hqKlz0NTqOo92N_PDxnKNlxp-wr9C10GjeAyVZrFlqGdum8hiMyO4IPh2tyWC9R_Zo54Jt6PvVCRA7nOTq0Ttg0-Rx6VzHe246k5xJFSodY/s320/sailboat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513488133434515522" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CYvonne%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region" downloadurl="http://www.5iantlavalamp.com/"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place" downloadurl="http://www.5iantlavalamp.com/"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >Don't set sail on someone else's star. (Swahili)</span><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >Dear Zayda,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >Our star will guide us, if we let it. However, we sometimes allow other people’s stars to outshine ours. For example, we might follow the stars of those we want to please. We may ignore our own stars in an effort to win the approval of parents and teachers. Later we may follow the star of a spouse, employer, or even politician. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >Moms and dads will have ideas on what they want their children to be. The usual choices are professions linked to status and money: law, medicine, accounting, or engineering. A spouse may need us to support his career; and children may claim our attention. Parents may need us close by so they feel more secure as they grow older. Following someone else’s star may seem safe or dutiful, but we can never set sail on that person’s star. <span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >Althea was a teacher whose parents were also teachers. She seemed settled, with a husband, a child, and a job in one of the best high schools. But she yearned to be a model. She was very dark-skinned at a time when the more light-skinned models seemed to be in demand. She was already 28 years old – close to retirement age for models who usually start on the runways at about age 16.<span style=""> </span>Althea struggled with remaining in a safe harbor, but her desire to find herself remained. So she set sail with just a glimmer of her own star to guide her. She entered a modeling competition with girls little more than half her age – and she won! Althea went on to a career in modeling that took her overseas. She even made the cover of Essence magazine. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >Until recently, Juds worked in sales. She did well enough to support herself and her son, but she also knew she was treading water. With an uncertain economy, she was glad to have a job. Still, she wanted to do what gave her the greatest joy: cooking. When she got a chance to go to <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">China</st1:country-region></st1:place> to teach cooking for a year, she agreed right away. Sometimes, even when we can see and know our star, we are scared to leave port. Juds could have decided that <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">China</st1:country-region></st1:place> was too far away. She would need to adjust to people and places and tastes that were foreign to her. The Chinese would find her as unusual as she would find them, as Blacks are unknown (except for Usain Bolt) in many parts of <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">China</st1:country-region></st1:place>. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >Juds is now in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">China</st1:country-region></st1:place>, having the best experience of her life – except for when the Chinese insist on touching Juds’ locks for the hundredth time! She had to step away from all that is familiar to her, but that is the price we pay for setting sail and following our own star. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >As we grow older, we may wonder why we are in a rut, why we feel so unfulfilled. We may have traveled far, but not yet reached our own destination. Fortunately, our own star is always waiting on us, and it is never too late (or too early) to set sail. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >Blessings,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-size:130%;" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-56177867905387192142010-09-04T07:58:00.003-05:002010-09-04T08:11:15.585-05:00Power of love to overcome evil<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDelahlIo2SmLYf7oBD8GItLp6PNeaLTCXWaTE4aDln86uWHQ85XU4WTOlSYDzIAwP4QFNl1z-LiAugL7-I5Eq4-gi_QOlEByysMYtAL4EqCP5oSRa2vjf4OZ6ZM_l1PnhPpQyROQvCPU/s1600/Gandhi.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDelahlIo2SmLYf7oBD8GItLp6PNeaLTCXWaTE4aDln86uWHQ85XU4WTOlSYDzIAwP4QFNl1z-LiAugL7-I5Eq4-gi_QOlEByysMYtAL4EqCP5oSRa2vjf4OZ6ZM_l1PnhPpQyROQvCPU/s320/Gandhi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513042963828379186" border="0" /></a>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CYvonne%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place" downloadurl="http://www.5iantlavalamp.com/"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region" downloadurl="http://www.5iantlavalamp.com/"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} span.who {mso-style-name:who;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">
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<br /></p><p style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Without retaliation, evils would one day become extinct from the world.
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<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;">Dear Zayda,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">
<br /></st1:country-region></st1:place></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Jamaica</st1:country-region></st1:place> has more churches per square metre than any other country in the world. <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Jamaica</st1:country-region></st1:place> also at the moment has the highest murder rate in the world. The link between number of churches and the murder rate may well be Jamaican’s love of the Law of Moses. “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth” says that law. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mahatma Gandhi said, </span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">“An eye for an eye will soon make the whole world blind.” That belief in retaliation certainly keeps bad things happening in families, in communities, in nations, and in the world. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Gandhi wanted to free <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">India</st1:country-region></st1:place>, but he chose peace over violence. <st1:country-region st="on">Britain</st1:country-region> then ruled <st1:country-region st="on">India</st1:country-region> and occupied much of Africa and the <st1:place st="on">Caribbean</st1:place> as well. But <st1:country-region st="on">India</st1:country-region> was at the centre of <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Britain</st1:country-region></st1:place>’s empire. <st1:country-region st="on">India</st1:country-region> provided <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Britain</st1:country-region></st1:place> with riches, power, and control over land and people. <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Britain</st1:country-region></st1:place> also had a strong army, and the best navy in the world. Gandhi had little more than a desire to see the backs of the British, and to see Indians rule their own country. Yet Gandhi’s refusal to hit back led to the end of the British Empire not just in <st1:country-region st="on">India</st1:country-region>, but in Africa and the <st1:place st="on">Caribbean</st1:place></span> as well. <span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">If we feel we have to do to someone what the evil have done to us, or worse, we give away our power. That other person is now ruling our life, and may later rule our children’s lives as well.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Today in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Jamaica</st1:country-region></st1:place> there are communities at war with each other. Often the reasons are not clear, just that someone from this side once injured or disrespected or disagreed with someone from the other side. The wars break up families and friends, and isolate people who have to avoid the war zones. Battles take place in which people lose their homes and sometimes their lives. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">When the fighting wears down people enough, peace might come for a while. People wonder why they chose to fight when life is so much easier when they care for each other, and when they can walk freely on streets that used to be no man’s land. If the will to give up “an eye for an eye” is strong enough, the peace will last. Too often, however, the mistrust does not go away. A small incident – such as an argument in a bar - can start up the war again.
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<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">The desire for retaliation seems never far away, especially when it seems to have support from the Bible. Jesus said his teachings of love were to replace the Law of Moses. He told his followers to love their enemies and to do good to those who hurt them, but Jamaicans seem to prefer to follow the hate teachings of Moses. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Nelson Mandela had every reason to hate those who kept him in prison for 27 years. Like Gandhi, Mandela wanted to do what seemed impossible at the outset. He wanted to free a country where one group enjoyed life at the expense of another group. The white South Africans had all the power, and did all they could to ensure the Blacks had no power at all. They were shot down when they tried to march peacefully to resist unjust treatment., but later took up arms to defend themselves. </span> Blacks tried to use Gandhi’s methods</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Nonetheless, when Mandela walked out of prison as a free man, and white rule ended, Mandela insisted there should be no retaliation. He did not wish evil to continue under Black rule. He set an example by making peace with his own jailers, and with those who had mistreated Black people so badly and over so many years. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">My grandniece, we will be tempted to hit back when others hit us, so as to give them a taste of their own medicine. Even as we do that, we need to realize we are giving away our power to those persons. The best we can do then is to re-take our power as soon as we can. We can step back for a while to think about what we want most of all.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Is our goal to hurt someone today and risk retaliation tomorrow? Is the loving thing to move away from that person (if we can)? Could we try to love ourselves so much the person’s words and actions cannot hurt us? </span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Could we bring ourselves to understand that the other person is acting out of his own pain, and that his behavior has nothing to do with us personally? Could we re-focus on our goals rather than stay focused on the person’s conduct? </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Taking the peaceful road is not easy, Zayda. It takes more courage than fighting back, and it certainly leaves us with less evil for even the new-born to deal with. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">We can choose. So, like Gandhi and Mandela, let us choose to love and forgive.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Blessings,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)</span></p> Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-10457633832753096352010-09-03T13:05:00.005-05:002010-09-03T13:20:52.119-05:00Crossing rivers to reach success<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHvElnGYRb7C3hkFqIvixw6sOCBtHHY2QTy5_qSgWQKHXnrUj3vRMCP05LSM_n8e7JBxCYUcYg7fRZF8jR7b20h2KxFk4DfzsoWThtqzj5mWHK47LbQJd957FS1n9Jx312PYE6fvGKvQ/s1600/Madge_Sinclair.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHvElnGYRb7C3hkFqIvixw6sOCBtHHY2QTy5_qSgWQKHXnrUj3vRMCP05LSM_n8e7JBxCYUcYg7fRZF8jR7b20h2KxFk4DfzsoWThtqzj5mWHK47LbQJd957FS1n9Jx312PYE6fvGKvQ/s320/Madge_Sinclair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512750492072030162" border="0" /></a>
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<br /></i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><i>One does not cross a river without getting wet. (Zulu)</i><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">Dear Zayda, <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">Someone once said, “Whatever is worth doing, is worth doing badly.” If we want to stay dry, we might never leave one side of the bank for the other. However, getting wet is the price we pay for crossing the river. If we manage to cross the river and remain dry, whatever or whoever carries us across the river will get wet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">In life, as Jimmy Cliff points out in his song, there are many rivers to cross.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kGeCeK85sUg?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kGeCeK85sUg?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>
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<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">Every time we attempt something new, we risk getting wet. However, many of us want to play it safe, especially as we grow older. Mistakes are the price we pay for crossing rivers. Courage is the reward for learning that we can be dry again after we have reached the other side. If fear keeps us stuck on the river bank, we risk feeling unhappy in our lives. We live with regret that we did not allow ourselves to get wet so as to explore other sides of life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">Those who love us may think they are doing the best for us when they try to keep us dry. A parent might say to a child who wants to be a dancer, “Why don’t you become an attorney or a doctor instead, and dance as a hobby?” We need to be ready to defy well-meaning family and friends so as to cross rivers that beckon to us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">“Cornbread, Earl, and Me” is already a classic, and I am sure you will see this movie before long. Madge Sinclair plays the mother in the movie. She is an example of someone who was determined to keep going toward her goal, no matter the hardship. She was a Jamaican primary school teacher with the dream of becoming a movie star.
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<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">Few other Jamaicans had made it to <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Hollywood</st1:city></st1:place> by then – that river seemed to broad, wide, and deep for someone like Madge to cross. She spoke with a Jamaican accent that she wanted to keep; she had no contacts in the business to open doors for her; she had no trust fund to keep her going while she tried to get acting jobs. As a Black woman, she had difficulty getting roles to match her talent. In addition, she was thirty years old when she started out in an industry that favors the young, white, and conventionally beautiful. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">Madge had left a family behind in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Jamaica</st1:country-region></st1:place> – one of her sons was in the same class as one of my sons. So she must have been tempted many times to return to the side of the river that she knew best. She could have stayed safe as wife, mother, and teacher. But she chose to remain in <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">New York</st1:state></st1:place> even when food and money were short, and jobs were nowhere in sight. However, she was already in the water, already getting wet, so she continued to push for the side she was determined to reach. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">If you watch re-runs of the Roots mini-series, and of Trapper John MD, you will see Madge. You will hear her voice in The Lion King. As far as possible, Madge kept her Jamaican flavor. For example, in Trapper John MD she plays the role of Jamaican nurse working in the <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">USA</st1:country-region></st1:place>, and periodically she bursts out in broad Jamaican. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">Our dreams are always within reach, Zayda. We will get wet crossing rivers. We may even slip and feel as if the currents are taking us with them. We may need help to get across safely. But the other bank is always awaiting us. New horizons. A chance to fulfill dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Blessings,
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<br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">
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<br /></span></span>Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-1899457813252752102010-09-02T11:01:00.004-05:002010-09-02T11:18:38.526-05:00Giving everyone credit for what they know<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16YkXBZRrQpkQ24TZSY-rGikYHXEOWe6eKvsh6WdB6NbV345skmhw4VOGmbDi9BntX9OkOisXgG1tZjSaTm5aB_rLrpg6K-MuyAq2Cyulqv8tbXZgYKrbTXwTMEWrPzKHU8QB9lX6eZg/s1600/teacher.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 113px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16YkXBZRrQpkQ24TZSY-rGikYHXEOWe6eKvsh6WdB6NbV345skmhw4VOGmbDi9BntX9OkOisXgG1tZjSaTm5aB_rLrpg6K-MuyAq2Cyulqv8tbXZgYKrbTXwTMEWrPzKHU8QB9lX6eZg/s320/teacher.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512347967996290402" border="0" /></a>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CYvonne%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place" downloadurl="http://www.5iantlavalamp.com/"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region" downloadurl="http://www.5iantlavalamp.com/"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p face="trebuchet ms" style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">
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<br /></p><p style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">He who does not know one thing knows another. (<st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Kenya</st1:place></st1:country-region>)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Dear Zayda,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Even as a baby, you know things that others do not know and need to know. There is so much you do not yet know, but you are the expert on when you are hungry or soiled, when you need attention or just want to play. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Parents and teachers are wrong if they think children are empty vessels waiting to be filled. A child may not yet be able to do calculus, but the child knows mathematics long before reaching school. He knows that two sweets are more than one; she will know if she has fewer wooden blocks now than a moment ago.They both know the difference between a small ball and a large ball.
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<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Children are born knowing a lot. The job of adults is to help them to be aware of what they may know by instinct or by childhood experience. Teaching a child can be easier if we help them make sense of what they already know. On the other hand, teaching can be a battle if we insist on filling the child with what we decide the child ought to know. The word “recognize” really means “to know again”. So we can assume a child already knows, but we are helping him to “know again”.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">We, not our doctors, are the experts about our bodies. We do not need to have passed medical exams to know how our bodies function.
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<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Zayda, our elders lived in deep rural villages where they reached doctors only in the most serious of cases. They had to learn how to be in harmony with nature and at peace with their bodies. Elders learned from their elders how to eat foods that helped them to be healthy. In contrast, today’s junk foods are linked to diseases. Our elders also knew which herbs and bushes to use to promote health. In contrast, today’s medications may help in one way, but have side effects that may harm the body. Our elders' connection with nature and with their inner spirit helped them relieve stress. They had limits on what they knew about health, but their knowledge survives today as “alternative medicine”. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Many assume that someone who has a doctorate knows more than someone who cannot read and write. However, that highly educated person is mistaken if she thinks the illiterate person knows nothing. Many who cannot read and write need to be extra sharp to survive. One grandmother hid her reading “disability” so well that her family knew about it only when she died and they saw she signed her will with an “X”. She had supervised homework, discussed world politics, sang her hymns, and had the longest memory of anyone in the family. She may not have known how to use a computer, but no one anywhere could match her sweet potato pudding with the custard on top. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">We gain a lot, my grandniece, if we accept that each person knows things we do not or cannot know. We need always to respect others for what they know and can teach us.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Blessings,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne) </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-88547679923789228662010-09-01T08:57:00.005-05:002010-09-01T12:33:47.266-05:00Keeping ladders in place<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUOuGPJYirsyTyT7YbDPrsdnVbi-n3BL2zp0pBXaXaezZuGCDHqCtUNeJgs2R_NiV1yhN54tWP0tpsochc_q2sTALPxBL5a_q4BXjJHNjHd5klIjt6sUlERVSA-fwVqzpE3JlMk6Jq8Y/s1600/ladder.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 113px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUOuGPJYirsyTyT7YbDPrsdnVbi-n3BL2zp0pBXaXaezZuGCDHqCtUNeJgs2R_NiV1yhN54tWP0tpsochc_q2sTALPxBL5a_q4BXjJHNjHd5klIjt6sUlERVSA-fwVqzpE3JlMk6Jq8Y/s320/ladder.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511998542828009586" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Kick away the ladder and your feet are left dangling. (Malawi)</span><br /><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />We are never alone unless we choose to be. Those who have gone before and many who are present have helped us to reach where we are now. If we forget them, we will be like those who climb a ladder and then kick it away. We may have reached the top, but we have no way of getting back to the ground that nurtured us.<br /><br />People are more likely to kick away the ladder when they feel ashamed of whom they are. Sometimes people are ashamed of what their parents did to help them succeed. For example, if someone is a doctor, he may be ashamed of his mother who cleaned people’s floors, washed people’s clothes, and sold goods in the market to pay for his schooling. Those who are still at the bottom of the ladder may think others arrive at the top by magic. However, if the doctor would admit to the ladder, he could show others how they could improve their lives even if they are poor now. Worse still, the doctor may find that his children learn the lesson of disloyalty only too well. <br /><br />Blanche K Bruce was the first African American senator to complete a full term. He was light-skinned, and he married a woman who was even lighter-skinned. He was the first African American whose signature showed on US currency. When the US government honored him in 2002, there were virtually none of his descendants to celebrate his achievements. Over time, they had passed for white. With the ladder to Bruce kicked away, almost none of his family was aware of or could admit to being Black.<br /><br />Just as some of us want to forget we were every poor or Black, some of us forget we were young. For example, we may criticize the young for their styles, forgetting the styles we wore no matter how hard our parents objected. Some of us may indeed have worn these styles because our parents objected. Yesterday’s parents were perhaps as outraged by sons who wore earrings as are today’s parents by sons who wear braided hair. Today’s skimpy skirts may well offend those who forget the micro-minis they wore in the 1960s. If generations kick away the ladder, elders are sidelined and young people miss out on the benefits of learning from their elders.<br /><br />Rich and poor, Black and white, young and old all have much to learn and to teach each other. Let’s work at keeping the ladders standing upright. If the ladders happen to fall, let’s work together to get them back up again.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-56861150015287281182010-08-31T12:37:00.004-05:002010-08-31T13:07:05.988-05:00Giving help without wasting away like soap<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImIbUWu-tVt5VS3j84jQN6QfK4KnvfwxBRSLCFgGieOwpBPgn5vpkIXiU5_JHXUNW1x55GW3HyHnXdY4LyWXyKT17dC0S7LencpoiCG8fNeuFKgTFY9iIxEjEFAUBrfHnCxa1QxTSSQ8/s1600/soap.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImIbUWu-tVt5VS3j84jQN6QfK4KnvfwxBRSLCFgGieOwpBPgn5vpkIXiU5_JHXUNW1x55GW3HyHnXdY4LyWXyKT17dC0S7LencpoiCG8fNeuFKgTFY9iIxEjEFAUBrfHnCxa1QxTSSQ8/s320/soap.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511634854638261602" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">If you try to cleanse others - like soap, you will waste away in the process! Malagasy)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Those of us who think we can cleanse others need to think again. First-borns like you and me may start out with the job of “cleansing” younger brothers and sisters, and we may want to continue the job for life. Some of us may even find careers – as nurses, teachers, social workers, and even human rights activists – that help us to feel we are cleansing others. Those who waste away, without succeeding at cleansing others, risk feeling angry at themselves, at the still uncleansed, and sometimes at the world. <br /><br />Try as hard as we may, we cannot cleanse anyone who wants to keep his dirt. The best help we can give is to point the person to the soap and the water and show them how to cleanse themselves. Babies need people to cleanse them, but children need gradually to learn how to look after themselves. We have to be careful not to make babies of grownups, not to keep doing for them what they can do for themselves.<br /><br />Still, many of us seem unable to help ourselves. Perhaps we know that deep down we are the ones that need the cleansing, but it seems easier to cleanse others than ourselves. <br /><br />For example, Marie had some self-esteem issues when she married Tom. When she was growing up, all Marie knew of her mother were the occasional phone calls from New York and the barrels that arrived on birthdays and at Christmas. <br /><br />Her friends thought Tom was a bit clingy, but Marie loved being needed. Tom abused drugs, but Marie was sure that she could cleanse him of that habit. She believed her love would make up for Tom’s mood swings. She had to go to hospital once when he hit her and made her ear bleed. However, she married Tom as soon as her bruises healed. Within two years of the marriage, Marie was abusing drugs as well. <br /><br />When we help others, we need to keep asking ourselves if this help is helpful to the other person or to ourselves. Is our help making others dependent on us? Does our help give us a change to feel superior to others who seem weaker than ourselves? <br /><br />Patrick was a bright man who spent several years in prison for fraud. He wanted to write about his experiences so as to help others who might be tempted to break the law. Sarah, who also had dreams of being a writer, decided to help Patrick. She did not want to give Patrick money just like that. She therefore hired him to work in her garden in exchange for as much as she could afford to pay him. In the mean time, she arranged for him to attend writing classes, free of charge. She also set up counseling sessions to help him overcome the trauma of the years he spent in prison. In addition she introduced Patrick to friends who might help him earn money that would at least keep Patrick's landlord from throwing him out. <br /><br />Janet was proud of the strides Patrick was making. Her garden was the talk of the neighborhood, and Patrick got jobs looking after other people’s gardens. His creative writing teacher reported that he had talent and was one of the best in his class. <br /><br />One day, Janet received a call expressing sadness at the passing of Patrick’s mother. As far as Janet knew, the lady had died almost ten years earlier. Gradually, Janet realized that Patrick had returned to his old life. He was, for example, getting Janet’s friends to pay for his writing classes several times over. He begged them not to tell Janet about his appeals to them for money, because she was already so good to him. At first he was asking for small sums, but he needed a lot more money to “bury his mother”. <br /><br />Fortunately, Janet did not spend too much time wasting away. She turned her energy into writing, and became a published author. <br /><br />Zayda, even if we try to cleanse others, we do not have to keep going till we are all wasted away like soap. We can stop. We can learn. We can decide to cleanse ourselves instead. Only then can we help others to help themselves, and let them go if they if they want to use us as props. <br /><br />By being healthy and whole, we increase the chances that people around us will at least moving in the direction of being healthy and whole. <br /><br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-35949190799683584782010-08-30T16:05:00.004-05:002010-08-30T17:24:59.973-05:00Finding peace with what runs inside us<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZte4WBAoo8amQdQWVIATh1Tdc-Reyvy_KukHFwaNMLdnNYhonFO9X4ics_YSZ7hv75GKLSk8cgeCicfeQ7AXVhzfVFI7FC55EJw3OLFj-BKjOZJr4ZBJh6HPOJjC8BzJKrByzuC53tFc/s1600/Michael+Jackson.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZte4WBAoo8amQdQWVIATh1Tdc-Reyvy_KukHFwaNMLdnNYhonFO9X4ics_YSZ7hv75GKLSk8cgeCicfeQ7AXVhzfVFI7FC55EJw3OLFj-BKjOZJr4ZBJh6HPOJjC8BzJKrByzuC53tFc/s320/Michael+Jackson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511329950745543522" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">You can outdistance that which is running after you, but not that which runs inside you. (Rwanda)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Michael Jackson is one of many examples of people who have the means to outdistance what is running after them, but still become trapped by what is running inside them. <br /><br />Michael had a lot of what many of us imagine will make us content. His songs – like “Ben”, “Man in the Mirror”, and “Billie Jean” – will remain popular for generations to come. Michael was so famous that his concerts were certain to be sold out. When he died, he was rehearsing for a tour in which all fifty concerts were sold out. At the height of his career, he had so much money that he could probably buy the most expensive item in the most expensive shop, and not notice the difference. His main home was a mansion on a ranch, where he wanted that money could buy.<br /><br />This man had the talent, money, and fame to outdistance whatever ran after him. However, he could not escape what ran inside him.<br /><br />Peace comes when we no longer feel as if we have to run away from what is inside. Perhaps, like Michael, we had an unhappy childhood. Perhaps, like him, we did not feel loved, cared for, or protected. Michael could be excused for thinking he had no childhood at all, because he was filling concert halls when most little boys are batting balls in the back yard. <br /><br />If memories of a lost or stolen childhood keep running inside our minds, we may become ill, unless we get professional help. These memories can cause us to angry at ourselves or at others. We may then act in ways that harm ourselves, harm others, chase others away, or try to bind others to us by force or threat. Some may try to re-live their childhood through children. <br /><br />Michael tried to revisit his childhood by creating a giant play space with its own zoo and amusement park. As an adult, he invited children to play with him. He had the overnight stays and the pajama parties he never could have had as a child. The child in Michael must have been amazed that the adult world thought he was harming any of these children. Perhaps he was indeed acting like the child who fulfills its own needs with no thought for what may follow.<br /><br />Like Michael, we may dislike our looks because of what others say about us. Most of have to live with our looks, but Michael wealth gave him choices. So he could afford the plastic surgery that changed him from being black, curly-headed, broad-nosed, and full-lipped to looking almost like a white female. <br /><br />In trying to outdistance what was running inside him, Michael might have become like the child who has no adult to guide him. He had the money to buy whatever he thought he needed. No one seemed to be able to say, “Michael, stop! That is not good for you.” Therefore, when Michael needed more and more medication to ease pain and help him fall asleep, he found those whom he could pay to bring him what he wanted. <br /><br />Michael was only fifty years old, and days away from his concert tour, when the medication took his life. With the fame and money that seemed to run after Michael, he was unable to come to terms with what ran inside of him.<br /><br />The best way to deal with what runs inside us is to love ourselves as we are. The best favor your mom and dad can do for you is to help you to be confident in who you are, how you look, and what you do. What you can do for yourself is to realize that the person who is unknown, penniless, and homeless might be more at ease with himself than Michael Jackson managed to be.<br /><br />Coming to terms with what runs inside can be a gateway to finding peace.<br /> <br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-63746146199095602312010-08-29T09:26:00.011-05:002010-08-29T13:11:54.678-05:00Sea and waves: accepting uncertainty<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpb53tXI_cfQjx_RvszhfQOEfMBLP8GLBaODTPplET08bc1wxrpYkh-zgkotphPgsdKiCm-j01i4We_sYxPVA7KI01AJe8jYLR0fInylOt_p7Vm7ncCv76vC9ns98d3W2CvBwrIp7vCfI/s1600/sea+waves.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 127px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpb53tXI_cfQjx_RvszhfQOEfMBLP8GLBaODTPplET08bc1wxrpYkh-zgkotphPgsdKiCm-j01i4We_sYxPVA7KI01AJe8jYLR0fInylOt_p7Vm7ncCv76vC9ns98d3W2CvBwrIp7vCfI/s320/sea+waves.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510861049423295906" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">There is no sea without waves. (Swahili)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />One of the biggest favors your elders can do for you is to show you that life will have ups and downs. <br /><br />Many societies promote a lie that there can be a sea without waves. Parents may believe that if they do more or less of this or that, their children will have an easier life. As we become adults, many of us believe that we can reach smooth seas if we get a college degree, become a top executive, and earn millions a year. We feel certain we will be happy if we are rich enough, slim enough, good-looking enough, and lucky enough to marry the person of our dreams.<br /><br />Advertisements are usually based on the myth of the sea without waves. We are told we will have the body, the job, the home, or the spouse that will provide us with a life of smooth seas. All we need to do is to use this deodorant, drink this beverage, or buy this face cream. We may then believe we are to blame when the waves keep coming despite all do and all we buy. So we do more, and buy more, and wonder why we still cannot be happier. <br /><br />If we flow with life's lessons, we learn that the sea is what it is. Sometimes it is smooth and wonderful for paddling. Sometimes the sea is angry as in a hurricane or destructive as in a tsunami. <br /><br />We may choose to stay in a protected harbor and try to enjoy smooth seas all the time. However, we may become bored and even envious of others when we see them become stronger after facing rough seas. <br /><br />The challenges you face as a baby will help you learn to trust yourself. You will spend many months crawling, standing, and falling down. Even when you think your legs are strong, you will still fall sometimes. If your parents tried to protect you from bruises, you would probably never be able to be a runner like your dad. <br /><br />When the seas are very rough, we may decide to remain on shore for a while. We need to judge when the sea is safe for us so we do not take unnecessary risks. We may also develop surfing talent, so we have reason to welcome the high waves when they come. Sailors have discovered amazing skills when they are caught in hurricanes that create waves as high as mountains. Those who live near the sea know that waves can be their friends and their teachers, as well as their means of surviving. The uncertainly of waves can build confidence that we have the ability to handle the unknown. We may even trust ourselves create waves! <br /><br />So, my grandniece, whatever you do, please leave the shore if you want to grow. Paddle, swim, surf, and sail through life, learning and growing with each new wave. <br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-41934027127375094912010-08-28T12:21:00.005-05:002010-08-28T12:39:13.809-05:00Lessons from travel and food<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFDJJXAZXaQ0is7FAcp6aNdvKHIkNUPnMQc-vOHHfpYURWlh-TM0Vnzsnz7uwvTRwXCDJXanU4QiTBfFiocl2NfOQIF2yf9xZB4LYCndzbGQL17Bnsz35M2hCVfBPX4aVJzgwoXjcwpE/s1600/Vegetarian_Curry.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFDJJXAZXaQ0is7FAcp6aNdvKHIkNUPnMQc-vOHHfpYURWlh-TM0Vnzsnz7uwvTRwXCDJXanU4QiTBfFiocl2NfOQIF2yf9xZB4LYCndzbGQL17Bnsz35M2hCVfBPX4aVJzgwoXjcwpE/s320/Vegetarian_Curry.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510514281288527762" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">A child that has never been in a strange town thinks her mother cooks best. (Togo)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Many of us travel to all kinds of strange towns and still think our mothers are the best cooks. However, travel will also help us to see that other people have a right to feel that their mother's cooking is also best. <br /><br />Jamaican food is spicy, so Jamaicans have a hard time adjusting to bland British food. Jamaicans will wonder how the British can expect to eat meat seasoned with just a dash of salt and pepper. For Jamaicans, meat has no taste without a generous amount of onion, garlic, hot pepper, and thyme. Curried goat is a favorite Jamaican dish, but people in some cultures would as soon eat goat as horse. <br /><br />To Jamaicans who love spicy foods, Ghanaian food can seem too hot, too heavy, too peppery, too great a mix of tastes. Where in Jamaica people will cook fish and meat in separate dishes, Ghanaians will have beef, pork, chicken, fresh fish, smoked fish, and snails in the same stew. So a host might honestly answer, “I don’t know” when a guest asks what is on a forkful of meat. <br /><br />Some who travel want to continue eating the food they always have at home. So tourists from the USA may prefer eating pizza, burgers, and chips while they are in Jamaica. British tourists might want to see roast beef and Yorkshire pudding on the menu in Spain. <br /><br />However, others use travel as the chance to try the unusual and experience what is unique in the culture of the country they are visiting. One of the best ways to get to know people is to try the foods that tell them their mothers are the best cooks. <br /><br />The Chinese swear by bird’s nest soup. Cooks use nests that are made from bird saliva and harvested in caves. This soup is in high demand in China, despite the cost – up to US$100 for a bowl. <br /><br />Some tourists will go to Cambodia especially to try the fried tarantulas. This dish costs just a few cents, and this delicacy tastes like crickets might taste. The spiders are crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. <br /><br />People in Korea eat live octopus. The tentacles are still moving on the plate when the dish is served. The live octopus will stick to the chopsticks, so dining can literally be a fight. <br /><br />When we travel, we learn there is not always one way that is best. We can learn to be open-minded about the ways of other people, even while holding to what is best for us. <br /><br />We may also discover what it was that made our mother’s food the best. Mother’s soup might have been a little to watery, her porridge a bit lumpy, and her turkey dry at best. However, the difference between mother’s cooking and cooking in a gourmet restaurant is the ingredient that no one else can match. <br /><br />Mother does her magic by ensuring that we taste the love that comes down to her from her grandmothers, and that she wants us to pass on to our grandchildren. Love is the ingredient that makes mother’s cooking always the best - for each of us. <br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-29578474144186297782010-08-27T10:37:00.003-05:002010-08-27T10:56:49.322-05:00Stooping to achieve our goals<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlu0OvuK_irqEMg2VMnnR-N3zceH3eRzUUnN8l3N-vXkyiC7sMBWmfIcO6bCthz3fbV2F-YhANUCFer0ay12nNDRnghZsljLWhp6vi_4A0HsRzJhP8ZRI78Y9V9g7HJ98OAtQSPLWhqw/s1600/bed.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlu0OvuK_irqEMg2VMnnR-N3zceH3eRzUUnN8l3N-vXkyiC7sMBWmfIcO6bCthz3fbV2F-YhANUCFer0ay12nNDRnghZsljLWhp6vi_4A0HsRzJhP8ZRI78Y9V9g7HJ98OAtQSPLWhqw/s320/bed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510115776129914738" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The person who wants what is under the bed must stoop for it. (Swahili)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />People sometimes have to crawl on their hands and knees to reach a goal. The trick is to be so confident in ourselves that we can come down low and still stand tall.<br /><br />In Jamaica, we tend to become locked into roles. We have some dividing lines between those who are supposed to stoop and those who must never stoop. I attended a boarding school where many of the girls were white, light-skinned and from well-off families. Teachers would punish us if we were caught washing our own clothes, because that was the job of the maids who were black and poor. The maids also cooked and cleaned, as the girls at my school were never expected to polish a floor (by hand in those days) or sweat over a stove (no fast food in those days). We could never touch a weed or trim a branch – only the gardeners were supposed to get their hands dirty working in the hot sun. <br /><br />When I was in my teens, I was one day in a group that included a girl who, like me, learned at school that she was not allowed to stoop. We were touring New York and took a break to eat because we were all hungry. The nearest place was a cafeteria. As we entered, the girl froze. She said she could not possibly eat there because she would have to carry a tray. In Jamaica, only maids carried trays. No amount of persuading would have her stoop even to have a meal. Since the girls in my group had also learned that ladies are supposed to be nice even when they do not feel like it, we all dragged our hungry selves to a restaurant where this girl could be served her meal. <br /><br />In general, those of us who left Jamaica surprised ourselves at how low we could stoop and perhaps stand even taller when we straightened up. Many who went overseas to study found that they would wait in vain if they expected maids to pick up after them. Their homes would become forests if they expected gardeners to mow their lawns. No one but themselves would shovel their snow. Even if they had washing machines and dryers, they still needed to fold their own clothes and put them away. They could live on fast food. However, they could be slimmer and healthier (and have more money to spare) if they learned how to cook for themselves. Help was available but costly. Some therefore saw an advantage in stooping for others, earning a living abroad by becoming someone's maid. <br /><br />However, barriers still exist in Jamaica between those who refuse to stoop and those who don’t want to be the ones expected always to stoop. For example, the manager of a business will feel entitled to an air-conditioned office with everything he needs for his comfort. At the same time, a guard might be lucky to have shelter from sun and rain when he is checking on each car entering the business place. The manager might believe it is beneath his dignity to pour himself a cup of coffee. His secretary must leave the heap of files on her desk to serve him. The manager's wife is still likely to expect her maid to keep the house tidy and make sure the meals are on the table. <br /><br />If we cannot stoop for what is important to us, we risk harming ourselves in the long run. The person who does the stooping can charge what he likes for the job, mislead us about what is under the bed, or keep for himself some of what he finds under the bed. As honest as the person might be, he will not be do as good a job of checking under the bed as we could, if only we would stoop and see what is really there. <br /><br />Grandniece, we may not always have to stoop, but we must never be too grand to be able to stoop. <br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-28182858204924607162010-08-26T08:07:00.004-05:002010-08-26T08:32:42.500-05:00Never too short to see the stars<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RoR7QFDk6f1o1t3m-yksUWsN6q6w5n9pKoc2lBCpqaltFlI1SWmB1kuahmpvGls4ct78lo126T9MtKD180FJaNN52faPuzZXyWwaXRiErSyrF1_B7WghpnIRFZ87hsWCU1T6cUcVkI0/s1600/stars.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RoR7QFDk6f1o1t3m-yksUWsN6q6w5n9pKoc2lBCpqaltFlI1SWmB1kuahmpvGls4ct78lo126T9MtKD180FJaNN52faPuzZXyWwaXRiErSyrF1_B7WghpnIRFZ87hsWCU1T6cUcVkI0/s320/stars.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509705467385164802" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">No matter how short you are, you will always see the stars. (Africa)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Some of us are physically short, and some of us are short of something else. We may think we are short of status, money, shelter, health, friends, or education. We may think we are short of peace, wisdom, justice, and freedom. However, we will never be too short to see the stars. No matter where we are in life, we can always have big dreams. We just need to look up. <br /><br />Lynn kept her eyes on the stars even when her life seemed short of everything that had meaning for her. In the 1980s, she lost her home and became separated from her husband George and her young children. One child was little more than a baby. Lynn and George were blamed for someone’s death, and they both were sent to prison for life. <br /><br />Lynn could not see George, unless at the rare times when those in charge of the prison allowed them to visit each other. Relatives and friends abroad took care of their children, so Lynn could not see (let alone raise) her son and two daughters. <br /><br />In the prison, Lynn was sometimes beaten. For seven years she was locked up in a cell alone. When she was finally allowed to speak with lawyers, she had almost forgotten how to use words. She worried about her husband and children, and she became sick. When it seemed she would die if she did not get medical help, those in charge of the prison allowed her to leave. However, they said she would have to return to the prison when she was healthy enough to continue serving her time. She and George were supposed to be locked up forever, so that only death was supposed to free either of them. <br /><br />The medical treatment took Lynn overseas. She was free in one sense, but this time her illness was her prison. She could finally see her children who were now adults and living in different countries. She was able to meet her first grandchild. However, she was too far away to have visits with George any more. From having at least food and shelter inside the prison, she now had to fend for herself in a world that had changed a lot in the sixteen years she was locked away. She could not work because of her illness, and so she depended on family and friends to help her meet her needs. <br /><br />Although she seemed short of everything, Lynn kept her eyes on the stars. Not for a moment did she doubt that she and George would be together again in this lifetime. Although she was only free till she was well enough to be a prisoner again, she worked to make George free. Since he was never supposed to leave prison, Lynn’s task would have seemed impossible to all except her. She never stopped listening for the phone call that would say George was coming home. Wherever Lynn lived, George’s spirit also lived. She would therefore choose spaces where he would be sure to enjoy. She decorated her bedroom so it would always be ready for George when (never if) he returned. <br /><br />After Lynn and George were separated for 26 years, the courts finally freed George. Lynn worked with lawyers who persuaded the courts that a life sentence did not mean someone would be locked up all his life. It meant the person could be free after a certain time, if he showed he was responsible. George spent his years in prison helping prisoners to read and write, as well as develop business skills. As a result, George helped to reduce the rate of persons returning to prison time after time. At one time when a hurricane blew down the prison, and George could have walked out, he remained behind. The lawyers said George had earned the right to be free. <br /><br />Lynn never thought of giving up on her dream. Asked if waking up with George in bed beside her did not seem like a daily surprise now, she said, “It’s not at all surprising to me. I always knew we would be together again.”<br /><br />My grandniece, the stars can seem far away, and many of the stars are very very far away. But as long as we keep looking up, we will never be too short to see them. And the stars will guide us to goals that would be impossible if we kept our heads to the ground. <br /><br />Our faith in our dreams can make the impossible happen.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-40621983748148394482010-08-25T09:17:00.005-05:002010-08-25T09:45:38.707-05:00Overcoming "enemies" to achieve success<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOw8WfhH0pAYR6Fx74PACIDvoxX7BFGgw-J4gvj1UaD0NyCuPLBnulRvRm_3ZknXrSmbmCgJOSzPNaiuBhyGAtj897bDJe1p5ohc_XzNeyiRJhK-dINYqvGQLvhKfyDjJHtlZsGoG1MJE/s1600/merlene+ottey.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOw8WfhH0pAYR6Fx74PACIDvoxX7BFGgw-J4gvj1UaD0NyCuPLBnulRvRm_3ZknXrSmbmCgJOSzPNaiuBhyGAtj897bDJe1p5ohc_XzNeyiRJhK-dINYqvGQLvhKfyDjJHtlZsGoG1MJE/s320/merlene+ottey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509352794538645570" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside cannot hurt you. (Africa) </span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />An important lesson in life is to have faith in ourselves. No matter who likes us or dislikes us, we will still like ourselves. No matter what people say we can do or cannot do, we will decide on our goals and set out to achieve them. No matter what other say is impossible, we will try to nurture even the grain of what is possible. <br /><br />Any thought that limits us is like an enemy within. For example, girls sometimes tell themselves that they cannot do mathematics. Kay was like that. She surprised herself by getting good marks at primary school. However, she dropped back when she decided that high school mathematics was too hard. What really happened was that she asked her teacher some questions, and her teacher gave her a look that said, “Child, are you stupid or what?” The look silenced Kay, and she started to keep her questions to herself. As her grades fell, she became more and more convinced that she was bad at mathematics. <br /><br />Even when she was grown up, Kay’s mind would freeze if anyone asked her to add (let alone multiply) numbers. The enemies had moved from outside to make their home in Kay’s mind. And Kay’s doubts about herself allowed the enemies to win.<br /><br />Sydney decided not to limit himself, and he was ready to ignore anyone who got between him and his dream of being a coach. Sydney had polio as a child, and wore leg braces all his life. He could not run or jump. However, he watched sports, read about sports, and pretty much lived and breathed sports. <br /><br />He became a French teacher in a boys’ school, mainly so he could be close to athletics. He didn't choose a girls' school because, in those days, classy ladies were not expected to sweat. This was long before the days of such outstanding Jamaican female athletes as Merlene Ottey and Shelley-Ann Fraser. Importantly, Merlene Ottey is one classy lady who is making history now by running in international meets at 50 years old. She is at an age at which athletes have long hung up their running spikes. But Merlene continues to listen to the voice that says, “I can.” <br /><br />When Sydney taught at the boys' school, he spent almost all his spare time on the play field. He inched his way into coaching, and gradually became chief athletics coach. Thanks to his skill, his boys’ school became almost unbeatable in track events. <br /><br />Despite his physical disability, Sydney is one of Jamaica’s legends in athletics coaching. He began a tradition that has benefited generations of athletes and led to Jamaica's outstanding record in sprint. Most of all, he is an example of what we can achieve when we do not allow the enemy within to make room for the enemies outside and keep us away from achieving our dreams. <br /><br />People will tell us we are not good enough mainly because they believe they are not good enough. So what they say applies to them, because they cannot know us as well as we know ourselves. The “enemies outside” can make war on us only if we allow other people’s fears to become ours as well. On the other hand, people who tell us we are not good enough can help us. They can give us the drive to prove them wrong. <br /><br />So, my grandniece, know that only the “enemies” of your making can hold you back. Only you can decide how far you go in life. <br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-39290689437400197582010-08-24T10:05:00.003-05:002010-08-24T10:31:30.770-05:00Using Internet to heal not damage<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcKrTRyFfFjOjwJJ8praH2sud1-UjaNNmsfuv3EDYitZzS2oNMSVrJkqJgDOEWWNFu_GgiZrFbbQBfWmfgLX_N4UdTnfMtgAvOE-WeiTrGBpRQ0NURM18xg7ysFI9_0WF_wNGp94tjUA/s1600/computer.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcKrTRyFfFjOjwJJ8praH2sud1-UjaNNmsfuv3EDYitZzS2oNMSVrJkqJgDOEWWNFu_GgiZrFbbQBfWmfgLX_N4UdTnfMtgAvOE-WeiTrGBpRQ0NURM18xg7ysFI9_0WF_wNGp94tjUA/s320/computer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508994470225426930" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">One who damages the character of another damages his own. (Yoruba) </span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />I was excited when I was first connected to the Internet. Sure my connection took forever in those dial-up days, but it was all magical for me then. This was my chance to make Marcus Garvey’s dream come true. I believed that people of similar mind would come together, share their dreams, and create a family that would bring about peace and prosperity. I still believe that day can come, perhaps when we learn to use the Internet more to heal than to damage. <br /><br />The first Internet group I joined was formed by Black activists. We all seemed united in wanting to fulfill Garvey’s mission. In one spot we could reach brothers and sisters from the US, Canada, Europe, and Africa. I imagined I would learn as much from them as they would learn from me. And together we would build a world in which Black people would respect each other, respect themselves, and be respected. <br /><br />This group led me to some lasting relationships. I developed a sisterhood with Askhari, and we went on to become fellow writers, writing partners, and business partners. The downside of the list was the anger people showed to each other. Members and fellow activists turned their energies against each other. People damaged themselves while trying to damage others. Worst of all was the damage done to the cause we all said we believed in.<br /><br />Too much character damage continues to take place on the Internet. To me, the abuse on message boards and networking sites like Facebook shows the number of people who damage their characters by their Internet posts. In the days before the Internet, character damage would spread by word of mouth, by hand-written letters, or by phone calls that were usually too costly for casual chat. Today, the damage can spread in seconds, with just one click of the mouse. <br /><br />In the days before the Internet, people could see each other’s faces or hear each other’s voices. The Internet today allows people to post messages without letting anyone know their real identity. It is easier to be nasty to people we do not know and who will never know who we are. <br /><br />But the same tool that can damage can also heal. Your mom and dad will teach you that lesson about about fire and about knives. Besides, if we turn around this Yoruba proverb, we can see that those who seek to heal will also be healed. This is the law of sowing and reaping. <br /><br />I have just become active on Skype, Zayda, so the Internet is about to allow me to see you on real time. All I have had so far are your pictures and your voice when you babble to me in our conversations. But we are about to come face to face, showing the power of the Internet to bring people together as well as divide them. <br /><br />The Internet is likely to play a much greater part in your world than in mine. I hope for you that you will use it to pursue Marcus Garvey’s dream of a world of greater peace and justice for our people. I hope you will understand the power of the Internet to damage, but that you will always use it to heal. <br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-20790255373330049192010-08-23T08:05:00.005-05:002010-08-23T08:47:48.911-05:00Choosing honesty to start the journey<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfAvOKQH-IksM386vhyphenhyphenIw0RhqJDu6MC4hQPmpIzj2lcOHUd6BRJQtiarocl4LEtWQS-TH-xfZ1M6tE5Y_cUFzFe36bOSWlSIQs5K9riUyM7S9X-dXRU_gEDSUCs34u1LfSYpw5sbvQbQ/s1600/journey.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfAvOKQH-IksM386vhyphenhyphenIw0RhqJDu6MC4hQPmpIzj2lcOHUd6BRJQtiarocl4LEtWQS-TH-xfZ1M6tE5Y_cUFzFe36bOSWlSIQs5K9riUyM7S9X-dXRU_gEDSUCs34u1LfSYpw5sbvQbQ/s320/journey.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508592852099325090" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">If you start a journey in dishonesty, you get lost. (Ghana)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />When I was a little girl, children had to learn what we called “memory gems”. This was one of them:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Speak the truth, and speak it ever.<br />Cost it what it will.<br />For he who hides the wrong he did<br />Did the wrong thing still.</span><br /><br />If we start out the journey telling lies, we usually have to tell more lies to cover up the first lies. Now, telling the truth may get us into trouble at the outset, but the trouble usually does not last long. People may not like what we say, but they will know they can trust our word. <br /><br />When I was about seven years old, my teacher wrote a note to my parents asking them to come and see her. In those days teachers would cane children for being naughty, but my teacher decided to tell my parents what I did and let them deal with me. I thought I was smart and “lost” the note at the bottom of my school bag. We may think we lie by what we say, but we also lie by what we do not say or fail to do. <br /><br />I thought I was safe till one day my teacher and my dad happened to meet. Well, when my dad reached home, he was furious. He would have been angry for a while if I had confessed everything right away. But sometimes when we are caught in a lie, we hope half-truths will keep us out of further trouble. I cannot remember just what I said, but I suspect I tried to be smart and cover my tracks. Maybe I admitted I brought the note home, and blamed the wind for blowing it away. Maybe I said my baby brother tore it up. I might have suggested that I gave dad the note but he was too busy to read it. Or I might have asked, "Which note?" <br /><br />Confessing the whole truth may have seemed hard at the time, but it was really easier than adding the lies. I might have missed a day or two (as against a week or two) of being allowed to go out and play with my friends. By trying to cover my tracks, I risked losing the trust of my dad and anyone else who fell into the web of lies that sometimes we are tempted to weave to avoid trouble. <br /><br />Today, I am grateful to my dad for showing me (by his own example as well) that I needed to speak the truth, no matter the cost. I also learned that the wrong we do has a way of surfacing, anyhow. <br /><br />Right now, the Prime Minister of Jamaica is facing trouble because many people find it hard to trust his word. First of all, he had refused to admit a wrong he did. When he the truth started to leak out, he admitted some of the wrong, but not all. However, more of the truth is coming out drip by drip, and the prime minister is beginning to look lost. Many people say they no longer trust him to be prime minister. <br /><br />Our lies may seem harmless at first. For example, someone asks us to help them and we agree because we don’t know how to tell the truth and say we cannot help. In addition, we might want the person to think well of us. We may then “forget” or give help in a way that it is not helpful to the person. Better we had told the truth about our feelings, and allowed the person to find help elsewhere. Better we risk losing a friend than have a friendship we have to keep by telling lies. <br /><br />The journey of life is not easy, my grandniece, but telling the truth helps you hold up your head along the way. <br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-62831158892978818492010-08-22T08:27:00.008-05:002010-08-22T09:03:31.867-05:00Letting go yesterday and living today<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQuUWstMU2_vd_XpSQk9PzQNckrp-IAYtmmlnCCHv5lnMpRJeEFX7bMtnV_xSBE4Kdn10XwdYjyE7-ZsJzr7cSUSdaUgseUeC23rhPWO0Q3Q3gfGEMapmYkUAm9x_E0y5jKlYQMw0JIoA/s1600/sunset+negril.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQuUWstMU2_vd_XpSQk9PzQNckrp-IAYtmmlnCCHv5lnMpRJeEFX7bMtnV_xSBE4Kdn10XwdYjyE7-ZsJzr7cSUSdaUgseUeC23rhPWO0Q3Q3gfGEMapmYkUAm9x_E0y5jKlYQMw0JIoA/s320/sunset+negril.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508232788143474514" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Yesterday and the day before yesterday are not like today. (Swahili)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />Each new day is unlike any that has gone before. <br /><br />This first year of your life is special for your mom and dad, because your daily changes remind that that nothing remains the same from one day to the next. Those close enough to you to see you grow can know that what is true about you, is true about us all. No day that is past can be anything like the day we have now.<br /><br />Yet many of us feel weighed down by our yesterdays as we get older. We may see ourselves as stuck in old thoughts and old habits. We allow our yesterdays to dictate what our today will be like. We allow the past to decide the future. <br /><br />But we can always take charge of today. <br /><br />Uncle Mass (my mother's brother whose real name is Colin) has been a farmer all his life. Being with living things is a way to remind us that each day is different. Plants grow and change through different seasons. Our plants in Jamaica do not have a long winter sleep as yours do in Canada, but we have seasons just the same. So Uncle Mass has his time to plant seeds, to nourish his plants, and to harvest the fruit. He keeps cows and goats as well, and each day for his animals is also different from the days that went before.<br /><br />Uncle Mass is now 93 years old. He continues to let go of the yesterdays and treat each new day like a gift. By eight o’clock each morning. Uncle Mass has completed about half-day’s work on his farm. He will take a break in the middle of the day when the sun hot, and then he is back doing his chores in the cool of the afternoon. He remains as slim and healthy as men young enough to be his grandsons. Recently, he was on his roof directing repairs. When I visit him, we discuss local and global politics, and he has opinions on all the events going on around him. He and his brother Bob are neighbours, but Uncle Mass is as independent as he was when I was a child. <br /><br />Aunt Ettie (my father’s sister)is a special example to me of focusing on what we can do in the present rather than living in regrets about yesterday. On one of her trips to England, someone stole all her money at the start of her holiday. I am sure she was sad for a moment, but she did not spend her “today” feeling sorry about what “yesterday” put in her way. Aunt Ettie called on family in England for help. A cousin was happy to lend her the funds she needed, and Aunt Ettie had a great trip. Only when she returned to Jamaica did she even mention to family here the loss she had suffered. <br /><br />Aunt Ettie showed us how useless it was to allow yesterday, with its joys or pains, to keep us from enjoying today. <br /><br />Yes, the joys of yesterday can hold us back if we allow them to do so. Some of us, when we are at school, forget that the good report was about yesterday’s work. We need to know that today is a different day with new things to learn if we want to keep growing. <br /><br />It seemed as if no one could beat Jamaica’s Usain Bolt after he broke the world record at the 100 metres sprint race. However, he recently had a reminder of how different yesterday is from today. A runner from the USA, Tyson Gay, recently ran faster than Usain in a race. <br /><br />Today is the day, my grandniece. The Romans used to say, “Carpe diem”. That means “capture the day.” May we, like Uncle Mass and Aunt Ettie, live fully in the present.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangazi Nothango (Yvonne)Yvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037336979170362685.post-31948765506237778892010-08-21T09:36:00.004-05:002010-08-21T10:00:21.631-05:00Families crossing life's rivers together<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXtDMEq28kVncP5Kd_aioI4wQC221PFDPHuA3eq3Y8pJfnrB6ojMvqSWEGeLMSJ9VigwT-bb0PvasC8K2wFvv13PQJc4gxE-dbMxq22gFROokTuVDFjN-jIVQc6YAfhKPNb56eeMIUt0E/s1600/River.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 77px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXtDMEq28kVncP5Kd_aioI4wQC221PFDPHuA3eq3Y8pJfnrB6ojMvqSWEGeLMSJ9VigwT-bb0PvasC8K2wFvv13PQJc4gxE-dbMxq22gFROokTuVDFjN-jIVQc6YAfhKPNb56eeMIUt0E/s320/River.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507875901363937538" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">A distant relative can help you cross a river. (Ethiopia)</span><br /><br />Dear Zayda,<br /><br />I learned the value of extended family when I lived in Ghana. At first I wondered that one person could have so many sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts. I could understand Jacob whose father had eight wives and who had 56 brothers and sisters. Then later I found out that “brothers” and “sisters” could be distant relatives in the same age group. “Uncles” and “aunts” could be distant relatives who were elders. Sometimes, as in Jamaica, “uncles” and “aunts: were connected by friendship rather than blood. <br /><br />In Ghana, relatives help each other. When I lived in Accra, I knew of no old people’s homes or children’s homes. A family would be ashamed to have strangers look after their loved ones. I grew up in a Jamaica where I do not recall seeing street people, let alone street children. Households always seemed to find space for another person, even if there was not a lot of money around.<br /><br />We had a relative, Aunt Beth, who was my model of a family member with a loving heart. She adopted thirteen children whose parents left Jamaica to find better jobs. Aunt Beth’s adopted children saw her as their “real” mother, and she treated them all as if she had given birth to them. To everyone’s surprise, Aunt Beth became pregnant after 25 years of childless marriage. <br /><br />Many Jamaicans used to take in children who might otherwise be unable to “cross a river”. A child would join a household to help with chores. In return the family would treat the child as a family member, and send the child to school. The down side with this system is seen today in Haiti with the “restavecs”. These are children who are sent to live in better-off households and are treated more like slaves. <br /><br />In families, we need to be willing to give and receive help from each other. Problems arise when each person looks out for himself or herself only. Families break up when relatives treat each other like bank accounts where they withdraw but do not lodge. The focus becomes money rather than love. So younger relatives might value elders only because of what they may leave behind when they die. <br /><br />When family members stop caring for each other, they may miss out on help in crossing life’s rivers. The young may need to know that others have crossed these rivers before, and survived. In addition, elders may miss the chance to help the young to see that life means more than money. <br /><br />You will have many rivers to cross in this life, my grandniece. But there is never any reason for you to cross the rivers alone. <br /><br />Blessings,<br /><br />Your shangaziYvonne McCalla Sobershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05701667047959600060noreply@blogger.com0