When I was in Nicaragua, I wrote an entry about how each individual's personhood is a summation of a multitude of moments, the sum total of unique experiences.... (see Now and Then in the archives from July). I feel like people easily loose their own sense of history- the sense of where they have been, what they have seen and how they have felt. Adulthood feels distant from childhood. Being focused on the present makes it easy to loose the awareness of other places. I've been thinking about this a lot. Perhaps because I am going through the developmental pains of becoming an adult- not just an adult- a professional, a doctor. Perhaps because the present demands of my life are so encompassing that I shake my head in disbelief when I think of long walks on dusty roads spent in unhurried conversation. I am constantly trying to stay in touch with the smattering of life experiences I have - hoping that at some point they will add up to wisdom.
Today I read something that more articulately expressed the idea that keeps swimming around in my head:
I am part of every place I have been: the path to the brook; the New York streets and my "short cut" through the Metropolitan museum. All the places I have ever walked, talked, slept, have changed and formed me.
I am part of all the people I have known. There was a black morning when a friend and I, both walking through separate hells, acknowledged that we would not survive were it not for our friends who, simply by being our friends, harrowed hell for us.
I am still every age I have been. Because I was once a child, I am always a child. Because I was once a search adolescent, given to moods and ecstasies, these are still part of me, and always will be. Because I was once a rebellious student, there is and always will be in me the student crying out for reform.
This does not mean that I ought to be trapped or enclosed in any of these ages, the perpetual student, the delayed adolescent, the childish aunt, but that they are in me to be drawn on; to forget is a form of suicide; my past is part of what makes the present and must not be denied or rejected or forgotten.
- Madeline L'Engle - A Circle of Quiet - page 200
Saturday, May 07, 2005
A rebuttal to the empirically validated....
It's no coincidence that just at this point in our insight into our mysteriousness as human beings struggling towards compassion, we are also moving into an awkward interest in the language of myth and fairy tale. The language of logical argument, of proofs, is the language of the limited self we know and can manipulate. But the language of parable and poetry, of storytelling, moves from imprisoned language of the provable into the freed language of what I must, for lack of another word, continue to call faith. For me this involves not trust in "the gods" but in God. But if the word God has understandably become offensive to many, then the language of poetry and story involves faith in the unknown potential in the human being, faith in courage and honor and nobility, faith in love, our love of each other, and our dependence on each other. And it involves for me a constantly renewed awareness of the fact that if I am a human being who writes, and who sends my stories out into the world for people to read, then I must have courage to make a commitment to the unknown and unknowable (in the sense of intellectual proof), the world of love and particularity which gives light to the darkness.
-Madeleine L'Engle - A Cirlce of Quiet - page 194
-Madeleine L'Engle - A Cirlce of Quiet - page 194
Friday, May 06, 2005
5 years
Rob and I have been married for five years today.
We were engaged to be married during my last year at Davis. I didn't know anyone else who was engaged or even thinking about marriage. Among the highly educated in my generation, 21 is a ridiculous age to marry- you are still in Jr high for an age cohort that doesn't have children until 35. Although it was an oddity at the beginning, I get the feeling that our marriage is enviable to many of our friends. In our best moments we manage to balance being totally connected with allowing space to celebrate our uniqueness. In some ways I think we've "fallen into" more maturity than we've earned through experience or intelligence (gracious a Dios). Not to paint too rosy a picture... growing into adulthood together has certainly caused tension as we've struggled to carve out a life that has room for lots of personality, two careers and a whole host of different interests.
I am so grateful to have had the last five years with Rob. I am glad we met when we were young. I am glad we were brave enough to choose to commit to each other. I am glad that we fit easily beside each other in life. I'm glad that the time logged or the number of years married doesn't really matter to us because the particular markers are overshadowed by the timelessness of a lifelong love- I can't really remember life before Rob and don't anticipate much life after him- therefore it feels strange to step into a timeline for one day.
All this analysis- I am overjoyed to dress up and go out to a quiet dinner!
We were engaged to be married during my last year at Davis. I didn't know anyone else who was engaged or even thinking about marriage. Among the highly educated in my generation, 21 is a ridiculous age to marry- you are still in Jr high for an age cohort that doesn't have children until 35. Although it was an oddity at the beginning, I get the feeling that our marriage is enviable to many of our friends. In our best moments we manage to balance being totally connected with allowing space to celebrate our uniqueness. In some ways I think we've "fallen into" more maturity than we've earned through experience or intelligence (gracious a Dios). Not to paint too rosy a picture... growing into adulthood together has certainly caused tension as we've struggled to carve out a life that has room for lots of personality, two careers and a whole host of different interests.
I am so grateful to have had the last five years with Rob. I am glad we met when we were young. I am glad we were brave enough to choose to commit to each other. I am glad that we fit easily beside each other in life. I'm glad that the time logged or the number of years married doesn't really matter to us because the particular markers are overshadowed by the timelessness of a lifelong love- I can't really remember life before Rob and don't anticipate much life after him- therefore it feels strange to step into a timeline for one day.
All this analysis- I am overjoyed to dress up and go out to a quiet dinner!
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Wonderful procrastination
Instead of working on my literature review for my dissertation, I have been reading a book called A Circle of Quiet by Madeleine L'Engle. It is absolutely delicious. It is a journal-type book in which she reflects on middle adulthood and the challenges of raising her children and maintaining her career as an author. It has been wonderful to hear a voice that may foreshadow my own in twenty-five years. Hearing an older woman reflect on being fifty-something with joy, maturity, confidence and a deep sense of her own beauty, makes me feel hopeful that life will not always be as chaotic as it has felt recently. There will be times when I am more settled, when I can look back at the rich blessings of life with some of the blanks filled in. Youth is so idealized in our culture, but tonight I told Rob and I am looking forward to being fifty and knowing more and caring less.
Here are some tasty morsels-
about aging:
"So the challenge I face with children is the redemption of adulthood. We must make it evident that maturity is the fulfillment of childhood and adolescence, not a diminishing; that it is an affirmation of life, not a denial; that it is entering fully into our essential selves" (p. 106).
about caring (for me, about becoming a therapist):
"It takes a tremendous maturity, a maturity I don't possess, to strike a balance of immovableness/detachment which makes us creatively useful, able to be compassionate, to be involved in the other person's suffering rath than in our own response to it. False compassion, or sentimentality, always leads us to escape by withdrawing, by becoming cold and impassive and wouding" (p. 118).
I like the line about being creatively useful.
Here are some tasty morsels-
about aging:
"So the challenge I face with children is the redemption of adulthood. We must make it evident that maturity is the fulfillment of childhood and adolescence, not a diminishing; that it is an affirmation of life, not a denial; that it is entering fully into our essential selves" (p. 106).
about caring (for me, about becoming a therapist):
"It takes a tremendous maturity, a maturity I don't possess, to strike a balance of immovableness/detachment which makes us creatively useful, able to be compassionate, to be involved in the other person's suffering rath than in our own response to it. False compassion, or sentimentality, always leads us to escape by withdrawing, by becoming cold and impassive and wouding" (p. 118).
I like the line about being creatively useful.
Feminism and theology
I spent the weekend in lovely Portland attending the annual conference of the Western Psychological Association. Allegra and I presented a poster on the theoretical overlap between a feminist approach to psychotherapy and Christian theology. Sound bizarre? It is actually quite possible.
In case you are interested, here is a sample:
Feminist theory:
1. The personal is political. Personal struggles are connected to larger social and political structures. In addressing individual and social transformation, it is imperative that the therapist recognize the political nature of therapy and be committed to being an agent of socio-political change (Enns, 1997). As part of their individual healing process, therapists may encourage clients to pursue community and societal-level changes.
Theological response:
1. Faith is political. To participate in Israel’s covenantal relationship with God is to act politically by challenging the unjust status quo. The four main Hebrew and Greek words for justice are used 1,060 times in the Bible. Laments in both the Old and New Testaments challenge injustice, and oppressive power dynamics (Billman & Migliore, 1999). The Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7) is highlighted as a political and ethical discourse which asserts that Christ’s new kingdom is a practical mandate to struggle against mechanisms of bondage (Friesen, Langan, & Stassen, 1998). Therapeutic goals reflect an ethical principle that mental health involves alleviating injustice. In the Christian tradition, the Church body is an arena for ethical discernment for healthier and more just standards of living (Dueck, 1995).
Feminist theory:
2. Egalitarian therapeutic relationship. Feminist therapists address power differentials within society and the therapeutic relationship. Clients are viewed as competent, co-investigators and are invited to be active participants in defining and producing change. Therapists clearly state their values at the outset of therapy in an effort to demystify the process and prevent destructive power hierarchies (Enns, 1997). Most feminist approaches to therapy emphasize the importance of the therapeutic relationships. It is in solidarity with an equal other that the wounds of injustice are formed into sources of power.
Theological response:
2. Mutuality in relationships is Biblical. The Biblical narrative supports mutual thriving for men and women. Men and women were both created in the image of God, blessed as good creations, and entrusted with the care of other creatures. Although the Hebraic law considered only circumcised men to be legitimate members of the community, the incarnation of Jesus signified a new mutuality, equality, and ethic of gender reconciliation (Van Leeuwen, 1990). In the New Testament, Jesus invited both men and women to follow him. He defended women who wanted to learn and affirmed women’s authority to bear witness to important events. In the new church both men and women were baptized and participants in the Eucharist celebration.
In case you are interested, here is a sample:
Feminist theory:
1. The personal is political. Personal struggles are connected to larger social and political structures. In addressing individual and social transformation, it is imperative that the therapist recognize the political nature of therapy and be committed to being an agent of socio-political change (Enns, 1997). As part of their individual healing process, therapists may encourage clients to pursue community and societal-level changes.
Theological response:
1. Faith is political. To participate in Israel’s covenantal relationship with God is to act politically by challenging the unjust status quo. The four main Hebrew and Greek words for justice are used 1,060 times in the Bible. Laments in both the Old and New Testaments challenge injustice, and oppressive power dynamics (Billman & Migliore, 1999). The Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7) is highlighted as a political and ethical discourse which asserts that Christ’s new kingdom is a practical mandate to struggle against mechanisms of bondage (Friesen, Langan, & Stassen, 1998). Therapeutic goals reflect an ethical principle that mental health involves alleviating injustice. In the Christian tradition, the Church body is an arena for ethical discernment for healthier and more just standards of living (Dueck, 1995).
Feminist theory:
2. Egalitarian therapeutic relationship. Feminist therapists address power differentials within society and the therapeutic relationship. Clients are viewed as competent, co-investigators and are invited to be active participants in defining and producing change. Therapists clearly state their values at the outset of therapy in an effort to demystify the process and prevent destructive power hierarchies (Enns, 1997). Most feminist approaches to therapy emphasize the importance of the therapeutic relationships. It is in solidarity with an equal other that the wounds of injustice are formed into sources of power.
Theological response:
2. Mutuality in relationships is Biblical. The Biblical narrative supports mutual thriving for men and women. Men and women were both created in the image of God, blessed as good creations, and entrusted with the care of other creatures. Although the Hebraic law considered only circumcised men to be legitimate members of the community, the incarnation of Jesus signified a new mutuality, equality, and ethic of gender reconciliation (Van Leeuwen, 1990). In the New Testament, Jesus invited both men and women to follow him. He defended women who wanted to learn and affirmed women’s authority to bear witness to important events. In the new church both men and women were baptized and participants in the Eucharist celebration.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Sunday morning service
Sometimes Rob and I find it difficult to make it to church. There is a Saturday evening service we like, but it doesn't always work out. Then there is the standard Sunday morning, but that has its own problems, if for instance we want to go surfing (which is best in the morning). Some weekends we are bad about communicating what we are expecting to do. We are often out of town. Sometimes we just don't feel like going.
Because of our organizational inaptitude, this morning we made a last minute decision to go to the church nearest to our house, a Methodist church one block away. It is a small church with an even smaller congregation. The choir wore robes and sang traditional hymns with a little bit of sway. The minister was an African American woman who greeted us with hugs and insisted we come back.
The sermon was about the role of spiritual discernment or "sitting with Jesus" in the midst of education. A different type of topic, surprisingly specific. She used the Amaeus (sp?) Road story from Luke. It was very encouraging to me for the literal reason that I have been struggling with school for the last few days. "Am I making the right decisions? Can I make it through the rest of the program without falling apart? Is this the best field for me? Will I ever be a good therapist?" The minister's talk reminded me that even the details of the life can have profound spiritual meaning. Education, the forming of intellect and vocation, is particularly important from a spiritual perspective. It reminded me that I am not filling my mind for myself alone, but so that I can speak, as one who is taught, a word that might bring healing to my fellow human. Thinking about my training as an activity that God is involved with allows me to breath easier. It is not all up to me.
I know some of you reading this may think that faith in general and church in specific is a crutch or a sham or waste of time. I've had my own journey through all those thoughts. Most simply what I've concluded is well expressed by Anne Lamott in the book Traveling Mercies:
"Most of the people I know who have what I want - which is to say, purpose, heart, balance, gratitude, joy - are people with a deep sense of spirituality. They are people in community, who pray, or practice their faith- people banding together to work on themselves and for human rights. They follow a brighter light than the glimmering of their own candle; they are part of something beautiful" (p. 100).
I felt that today, in the tiny group of people who looked different than me, who I had never met before. I felt convicted of trying too hard to read with only the dim light of myself. I needed the brighter light of other followers to help me see more clearly. Thank you.
Because of our organizational inaptitude, this morning we made a last minute decision to go to the church nearest to our house, a Methodist church one block away. It is a small church with an even smaller congregation. The choir wore robes and sang traditional hymns with a little bit of sway. The minister was an African American woman who greeted us with hugs and insisted we come back.
The sermon was about the role of spiritual discernment or "sitting with Jesus" in the midst of education. A different type of topic, surprisingly specific. She used the Amaeus (sp?) Road story from Luke. It was very encouraging to me for the literal reason that I have been struggling with school for the last few days. "Am I making the right decisions? Can I make it through the rest of the program without falling apart? Is this the best field for me? Will I ever be a good therapist?" The minister's talk reminded me that even the details of the life can have profound spiritual meaning. Education, the forming of intellect and vocation, is particularly important from a spiritual perspective. It reminded me that I am not filling my mind for myself alone, but so that I can speak, as one who is taught, a word that might bring healing to my fellow human. Thinking about my training as an activity that God is involved with allows me to breath easier. It is not all up to me.
I know some of you reading this may think that faith in general and church in specific is a crutch or a sham or waste of time. I've had my own journey through all those thoughts. Most simply what I've concluded is well expressed by Anne Lamott in the book Traveling Mercies:
"Most of the people I know who have what I want - which is to say, purpose, heart, balance, gratitude, joy - are people with a deep sense of spirituality. They are people in community, who pray, or practice their faith- people banding together to work on themselves and for human rights. They follow a brighter light than the glimmering of their own candle; they are part of something beautiful" (p. 100).
I felt that today, in the tiny group of people who looked different than me, who I had never met before. I felt convicted of trying too hard to read with only the dim light of myself. I needed the brighter light of other followers to help me see more clearly. Thank you.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Relationships and artichokes
I ate a lovely artichoke for dinner tonight. I particularly like artichokes, because they are a recreational food. Eating an artichoke is an event. It takes time to cook it, carefully peel all those leaves and then pull out the little furry strings... it all climaxes in the small, but deliciously yummy heart.
To my knowledge I was the first one in my immediate family to eat an artichoke. During my second year of college I came home for a weekend wanting to show my family all the new foods I'd learned from my vegitarian roommates (humus & asparagus were also on the list). My parents, who were raised in Indiana, had never experienced the arduous, and distinctly Californian artichoke. It was fun to "introduce" them to a new food (I have since also introduced sushi into the family diet!).
I've been trading voicemails with my brothers this week. It has been almost ten years since I left my parent's house. My youngest brother has gone from an 11-year-old to a man in the time I've been gone. As I grew up, I assumed that my family would always be there to bother me, play with me and take care of me. At the same time, I always assumed that I would leave home and create my own life for myself. I didn't realize that the two assumptions were not necessarily in line. Independence is in my blood. I never wanted to stay in my hometown and I don't think I would last longer than one week under the same roof as any of my family members. I have a thriving separate life, yet, lately I have had a deep longing for less separateness.
Before we moved here, people warned us that Los Angeles is a lonely city. Rob and I didn't pay much attention. We are social, proactive people. We figured we wouldn't have trouble finding friends. We have not had trouble finding friends.... but it has been difficult to find people who "do" friendship the same way that we do. It seems like people are too busy, or they live too far away. We had a difficult conversation with one couple that helped us realize that their expectation for a close friendship was seeing each other once a month. Our expectation is like once a week! My schedule changes every 10 weeks and it feels like my friendship circle changes that often too. For two academic quarters I was good friends with B and then I have not seen her for three months. Grad students do friendship according to convenience. All of us are too busy and not many people create space to live a relational life. There is are also elements of pettiness and competitiveness that can poison friendships. I want to say that I am still different, that my high commitment to relationships has survived LA and grad school. Yet, I often don't return e-mails and calls, or feel too busy to linger in casual conversation. To say I am different would be to lie to myself. I am critiquing a trend that I am part of, even though I desperately want out of it.
In a class this week, Dave Foy, a well-known trauma expert and one of my research advisors, made the off-hand comment that if he had to go through a traumatic experience, the protective factor that he would choose would be social support. Some things make trauma worse, some things "buffer" the negative impact of horrible experiences. Research shows that friends and family are perhaps the most valuable asset during difficult times. Across the board, people who are isolated, lonely and don't feel like they have friends and family to help, have the worst mental health.
Dave's comment touched a nerve with me. With some wonderful exceptions (D&K), I feel like my LA friendships are precarious and would not necessarily withstand a crisis. I deeply miss the years in Sacramento, when we lived near people who thought as highly of friendship as we do, people I still count on for counsel and comfort. I also miss being near my parents and brothers, the people who are obliged to love me no matter what.
Rob and I both feel like we are in a holding pattern, like we are waiting out school at which time we can go back to "real life". It just doesn't feel like real life without strong relationships. Life is little more than monotony without someone to introduce you to artichokes.
To my knowledge I was the first one in my immediate family to eat an artichoke. During my second year of college I came home for a weekend wanting to show my family all the new foods I'd learned from my vegitarian roommates (humus & asparagus were also on the list). My parents, who were raised in Indiana, had never experienced the arduous, and distinctly Californian artichoke. It was fun to "introduce" them to a new food (I have since also introduced sushi into the family diet!).
I've been trading voicemails with my brothers this week. It has been almost ten years since I left my parent's house. My youngest brother has gone from an 11-year-old to a man in the time I've been gone. As I grew up, I assumed that my family would always be there to bother me, play with me and take care of me. At the same time, I always assumed that I would leave home and create my own life for myself. I didn't realize that the two assumptions were not necessarily in line. Independence is in my blood. I never wanted to stay in my hometown and I don't think I would last longer than one week under the same roof as any of my family members. I have a thriving separate life, yet, lately I have had a deep longing for less separateness.
Before we moved here, people warned us that Los Angeles is a lonely city. Rob and I didn't pay much attention. We are social, proactive people. We figured we wouldn't have trouble finding friends. We have not had trouble finding friends.... but it has been difficult to find people who "do" friendship the same way that we do. It seems like people are too busy, or they live too far away. We had a difficult conversation with one couple that helped us realize that their expectation for a close friendship was seeing each other once a month. Our expectation is like once a week! My schedule changes every 10 weeks and it feels like my friendship circle changes that often too. For two academic quarters I was good friends with B and then I have not seen her for three months. Grad students do friendship according to convenience. All of us are too busy and not many people create space to live a relational life. There is are also elements of pettiness and competitiveness that can poison friendships. I want to say that I am still different, that my high commitment to relationships has survived LA and grad school. Yet, I often don't return e-mails and calls, or feel too busy to linger in casual conversation. To say I am different would be to lie to myself. I am critiquing a trend that I am part of, even though I desperately want out of it.
In a class this week, Dave Foy, a well-known trauma expert and one of my research advisors, made the off-hand comment that if he had to go through a traumatic experience, the protective factor that he would choose would be social support. Some things make trauma worse, some things "buffer" the negative impact of horrible experiences. Research shows that friends and family are perhaps the most valuable asset during difficult times. Across the board, people who are isolated, lonely and don't feel like they have friends and family to help, have the worst mental health.
Dave's comment touched a nerve with me. With some wonderful exceptions (D&K), I feel like my LA friendships are precarious and would not necessarily withstand a crisis. I deeply miss the years in Sacramento, when we lived near people who thought as highly of friendship as we do, people I still count on for counsel and comfort. I also miss being near my parents and brothers, the people who are obliged to love me no matter what.
Rob and I both feel like we are in a holding pattern, like we are waiting out school at which time we can go back to "real life". It just doesn't feel like real life without strong relationships. Life is little more than monotony without someone to introduce you to artichokes.
My ankles were on MTV
Last summer, when Rob and I were going through customs at LAX on our way home from Costa Rica, we watched a film crew capture a young woman and two children greet a man arriving on a plane. Rob, the expert on pop culture, identified the man as the drummer from Blink-182. We were flipping through channels tonight when we had a strange sense of deja vu. The airport scene was on MTV. In the background of the scene, we saw our legs, my red flowered skirt, flip-flops, and backpacks. Strange reality trip.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Settling in
I have been home for several days. I am enjoying wireless internet, my own bed, and looking at stars while sitting in the hot tub (this is one of the wonderful months of the year that we can see stars in LA). It has been more difficult than expected to settle back into the schedule. I have been waking up around 3 a.m. and feeling really tired in the late afternoon. Wednesday afternoon I had a consultation meeting led by the dean of my school. I feel asleep in the middle of it. Humbling.
Although I am tired, there is a deep place inside of me that has been set on fire by my experience in China. It is emerging gently from the tiredness. It is a mixture of gratitude, wonder, respect and thoughtfulness. My favorite things were my talks with Angela about the challenges of being a young, female professional (in China and the US), watching Elizabeth come alive in her home culture, leading a group of academics in the hokey pokey, and interacting with counseling students who were hungry to help the hurting people around them.
Business cards are important in China. I had some specially printed before I went. When someone gives you their card, you receive it in both hands, read it carefully, and put it in a safe place. The business card represents the person. When you give or receive a card, you give or receive a part of yourself. Perhaps it is not romantic, but the symbolism is important. I now have a stack of Chinese cards on my desk. I have no idea what I will do with them, but there they sit because I can't throw them away and I don't want to put them in a drawer. They represent the gift that I received from every person that I met in China. They are from the people who hosted me, told me their story, answered my questions, listened to me talk, or simply smiled because that was the best exchange possible. They proudly represented China to me and invited me to know and appreciate their culture. I attempted to reciprocate by giving them my card, rethinking my knowledge and training from their perspective, listening carefully to a language I did not understand, and trying to absorb all that I could from one of the deepest, most diverse, complex countries in the world. I clearly received much more than I gave.
Although I am tired, there is a deep place inside of me that has been set on fire by my experience in China. It is emerging gently from the tiredness. It is a mixture of gratitude, wonder, respect and thoughtfulness. My favorite things were my talks with Angela about the challenges of being a young, female professional (in China and the US), watching Elizabeth come alive in her home culture, leading a group of academics in the hokey pokey, and interacting with counseling students who were hungry to help the hurting people around them.
Business cards are important in China. I had some specially printed before I went. When someone gives you their card, you receive it in both hands, read it carefully, and put it in a safe place. The business card represents the person. When you give or receive a card, you give or receive a part of yourself. Perhaps it is not romantic, but the symbolism is important. I now have a stack of Chinese cards on my desk. I have no idea what I will do with them, but there they sit because I can't throw them away and I don't want to put them in a drawer. They represent the gift that I received from every person that I met in China. They are from the people who hosted me, told me their story, answered my questions, listened to me talk, or simply smiled because that was the best exchange possible. They proudly represented China to me and invited me to know and appreciate their culture. I attempted to reciprocate by giving them my card, rethinking my knowledge and training from their perspective, listening carefully to a language I did not understand, and trying to absorb all that I could from one of the deepest, most diverse, complex countries in the world. I clearly received much more than I gave.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
East and West
China must have one of the most complex cultures in the world. Chinese people are very proud of their old culture- one of the oldest surviving cultures on earth, going back more than 5000 years. One university student commented, "Long history makes me feel thicker, like I have a better or longer perspective that those with a shorter history." At moments, I could feel the depth of this history, visiting the Great Wall and the Forbidden City, or talking with my new Chinese friends... A solidness and depth come with being part of a culture that has survived so long. It seems to give people a strong identity, or a sense that certain parts of life are permanent and can be deeply trusted. I think being Chinese has a very different connotation than being American. A proclamation of American identity may be followed up by a "WOOHOO!!!" or an "and damn proud!" Americans are eager to celebrate our innovation, wealth and center position on the world stage. Expression of Chinese identity would never be so trite or close to the surface. My guess is that one would express what it means to be Chinese by making an analogy with a mountain or an old, giant tree. A Chinese person does not proclaim cultural greatness but smiles demurely and reflects on belonging to a culture that has survived every conceivable danger. In this way, China is the tortoise and America is the hare.
It has been difficult for me to wrap my mind around the presence of the west in the east. In spite of the deep cultural roots and a clear desire to respect and preserve the essence of being Chinese, China also seems very hungry to consume western values and ways of thinking. The cities are thoroughly modern. The academy is thoroughly modern. I met a nine-year old who was beginning algebra; abstract, representative reasoning at age nine. She asked a series of questions about God, all of which were logically deduced, evidence based inquiries. Not that evidence questions are bad questions, but I found them suprising in someone so young who grew up in the land of Confusious. Her questions left very little space for mystery or faith. My wise professor whispered, "she is a modern thinker." In our seminars, we constantly got solution-oriented questions. “How do you fix….” “What is the treatment for….” As if there is an answer or remedy for human suffering. In every city I visited, someone took me to a shopping mall. China seems to be increasing western in its emphasis on convenience, absolutes, competition, market economy and linear thinking.
Linear thinking... but not freethinking. Blogs are blocked in China. I cannot view my own blog. I have to email my posts to Rob who puts them up for me. The BBC website is blocked. I was doing a little research on google and could not view about half of the links. For all the western influence, there is almost no evidence of movies or music (not that this is a bad thing, but it is interesting). While we have been in Beijing, many people have made comments like, "we're in the capital, and you have to be careful." I am not sure what I am supposed to be careful of... or what could possibly happen if I am not careful (keep in mind our objectives on this trip are to work with the registered church and various academic institutions).
China is a complex, mysterious culture navigating the arduous fence between ancient and modern, east and west.
It has been difficult for me to wrap my mind around the presence of the west in the east. In spite of the deep cultural roots and a clear desire to respect and preserve the essence of being Chinese, China also seems very hungry to consume western values and ways of thinking. The cities are thoroughly modern. The academy is thoroughly modern. I met a nine-year old who was beginning algebra; abstract, representative reasoning at age nine. She asked a series of questions about God, all of which were logically deduced, evidence based inquiries. Not that evidence questions are bad questions, but I found them suprising in someone so young who grew up in the land of Confusious. Her questions left very little space for mystery or faith. My wise professor whispered, "she is a modern thinker." In our seminars, we constantly got solution-oriented questions. “How do you fix….” “What is the treatment for….” As if there is an answer or remedy for human suffering. In every city I visited, someone took me to a shopping mall. China seems to be increasing western in its emphasis on convenience, absolutes, competition, market economy and linear thinking.
Linear thinking... but not freethinking. Blogs are blocked in China. I cannot view my own blog. I have to email my posts to Rob who puts them up for me. The BBC website is blocked. I was doing a little research on google and could not view about half of the links. For all the western influence, there is almost no evidence of movies or music (not that this is a bad thing, but it is interesting). While we have been in Beijing, many people have made comments like, "we're in the capital, and you have to be careful." I am not sure what I am supposed to be careful of... or what could possibly happen if I am not careful (keep in mind our objectives on this trip are to work with the registered church and various academic institutions).
China is a complex, mysterious culture navigating the arduous fence between ancient and modern, east and west.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Pile of Stones
I began to learn about China in Miss Montgomery’s sixth grade class. We read a book about Chinese people living in America called The Year of the Dragon and Jackie Robinson. We watched National Geographic specials and read Chinese poetry. The unit culminated in a final project for which I decided to make a model of the Great Wall. I checked out books from the library that showed photos and used them as the basis for constructing my model. My mom helped me make thick play dough with salt, flour and water and on a piece of thick cardboard I fashioned mountains and a neat little wall with several guard towers. After it dried, I painted it green, brown and gray. I was so proud of it!
Today, 14 years later, I visited the Great Wall. The area accessible from Beijing is a popular tourist spot. The base of the wall was crawling with people making it hard to find a space to walk. The walking was tough, the stone steps are uneven, and some are worn to the point of being slick. Parts of the Wall were very steep, I had to put my hands on the stairs in front of me and climb with all fours. The air was thin and cold. Elizabeth has an injured ankle so I walked alone. I walked and I walked until the crowd thinned out. As I approached each guard tower, I could see the next one which inevitably did not look that far away. I walked through six guard towers until I reached the highest point and the end of that part of the Wall. At the top there were only a few people scattered here and there within my range of sight. I walked alone on the wall. The cloudy day felt ancient and the stones were cold and stately against my palm. I continuously marveled at the incredible task of building such a huge wall on steep mountains without modern machines. Many people died during construction. Incidentally, the Mongolian army surmounted the wall and invaded Beijing. The wall, the only human-made structure visible from the moon, failed to fulfill its purpose.
As I walked, random thoughts floated in and out of my head… the human desire to defy nature… the challenge of protecting an ancient city… a ruler’s willingness to sacrifice lives in order to fulfill some goal… It seems that history repeats itself and as Ecclesiastes says, there is nothing new under the sun. As I walked alone on the highest parts of the Great Wall of China, I felt like a very small part of the cycle of history. Very small, but a part nonetheless.
Today, 14 years later, I visited the Great Wall. The area accessible from Beijing is a popular tourist spot. The base of the wall was crawling with people making it hard to find a space to walk. The walking was tough, the stone steps are uneven, and some are worn to the point of being slick. Parts of the Wall were very steep, I had to put my hands on the stairs in front of me and climb with all fours. The air was thin and cold. Elizabeth has an injured ankle so I walked alone. I walked and I walked until the crowd thinned out. As I approached each guard tower, I could see the next one which inevitably did not look that far away. I walked through six guard towers until I reached the highest point and the end of that part of the Wall. At the top there were only a few people scattered here and there within my range of sight. I walked alone on the wall. The cloudy day felt ancient and the stones were cold and stately against my palm. I continuously marveled at the incredible task of building such a huge wall on steep mountains without modern machines. Many people died during construction. Incidentally, the Mongolian army surmounted the wall and invaded Beijing. The wall, the only human-made structure visible from the moon, failed to fulfill its purpose.
As I walked, random thoughts floated in and out of my head… the human desire to defy nature… the challenge of protecting an ancient city… a ruler’s willingness to sacrifice lives in order to fulfill some goal… It seems that history repeats itself and as Ecclesiastes says, there is nothing new under the sun. As I walked alone on the highest parts of the Great Wall of China, I felt like a very small part of the cycle of history. Very small, but a part nonetheless.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
A place to lay my head
We arrived in Beijing last night after sitting on the runway in the plane for over an hour. It felt like a long trip. We arrived at a hotel illuminated with neon Budweiser signs. A bass drum beat filled the air. The lobby was full of men smoking and lounging around looking listless and hungry. We checked into our room which was dark and old. The grout in the bathroom was black and peeling. The place was a dive! Elizabeth and I double checked the dead bolt. This morning we made an executive decision to pursue an upgrade. Elizabeth called a friend from her church in LA who called her father who called his sister who called her daughter who is an influential engineer here in Beijing. She told us she would find us a new hotel. Several hour later she picked us up in her Audi and drove us to the hotel that the government uses to host foreign dignitaries. It is like a park. Lots of grass and open space (something rare so far in urban China). The interior is decorated with marble, crystal chandeliers, and rare works of art. This woman arranged for us to pay about $60 a night. We found a card in our room indicating that our room usually goes for $200 a night. It is all about the connections.
The woman, Lili, spent the evening with us. She took us out on the town which consisted of visiting several malls (complete with Chanel, Versace, and Chinese style clothing priced over $100), stopping in at Starbucks, and a huge meal that we could only eat half of. (Hmmm, just like America.) Beijing flaunts its development. The city is gearing up to host the Olympics in 2008 so there is building and beautification everywhere. I feel like I have yet to see the real China. The cities are veiled in a thick western make-up and you can't quite see the real face.
The woman, Lili, spent the evening with us. She took us out on the town which consisted of visiting several malls (complete with Chanel, Versace, and Chinese style clothing priced over $100), stopping in at Starbucks, and a huge meal that we could only eat half of. (Hmmm, just like America.) Beijing flaunts its development. The city is gearing up to host the Olympics in 2008 so there is building and beautification everywhere. I feel like I have yet to see the real China. The cities are veiled in a thick western make-up and you can't quite see the real face.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Around Nanjing
Today was our day off. Elizabeth and I visited several tourist sites in Nanjing including the Sun Yetsen Mausoleum, the Purple Mountain, and the Nanjing Massacre Memorial. It was a very cold rainy day so we did the best we could with limited time and the desire to not get too cold.
Sun Yetsen was the father of modern China. He made China a republic (before the Communist revolution). He is comparable to Washington, Lincoln or FDR. When he died, they created a huge memorial. It is an entire park. Hundreds of steps lead up to his grave. His marble casket is on display in a marble room. A life-size marble image of him lies on top of it. It is quite a spectacle. I put some pictures up if you click on the photo link.
Purple Mountain is so named because it is covered with plum trees. It is a huge area containing many historical sites. To amuse myself and a medium-sized crowd of strangers, I tried on a queen’s dress from the Qing dynasty. At 5’5, I was the tallest person in the courtyard, not to mention the only blond one. I put on a very entertaining show by trying on a queen’s dress
The visit to the Nanjing memorial well suited to the rain. The Japanese invaded China in 1931. Their occupation was brutal and mercilessness. In the city of Nanjing, over 300,000 people were massacred. The memorial is built over a mass gravesite. The graves have been excavated but the remains have not been removed. The skeletons are encased in a glass room and visitors walk around the outside of the room to view them as they lay. There are several skeletons of small children. To say that it is moving is an understatement. The museum part of the memorial contains pictures and artifacts from the massacre. It is similar to a visit to Auschwitz or Dachau. There are pictures of many, many bodies, executions, and rape victims. Many are gruesome. One famous picture is of a decapitated head sitting on a log. I wonder how often I have seen images like that in movies… yet, it feels very, very different seeing a real picture.
I encountered a woman who told me her family’s story. Her father was a leader in a political party. When the communists came, they wanted to arrest him. He fled, walking for three months to safety. He had to leave his wife and children behind in order to protect their lives. His parents were murdered as punishment for his escape. Time passed. He started a new family in his country of exile. After his children were grown, he received a letter telling him that his first wife and children were still alive. He arranged for them to visit. Apparently, this is a common story in the chaotic political history of China. I cannot imagine my dad sitting me down and telling me he had another family in another country and then telling me they were on the way to visit.
Sun Yetsen was the father of modern China. He made China a republic (before the Communist revolution). He is comparable to Washington, Lincoln or FDR. When he died, they created a huge memorial. It is an entire park. Hundreds of steps lead up to his grave. His marble casket is on display in a marble room. A life-size marble image of him lies on top of it. It is quite a spectacle. I put some pictures up if you click on the photo link.
Purple Mountain is so named because it is covered with plum trees. It is a huge area containing many historical sites. To amuse myself and a medium-sized crowd of strangers, I tried on a queen’s dress from the Qing dynasty. At 5’5, I was the tallest person in the courtyard, not to mention the only blond one. I put on a very entertaining show by trying on a queen’s dress
The visit to the Nanjing memorial well suited to the rain. The Japanese invaded China in 1931. Their occupation was brutal and mercilessness. In the city of Nanjing, over 300,000 people were massacred. The memorial is built over a mass gravesite. The graves have been excavated but the remains have not been removed. The skeletons are encased in a glass room and visitors walk around the outside of the room to view them as they lay. There are several skeletons of small children. To say that it is moving is an understatement. The museum part of the memorial contains pictures and artifacts from the massacre. It is similar to a visit to Auschwitz or Dachau. There are pictures of many, many bodies, executions, and rape victims. Many are gruesome. One famous picture is of a decapitated head sitting on a log. I wonder how often I have seen images like that in movies… yet, it feels very, very different seeing a real picture.
I encountered a woman who told me her family’s story. Her father was a leader in a political party. When the communists came, they wanted to arrest him. He fled, walking for three months to safety. He had to leave his wife and children behind in order to protect their lives. His parents were murdered as punishment for his escape. Time passed. He started a new family in his country of exile. After his children were grown, he received a letter telling him that his first wife and children were still alive. He arranged for them to visit. Apparently, this is a common story in the chaotic political history of China. I cannot imagine my dad sitting me down and telling me he had another family in another country and then telling me they were on the way to visit.
Teaching and Learning
For the past two days, we have given a training seminar to people interested in counseling. Our audience is eager to learn and very attentive. I have given four lectures. Three went very well. On the third one, I got spooked (as Al put it). As I began talking, I suddenly felt flooded by all the information that I wanted to present. I think I over prepared and then in the moment I could not sift through what I wanted to say and what I didn’t. It was like system overload and I totally lost my ground. I went on for a while, but finally I felt so unsure about it, I stopped and said, “I don’t know if this is how I want to do this.” I then I began to ask them questions about what they wanted to know, which actually caused me more problems. Chinese students do not follow a Socratic learning method. The teacher teaches and they listen, there is no interaction. When I paused and asked for feedback, they looked at me plainly. Then, one of the leaders got up and somehow encouraged them to give me feedback. It was awkward. Finally they gave me some suggestions and I was able to reconstruct myself and go on, albeit a bit hesitantly.
It was a difficult inner struggle. At the beginning of my talk I began to feel like “I don’t know these people; I don’t know what they need. I don’t know any information that could be useful for them.” I felt incompetent, not at all like the expert whose role I was playing.
I was selected to come to China because I have a significant amount of cross-cultural experience and a desire to have a cross-cultural career. I felt confident in preparation, like “I have seen places like this before. I know how to handle myself.” I kept telling myself, “It will be like this in Africa or that in Nicaragua.” Not to mention the numerous times that I have been to Chinatown or had conversations with Chinese American friends... I did myself a disservice by expecting myself to act as if this cross-cultural stuff is “old hat.” China is completely new. It is unlike anything I have experienced. I do not know very much about this country, its history or its people. I have to begin this experience as new, with the eyes of someone who has never left home before. Today, while I was speaking, I was overwhelmed with the uniqueness of this place and these people. Not the best timing, but a good lesson for me to appreciate the depth of this experience and how it is unlike any other.
It was a difficult inner struggle. At the beginning of my talk I began to feel like “I don’t know these people; I don’t know what they need. I don’t know any information that could be useful for them.” I felt incompetent, not at all like the expert whose role I was playing.
I was selected to come to China because I have a significant amount of cross-cultural experience and a desire to have a cross-cultural career. I felt confident in preparation, like “I have seen places like this before. I know how to handle myself.” I kept telling myself, “It will be like this in Africa or that in Nicaragua.” Not to mention the numerous times that I have been to Chinatown or had conversations with Chinese American friends... I did myself a disservice by expecting myself to act as if this cross-cultural stuff is “old hat.” China is completely new. It is unlike anything I have experienced. I do not know very much about this country, its history or its people. I have to begin this experience as new, with the eyes of someone who has never left home before. Today, while I was speaking, I was overwhelmed with the uniqueness of this place and these people. Not the best timing, but a good lesson for me to appreciate the depth of this experience and how it is unlike any other.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Last minute shifts
Ahh, cross cultural experiences... This trip has been in the planning phase for months. I worked my tail off for the last four weeks to prepare numerous presentations for conferences here. Tonight, two days before a three-day conferences begins, the host wants to change many of our presentations. It is hard to hear after so much stress and preparation. It seems like things were not effectively communicated in the planning phases. I am tired and half sick and hearing that I have to go back and rearrange my presentations is making me crabby. Tomorrow was supposed to be our day off. For the last two days we have been busy from 7:45 a.m. until 9 p.m. and I am sharing a room with someone so my "down time" is not totally mine. The introvert in me is screaming for a little more space and time. Having the added task of shifting the presentations pushes me to the point of frustration. I am trying to flexible, patient and optimistic; hopefully my forced attitude improvement will help me get my presentations ready.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Nanjing Day 1
Today we presented on program evaluation for Amity, a Chinese humanitarian aid agency. We went in blind without really knowing who would be attending or what they wanted. It turned out to be a great day. The organization's staff is amazing. They do wonderful work like blindness prevention, rural medical care, education, etc. It was a pleasure to sit with people who have such a genuine desire to improve the lives of the impoverished people in their country. I felt privileged to be there.
After the full day of training, Elizabeth and I went to the store so that I could buy a coat. It was about 36 degrees today, much, much cooler than we were expecting it to be. I have developed a bad cold the last two days. My raincoat was not keeping me warm. I bought a lime green down coat with faux fur trim for about $7. Of course, I had to buy XL because my arms are much longer and shoulders are much wider than the average Chinese woman. If anyone has any clothing needs, e-mail me your requests.
After shopping, we were treated to a Chinese feast by the Amity leaders. There was so much food. 20-25 dishes. I am so, so full right now. It is hard to refuse food, so the hosts kept offering and I kept eating. It was incredibly tasty! Panda Express is such an injustice. Some of tonight's dishes included marinated pigeon (complete with the head), fish balls, pumpkin soup, grilled mushrooms, shrimp, mini cucumber, and my favorite, duck tongue. The food was so, so good. I am currently suffering from the double wammy of jet lag and food coma.
I uploaded some pictures. Click on the "My China Photos" link to the right to check them out.
Insomnia
It is the third night in a row that I've woken up at 4. Yesterday I managed to stay in bed until about 6:30 then I got up and went for a run. This morning Elizabeth and I were both wide-awake so we turned on the lights and talked for a while. I thought I had a successful strategy. I have been making myself stay up until it is bedtime here. One would think that I would sleep 7 or 8 hours like normal. However, alas, then 4 a.m. comes. It is an odd time. Too early to get up. Late enough that if I get out of bed and do something else there is not enough time to go back to bed before it is time to get up. I guess one of these nights I will be so tired that I will just stay asleep. That would be lovely.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Hong Kong Day 1
I had a wonderful evening with Joy. We a ate a dessert soup made from boiled papaya, sugar and white fungus. Ummm tasty. We walked up and down the water bank and watched the light show on the skyscrapers. Hong Kong is separated from mainland China by a thin strip of sea, thin like a river. On the mainland side, where we are staying, there is a path along the shore. On the opposite side, the skyscrapers coordinate light shows. It has been rainy and dreary but cleared up tonight. The lights reflected on the water. It was beautiful and creative and reflected the desire to make this city spectacular on the world stage.
Hong Kong is the most modern city I have ever seen. It is shiny skyscrapers with sleek lines and reflective windows. It is a major fashion center. Many major designers have shops here: Versace, Chanel, Max Mara. Similar to Rodeo Drive. It is a mecca of wealth and capitalism. From what I heard today, there is tremendous pressure on this city’s residents to keep up with the lifestyle. To be fashionable, technical, above average. The drive to achieve and earn is remarkable. The city looks like a model of achievement. It is visually flawless. I find myself wondering at the cost that such flawlessness exacts on the souls of the citizens.
Hong Kong is the most modern city I have ever seen. It is shiny skyscrapers with sleek lines and reflective windows. It is a major fashion center. Many major designers have shops here: Versace, Chanel, Max Mara. Similar to Rodeo Drive. It is a mecca of wealth and capitalism. From what I heard today, there is tremendous pressure on this city’s residents to keep up with the lifestyle. To be fashionable, technical, above average. The drive to achieve and earn is remarkable. The city looks like a model of achievement. It is visually flawless. I find myself wondering at the cost that such flawlessness exacts on the souls of the citizens.
Hong Kong Day 1
2:40 A.M. on Saturday in California.
6:40 P.M. on Saturday in Hong Kong.
It has been rainy and dreary but it is clearing up to night. If I squish my face on the window and look right, I can see the famous Hong Kong night scene across the river. In half an hour a woman named Joy is coming to show me the night in Hong Kong. I think that just means a trip on the ferry to view the skyline, not like going out on the town. But who knows... In my experience, it behooves one to always be ready for dancing.
I am a little groggy right now. I just took a nap.
It has been a good day. Al gave a lecture this morning that was attended by about 100 people. We then had lunch with Fuller alum. It was fun to meet people who've had common experiences. Very friendly. Easy to talk to.
Elizabeth was released from the airport! Good to see her. She was almost exiled in the airport like Tom Hanks in The Terminal. She came to lunch without any sleep. I slept for four hours last night. I think I'll be adjusted by tomorrow.
6:40 P.M. on Saturday in Hong Kong.
It has been rainy and dreary but it is clearing up to night. If I squish my face on the window and look right, I can see the famous Hong Kong night scene across the river. In half an hour a woman named Joy is coming to show me the night in Hong Kong. I think that just means a trip on the ferry to view the skyline, not like going out on the town. But who knows... In my experience, it behooves one to always be ready for dancing.
I am a little groggy right now. I just took a nap.
It has been a good day. Al gave a lecture this morning that was attended by about 100 people. We then had lunch with Fuller alum. It was fun to meet people who've had common experiences. Very friendly. Easy to talk to.
Elizabeth was released from the airport! Good to see her. She was almost exiled in the airport like Tom Hanks in The Terminal. She came to lunch without any sleep. I slept for four hours last night. I think I'll be adjusted by tomorrow.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Arrival
It is 9:51 a.m. on Friday in California.
It is 1:51 a.m. on Saturday in Hong Kong.
It has been a long day! I've been in transit for about 26 hours. The flight from LA to Tokyo was uneventful. I knitted, read, listened to music, and half-watched four movies.
When we arrived in Tokyo our flight to Hong Kong was canceled. We did some quick switching to arrange another flight. I began to get tired. That flight was delayed over an hour. We arrived in Hong Kong after midnight.
Al and I traveled together and had plans to meet Elizabeth in the Hong Kong airport. She opted to fly on another airline. When we arrived she was nowhere to be found. We looked, we called... It was the middle of the night and hard to get answers. Eventually we decided to come to the hotel knowing that she had the hotel information. We arrived to find a message that she was detained at the airport without the proper visa (she is a citizen of Taiwan). She will spend the night sleeping in line in front of a desk in hopes of getting a temporary visa. If she cannot, she will go directly to Nanjing and meet us on Sunday night. I expect that Al will spend the next hour on the phone trying to arrange something for her.
Even though it is the middle of the night and I have gone 26 hours with only 2-3 hours of sleep, my body seems to know that it is morning in Cali. We start meetings and presentations at 9 tomorrow morning... er, this morning. I will try to sleep.
Hong Kong is rainy and humid!
It is 1:51 a.m. on Saturday in Hong Kong.
It has been a long day! I've been in transit for about 26 hours. The flight from LA to Tokyo was uneventful. I knitted, read, listened to music, and half-watched four movies.
When we arrived in Tokyo our flight to Hong Kong was canceled. We did some quick switching to arrange another flight. I began to get tired. That flight was delayed over an hour. We arrived in Hong Kong after midnight.
Al and I traveled together and had plans to meet Elizabeth in the Hong Kong airport. She opted to fly on another airline. When we arrived she was nowhere to be found. We looked, we called... It was the middle of the night and hard to get answers. Eventually we decided to come to the hotel knowing that she had the hotel information. We arrived to find a message that she was detained at the airport without the proper visa (she is a citizen of Taiwan). She will spend the night sleeping in line in front of a desk in hopes of getting a temporary visa. If she cannot, she will go directly to Nanjing and meet us on Sunday night. I expect that Al will spend the next hour on the phone trying to arrange something for her.
Even though it is the middle of the night and I have gone 26 hours with only 2-3 hours of sleep, my body seems to know that it is morning in Cali. We start meetings and presentations at 9 tomorrow morning... er, this morning. I will try to sleep.
Hong Kong is rainy and humid!
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