I admit that I don’t know nearly as much as I should about Africa, and that I feel shamed by that. Recently, I read Children of the Revolution by Dinaw Mengestu which has piqued my interest in the area.
It is a story of Sepha Stephanos, a man living between two worlds: the Ethiopia that he fled and the American capital he calls home. He runs a store and spends time with two other friends who are also immigrants from Africa. What has become his normal routine for the past 17 years changes when a white woman, Judith, and her daughter move into the neighborhood.
Sepha’s memories of his father, murdered in front of him during the revolution, are omnipresent. The memories of his dead father are far more binding than any contact he has with his mother and brother, alive and back in Ethiopia. Sepha observes the hope that immigration brings versus the reality of immigrant life against the backdrop of urban blight and gentrification. There is a loneliness as someone who is not connected with their home and not connected to their present, and it’s a sentiment that Judith and Sepha both share. But for Sepha anyhow, there is no going home even if he’s not willing to admit it to himself just yet. One gets the feeling that this novel could be very close to a memoir, in its character development and sense of place. It’s such a fragile insight into the human condition and the fleetingness of happiness, as well as the ways that children can penetrate our souls in a way that many adults can’t.
Since I read the book, Ethiopia has been strangely popping up all over, including this article.
It seems like the classic conundrum: “These events are unfolding as billions of dollars in foreign aid pour into the country. Foreign aid is important. It helps needy people, it creates allies for our causes and markets for our products, and redeems some of the damage inflicted on the third world during the cold war. But aid agencies need to ensure that their programs don’t exacerbate the political problems that are keeping people poor in the first place” (Referring to political turmoil in the 2005 elections, the silencing of opposition, and the May 23rd parliamentary elections that will probably be decided in advance).
If there’s one thing I wish development workers and governments would understand, it’s that just throwing money around doesn’t solve anything even if everyone has a price. From my experiences, one of the biggest problems with money is that it is often mismanaged and not handled transparently. So imagine what happens when you have a country like Ethiopia with 90 different ethnic groups and power grabbing in an election year?
And this should go without saying that any hope for a society’s future needs to be based on human rights. Human rights establish safety and alleviate fears. They drive a society forward because they allow people to organize and speak their minds. Traditional powers have a long history of ignoring human rights for a political bottom line, and this is yet another example in the sad history of short-sighted opportunism.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Skipping college?
“Of the 30 jobs projected to grow at the fastest rate over the next decade in the United States, only seven typically require a bachelor’s degree, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.” cited in this NYT article.
Well I’m glad someone said it.
This is something I’ve been thinking about for a long time. Frustrated at the sinking value of my bachelor’s degree combined with a large amount of my peers at my university never took studying seriously, I have always been a proponent of students exploring educational possibilities. The idea of something other than a traditional four-year degree is something that’s difficult to get into our American brains – kind of like how owning a home is always pounded into our skulls. The fact is, university degrees and home ownership, while trumpeted from the highest hill in the land, aren’t for everyone. And it’s time to finally acknowledge it.
Firstly, there’s the issue of jobs. The market can’t support all the university graduates to begin with. So we study for years because we believe we’ll get a “good job” afterwards (and that home in the suburbs we’ve always been told to dream of), and the market is unable to meet the demand for positions. Not only does it take time to find employment, but most of us have loans to pay back. Sometimes it’s hard to see the payoff in all of this.
Secondly, many jobs don’t require a traditional degree, which the article mentions. We will always need healthcare workers to fill various positions, as well as electricians, plumbers, mechanics and other vocational occupations. In the long run, why would anyone spend four years studying when a two-year degree is enough, or at least a good starting point?
Thirdly, there are students getting four year degrees that really have no business getting them, i.e. graduating by the skin of their teeth. Their low, but passing marks multiplied by the thousands of graduates who fall into this category make my degree less valuable.
Although this has been previously discussed, the economic downturn and lack of employment for recent graduates (with another bleak year to look forward to) has to have people thinking about their education. Why spend $100,000 when you could spend a fraction of the time and money and still get an education that will help you move forward in life? Other than the prestige of a traditional degree, there’s really not much difference. You can always continue your education if you decide to, instead of committing right away to four years.
The article also mentions behavior in the workplace. My mom used to do interviews for the state and some of the biggest requests from employers were employees that could function within the workplace. We are talking about basic things like dressing appropriately, communicating effectively, showing up on time, limiting absences, etc. These are pretty much basic things required of any employee that wants to work, and something our grandparents, and to a lesser extent, parents, never had to be lectured about. It shames me to say that my generation is wired-up, weak on interpersonal skills and poor in professional skills. Blame it on the demise of the family or the rise of technological age. Something has affected the way we behave, or at least what passes as appropriate behavior, in the last twenty or so years. And it’s largely not for the better.
Whether college is the right choice for a student should be up to them to decide. People complain that advising students away from college limits their opportunities for growth or may indirectly divide students among racial lines. That is all beside the point. The student, their performance and their future goals are the only things that matter in the decision, but there needs to be more options than just the tunnel-visioned university oriented view.
Well I’m glad someone said it.
This is something I’ve been thinking about for a long time. Frustrated at the sinking value of my bachelor’s degree combined with a large amount of my peers at my university never took studying seriously, I have always been a proponent of students exploring educational possibilities. The idea of something other than a traditional four-year degree is something that’s difficult to get into our American brains – kind of like how owning a home is always pounded into our skulls. The fact is, university degrees and home ownership, while trumpeted from the highest hill in the land, aren’t for everyone. And it’s time to finally acknowledge it.
Firstly, there’s the issue of jobs. The market can’t support all the university graduates to begin with. So we study for years because we believe we’ll get a “good job” afterwards (and that home in the suburbs we’ve always been told to dream of), and the market is unable to meet the demand for positions. Not only does it take time to find employment, but most of us have loans to pay back. Sometimes it’s hard to see the payoff in all of this.
Secondly, many jobs don’t require a traditional degree, which the article mentions. We will always need healthcare workers to fill various positions, as well as electricians, plumbers, mechanics and other vocational occupations. In the long run, why would anyone spend four years studying when a two-year degree is enough, or at least a good starting point?
Thirdly, there are students getting four year degrees that really have no business getting them, i.e. graduating by the skin of their teeth. Their low, but passing marks multiplied by the thousands of graduates who fall into this category make my degree less valuable.
Although this has been previously discussed, the economic downturn and lack of employment for recent graduates (with another bleak year to look forward to) has to have people thinking about their education. Why spend $100,000 when you could spend a fraction of the time and money and still get an education that will help you move forward in life? Other than the prestige of a traditional degree, there’s really not much difference. You can always continue your education if you decide to, instead of committing right away to four years.
The article also mentions behavior in the workplace. My mom used to do interviews for the state and some of the biggest requests from employers were employees that could function within the workplace. We are talking about basic things like dressing appropriately, communicating effectively, showing up on time, limiting absences, etc. These are pretty much basic things required of any employee that wants to work, and something our grandparents, and to a lesser extent, parents, never had to be lectured about. It shames me to say that my generation is wired-up, weak on interpersonal skills and poor in professional skills. Blame it on the demise of the family or the rise of technological age. Something has affected the way we behave, or at least what passes as appropriate behavior, in the last twenty or so years. And it’s largely not for the better.
Whether college is the right choice for a student should be up to them to decide. People complain that advising students away from college limits their opportunities for growth or may indirectly divide students among racial lines. That is all beside the point. The student, their performance and their future goals are the only things that matter in the decision, but there needs to be more options than just the tunnel-visioned university oriented view.
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
Once I started reading this novel by Philip K. Dick that served as the basis for the movie Bladerunner, I couldn’t put it down. I’ve always been interested in how the arts imagine and conceive of the future – especially when it’s a perceived as a dystopia.
The premise is simple: Earth has been ruined by war and a cloud of radioactive dust has caused great destruction. The people that could afford it have gone to Mars (“the colony”). To help them with their relocation, powerful companies have built ever-more sophisticated robots, to the point where they are almost impossible to tell apart from humans. A band of androids has escaped from Mars after killing their masters and it’s up to Rick Deckard to track them down and “retire” them.
In the androids and life on the desolate Earth, we see Dick’s metaphysics. A large part of the book focuses on existence and being and how we define them. The androids look like humans, behave like humans… so much so that only a professional could tell the difference. Some of the androids Deckard encounters are not conscious of the fact that they are androids: the Rosen Association has pre-programmed them with memories; memories that any normal human being would have. Partly because of this, the androids believe they are human. Dick also makes us wonder about what the role of robot in society will be once technology advances that far. Should things that act, think, look and move like humans have the same rights? Is it fair to say that Deckard “retires” them when what he’s really doing is “killing” them in a sense? What separates a human from an advanced android? Is it just flesh?
Dick also asks us to imagine a world void of life, where the appearance of a spider under an abandoned apartment building’s steps is cause for wonder and celebration. What Rick desires most is to own his own, live animal, not the electric sheep that lives on the roof. A popular catalogue with the residents of San Francisco 1992 is Sidney’s, which lists the price and availability of animals. Many of the entries are annotated with an “e,” for “extinct.” People own fake cats, fake birds… all created to so closely resemble actual life that it becomes confusing.
The book doesn’t end on a happy note. Deckard gets what he wants, but it’s short-lived. The androids that were his mission have been retired. The money he spent on a real animal is wasted when an android takes her revenge against him by killing it. And the living frog he thought found… turns out to have a control panel. While Deckard is the hero of the novel, he doesn’t receive a hero’s ending. Maybe it’s the best one can expect in those dark times.
The premise is simple: Earth has been ruined by war and a cloud of radioactive dust has caused great destruction. The people that could afford it have gone to Mars (“the colony”). To help them with their relocation, powerful companies have built ever-more sophisticated robots, to the point where they are almost impossible to tell apart from humans. A band of androids has escaped from Mars after killing their masters and it’s up to Rick Deckard to track them down and “retire” them.
In the androids and life on the desolate Earth, we see Dick’s metaphysics. A large part of the book focuses on existence and being and how we define them. The androids look like humans, behave like humans… so much so that only a professional could tell the difference. Some of the androids Deckard encounters are not conscious of the fact that they are androids: the Rosen Association has pre-programmed them with memories; memories that any normal human being would have. Partly because of this, the androids believe they are human. Dick also makes us wonder about what the role of robot in society will be once technology advances that far. Should things that act, think, look and move like humans have the same rights? Is it fair to say that Deckard “retires” them when what he’s really doing is “killing” them in a sense? What separates a human from an advanced android? Is it just flesh?
Dick also asks us to imagine a world void of life, where the appearance of a spider under an abandoned apartment building’s steps is cause for wonder and celebration. What Rick desires most is to own his own, live animal, not the electric sheep that lives on the roof. A popular catalogue with the residents of San Francisco 1992 is Sidney’s, which lists the price and availability of animals. Many of the entries are annotated with an “e,” for “extinct.” People own fake cats, fake birds… all created to so closely resemble actual life that it becomes confusing.
The book doesn’t end on a happy note. Deckard gets what he wants, but it’s short-lived. The androids that were his mission have been retired. The money he spent on a real animal is wasted when an android takes her revenge against him by killing it. And the living frog he thought found… turns out to have a control panel. While Deckard is the hero of the novel, he doesn’t receive a hero’s ending. Maybe it’s the best one can expect in those dark times.
Ranking Overrated Goaltenders
As the NHL playoffs continue to wind down, it looks like the Chicago Blackhawks will face off against my Philadelphia Flyers. In a crazy playoff season, three of the four remaining goaltenders aren’t considered upper-tier. My dad always likes to say that all you need in the playoffs is just to qualify and to have a hot goaltender, and Antti Niemi, Jaroslav Halak and Michael Leighton have all done that. But as San Jose sits in a 3 – 0 series deficit and looks poised to exit the playoffs early again this year, two things come to mind. One is that the regular season really is a stretch of 82 warm up games. The second, which follows the first, is that regular season goalies don’t necessarily translate into playoff heroes.
So what does it mean to be an overrated NHL goalie?
We could debate about who was or wasn’t overrated before the lockout, but now that numbers (in stats and in dollars) are even more important in a salary capped league, the picture becomes a little clearer. When a contract is signed, it represents a mixture between prior performance and potential performance and those performances in terms of dollars. Compare other goalies around the league. Consider durability and the number of starts. Count the number of playoff round wins. These can give you a good idea.
Overall, here’s a list of some easy ones and perhaps some more provocative ones:
1. Rick DiPietro, NYI.
There’s no way there could be any competition for DiPietro. Once heralded as the savior of Long Island, he’s become the albatross with a 15-year contract at $4.5 million a year. I still remember where I was the day I heard that announcement: using the free wireless at Berlin’s Sony Center, reading TSN. This was long before the huge deals that started becoming common place with young players with potential, and probably one of the first mega-deals I remember.
What has DiPietro done in Long Island? Well, last season he played 5 games and posted a 3.52GAA and .892SP. The Isles have been in a rebuilding process for as long as I can remember and should give Edmonton a long, hard sneak preview of what life is like.
2. Kari Lehtonen, DAL.
Last year, during the perennial Philadelphia goaltending crisis, there were rumors that the Flyers would go after Lehtonen. Instead, they ended up getting another broken goaltender in Ray Emery. But Emery came at a fraction of the cost of Lehtonen’s $3.5 million.
Once touted as the future in Atlanta’s pipes (like Patrik Stefan was the forward of the future), Lehtonen was decent when he played. A number one goalie should reasonably play at least 55 games, and I doubt Lehtonen will ever get to that point. Last year he came close with 46. He has had some of the worst health and inconsistency issues of any goalie in the league, aside from DiPietro. Despite his history and performance, Dallas GM Joe Nieuwendyk said that they see him as a future #1 goaltender. I guess that makes sense when your current #1 is Marty Turco…
3. Roberto Luongo, VAN.
Yes, I know he won a gold medal. But he’s not a European player, he’s a Canadian. And although winning the gold at home is definitely a remarkable moment, every North American hockey player dreams of a Stanley Cup, not a gold medal.
The first goaltender to captain a team in a long time, Luongo joked in one of his final press conferences of this season that he didn’t let “7 goals in this time,” a reference to last season’s demise at the hands of the Blackhawks. Just the kind of leadership you look for in a $6.75 million player. While he’s proved he can win in the Olympics, and certainly take a few games in the playoffs, he’s overrated until he can take his team further.
4. Evgeni Nabakov, SAN.
Nabakov is a regular season god on a team full of them in San Jose. But every spring, as well as these past Olympics, Nabby lacks the ability to raise his game and carry the team. That the offense hasn’t stepped up doesn’t help, but giving up Saloesque soft goals don’t exactly help momentum either.
And for the Montreal fans remarking on how their playoff story this year is more remarkable than a 3-0 series comeback, Anaheim was #8 last year and knocked off the President’s Trophy winner in San Jose. In the next around, they took the Cup defending Detroit to 7 games. I don’t see much of a difference. What is happening with Montreal isn’t nearly as rare as something that has occurred 3 times in the history of the league.
5. Carey Price, MON.
Price is young and he’s a winner. He’s shown in the AHL and World Juniors that he can be a lights out goalie. But as an NHL goaltender, that remains to be seen. The Flyers made short work of Price during their 2008 matchup.
Earlier on in the year, Jaroslav Halak’s agent started a Twitter war when he posted both players’ stats. Over the past season, Price has gone from the man in Montreal to playoff bench rider as Halak stole the show and his job.
It should be interesting to see how things work out in Montreal, since Price and Halak are both RFAs at the end of next year and Montreal is strapped for cash after huge free agent signings from last season.
So what does it mean to be an overrated NHL goalie?
We could debate about who was or wasn’t overrated before the lockout, but now that numbers (in stats and in dollars) are even more important in a salary capped league, the picture becomes a little clearer. When a contract is signed, it represents a mixture between prior performance and potential performance and those performances in terms of dollars. Compare other goalies around the league. Consider durability and the number of starts. Count the number of playoff round wins. These can give you a good idea.
Overall, here’s a list of some easy ones and perhaps some more provocative ones:
1. Rick DiPietro, NYI.
There’s no way there could be any competition for DiPietro. Once heralded as the savior of Long Island, he’s become the albatross with a 15-year contract at $4.5 million a year. I still remember where I was the day I heard that announcement: using the free wireless at Berlin’s Sony Center, reading TSN. This was long before the huge deals that started becoming common place with young players with potential, and probably one of the first mega-deals I remember.
What has DiPietro done in Long Island? Well, last season he played 5 games and posted a 3.52GAA and .892SP. The Isles have been in a rebuilding process for as long as I can remember and should give Edmonton a long, hard sneak preview of what life is like.
2. Kari Lehtonen, DAL.
Last year, during the perennial Philadelphia goaltending crisis, there were rumors that the Flyers would go after Lehtonen. Instead, they ended up getting another broken goaltender in Ray Emery. But Emery came at a fraction of the cost of Lehtonen’s $3.5 million.
Once touted as the future in Atlanta’s pipes (like Patrik Stefan was the forward of the future), Lehtonen was decent when he played. A number one goalie should reasonably play at least 55 games, and I doubt Lehtonen will ever get to that point. Last year he came close with 46. He has had some of the worst health and inconsistency issues of any goalie in the league, aside from DiPietro. Despite his history and performance, Dallas GM Joe Nieuwendyk said that they see him as a future #1 goaltender. I guess that makes sense when your current #1 is Marty Turco…
3. Roberto Luongo, VAN.
Yes, I know he won a gold medal. But he’s not a European player, he’s a Canadian. And although winning the gold at home is definitely a remarkable moment, every North American hockey player dreams of a Stanley Cup, not a gold medal.
The first goaltender to captain a team in a long time, Luongo joked in one of his final press conferences of this season that he didn’t let “7 goals in this time,” a reference to last season’s demise at the hands of the Blackhawks. Just the kind of leadership you look for in a $6.75 million player. While he’s proved he can win in the Olympics, and certainly take a few games in the playoffs, he’s overrated until he can take his team further.
4. Evgeni Nabakov, SAN.
Nabakov is a regular season god on a team full of them in San Jose. But every spring, as well as these past Olympics, Nabby lacks the ability to raise his game and carry the team. That the offense hasn’t stepped up doesn’t help, but giving up Saloesque soft goals don’t exactly help momentum either.
And for the Montreal fans remarking on how their playoff story this year is more remarkable than a 3-0 series comeback, Anaheim was #8 last year and knocked off the President’s Trophy winner in San Jose. In the next around, they took the Cup defending Detroit to 7 games. I don’t see much of a difference. What is happening with Montreal isn’t nearly as rare as something that has occurred 3 times in the history of the league.
5. Carey Price, MON.
Price is young and he’s a winner. He’s shown in the AHL and World Juniors that he can be a lights out goalie. But as an NHL goaltender, that remains to be seen. The Flyers made short work of Price during their 2008 matchup.
Earlier on in the year, Jaroslav Halak’s agent started a Twitter war when he posted both players’ stats. Over the past season, Price has gone from the man in Montreal to playoff bench rider as Halak stole the show and his job.
It should be interesting to see how things work out in Montreal, since Price and Halak are both RFAs at the end of next year and Montreal is strapped for cash after huge free agent signings from last season.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
History Will be Made
If I were home right now, I’d be watching playoff hockey. Despite what the song may claim, it’s not Christmas that’s the most wonderful time of the year. It’s the NHL Stanley Cup playoffs. 16 teams try to get 16 wins over four rounds to capture the Cup.
The Flyers have been a pretty good playoff team in general, in terms of appearances and performance. According to TSN, “The Flyers have had an extraordinary run the last three playoff years. They sit third in the NHL over that span in terms of number of playoff rounds and games, behind only the back-to-back Stanley Cup finalists Detroit Red Wings and Penguins.” That’s not too shabby.
Playoff hockey brings the kind of drama and stories that transcend sport, and this year is no different. The Flyers needed a shootout victory on the last day of the season to even get a playoff berth. Talk about coming down to the wire. Heavily favored as Cup finalists at the start of the season, the team was derailed through inconsistent play and injuries. The Hockey News said that all the Flyers would need is “good, not great” goaltending to perform, and they’ve gotten it from two different netminders this post-season.
Originally the signed as a starter, the team lost Ray Emery in winter for the rest of the season. At that point, Mike Leighton, picked up off of waivers, took over the job. When he was injured, the Flyers relied on the familiar face of Brian Boucher in the pipes as the third-stringer quietly lead them to the post-season by making one last save in a shootout versus the Rangers to give them the #7 seed. The Flyers comeback and unlikely success of giant-killer Montreal highlights the unpredictability of our sport.
In the post-season, they made quick work of former playoff rival New Jersey before going on to meet sixth seeded Boston and promptly going down 3 games to 0. That they would be perfect for four games is almost impossible; that they’d come back to win the deciding game 7 after being down 3-0 before the first period finished is even more so. Their 4-3 win on Friday night capped off a tremendous comeback that only three teams have ever achieved in the history of the NHL.
And you know what? We deserved it. Philadelphia sports teams and Flyers fans have had more than their fair share of disappointments. Whether it’s the 2006 lost season, or blowing a 3-1 series lead to New Jersey after Eric Lindros got another concussion, or the two series losses to the rival Pittsburgh Penguins as we had to watch Sidney Crosby lift the Cup, or the game 7 loss to Tampa Bay. Most of my Flyers post-season memories are sad ones. For once, it feels so nice to be on the other side of history.
My awful internet connection and questionable electricity cooperated enough for me to watch the game in its entirety, right up until it ended at 4:30AM here. I felt the goose bumps rise as the final seconds ticked off the clock. I felt the same feeling in my stomach as I did when Simon Gagne scored in game 6 of the Tampa Bay series all those years ago: that perhaps this was a team of destiny who was capable of something more.
Of course the Flyers went on to lose game 7 against Tampa Bay thanks largely to the play of Nikolai Khabibulin. What comes next for the Flyers is still very up in the air. Debates have raged about whether Montreal is really talented or just really lucky. My guess is that it takes more than luck to beat the #1 seeded team and then dispose of last year’s Cup champions in back-to-back rounds. And there’s the overwhelming belief that the Cup will go to a Western team and that the Eastern Conference’s two remaining teams are flukes.
But in a playoff stretch that will now see the #7 and #8 seeds faceoff for a ticket to the finals, anything is possible. The only thing we can know for sure is that we will probably never see another feat as epic as the one the Flyers pulled off in this past week. And that is something truly special no matter what happens.
The Flyers have been a pretty good playoff team in general, in terms of appearances and performance. According to TSN, “The Flyers have had an extraordinary run the last three playoff years. They sit third in the NHL over that span in terms of number of playoff rounds and games, behind only the back-to-back Stanley Cup finalists Detroit Red Wings and Penguins.” That’s not too shabby.
Playoff hockey brings the kind of drama and stories that transcend sport, and this year is no different. The Flyers needed a shootout victory on the last day of the season to even get a playoff berth. Talk about coming down to the wire. Heavily favored as Cup finalists at the start of the season, the team was derailed through inconsistent play and injuries. The Hockey News said that all the Flyers would need is “good, not great” goaltending to perform, and they’ve gotten it from two different netminders this post-season.
Originally the signed as a starter, the team lost Ray Emery in winter for the rest of the season. At that point, Mike Leighton, picked up off of waivers, took over the job. When he was injured, the Flyers relied on the familiar face of Brian Boucher in the pipes as the third-stringer quietly lead them to the post-season by making one last save in a shootout versus the Rangers to give them the #7 seed. The Flyers comeback and unlikely success of giant-killer Montreal highlights the unpredictability of our sport.
In the post-season, they made quick work of former playoff rival New Jersey before going on to meet sixth seeded Boston and promptly going down 3 games to 0. That they would be perfect for four games is almost impossible; that they’d come back to win the deciding game 7 after being down 3-0 before the first period finished is even more so. Their 4-3 win on Friday night capped off a tremendous comeback that only three teams have ever achieved in the history of the NHL.
And you know what? We deserved it. Philadelphia sports teams and Flyers fans have had more than their fair share of disappointments. Whether it’s the 2006 lost season, or blowing a 3-1 series lead to New Jersey after Eric Lindros got another concussion, or the two series losses to the rival Pittsburgh Penguins as we had to watch Sidney Crosby lift the Cup, or the game 7 loss to Tampa Bay. Most of my Flyers post-season memories are sad ones. For once, it feels so nice to be on the other side of history.
My awful internet connection and questionable electricity cooperated enough for me to watch the game in its entirety, right up until it ended at 4:30AM here. I felt the goose bumps rise as the final seconds ticked off the clock. I felt the same feeling in my stomach as I did when Simon Gagne scored in game 6 of the Tampa Bay series all those years ago: that perhaps this was a team of destiny who was capable of something more.
Of course the Flyers went on to lose game 7 against Tampa Bay thanks largely to the play of Nikolai Khabibulin. What comes next for the Flyers is still very up in the air. Debates have raged about whether Montreal is really talented or just really lucky. My guess is that it takes more than luck to beat the #1 seeded team and then dispose of last year’s Cup champions in back-to-back rounds. And there’s the overwhelming belief that the Cup will go to a Western team and that the Eastern Conference’s two remaining teams are flukes.
But in a playoff stretch that will now see the #7 and #8 seeds faceoff for a ticket to the finals, anything is possible. The only thing we can know for sure is that we will probably never see another feat as epic as the one the Flyers pulled off in this past week. And that is something truly special no matter what happens.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Public versus Private
I’m getting a lot of offers to teach over the summer.
In Albania, it’s common for students to have tutors or to go to private language classes during the school year and during breaks. Teachers frequently give tutoring sessions right after class, in their homes. Part of the reason the Ministry of Education mandated a seventh educational hour was to cut down on the amount of teachers offering private tutoring sessions for a service that they should be providing in school. Although it is a requirement, I know that schools don’t do it.
Private language lessons are very, very expensive for the average Albanian. Private schools, or at least some of them that I’ve seen, have a tendency to hire the minimum amount of teachers so that profit is maximized, which is negative because it effects the quality of the lesson the teacher can give if they are overworked. Prepping a couple hours of language lessons is work. Usually for each hour I teach, I spend at least a half hour to an hour planning the session. So you can imagine if you are teaching several hours a day as a non-native speaker that quality comes into the picture. Albanian parents want their children to learn a foreign language, usually English. They know that a foreign language is what their children will need to be successful, and their idea of success is often living abroad. So they make tremendous sacrifices for their children.
I have a strict view that I am here for the public in general and that most of my work should be at my school and in my community. Private schools are strictly for money and they ask volunteers to help. I have no problem helping every once in a while, but it’s not where I want to put my time and effort into. They have the money to hire qualified staff and they have a lot more resources. The need is in the smaller community with people who might not be able to afford it. And being a native speaker is something so valuable that most private language schools can’t even offer it. I know that working with small groups of gifted students doesn’t impact a large number of people, but I know that the few it affects are significantly affected. And it’s not just a financial thing, although that figures into it. I’m happy and proud to provide a service that some students wouldn’t ever be able to afford.
I’ve had offers to work for money, but I’ve never been tempted. I’ve had people tell me that I’d make a great teacher in Tirana and they knew a person who owned a school. I’ve had someone suggest to me that I should charge for the lessons that I do at my home and I was offended. To me, I am a volunteer placed in my community to serve it. I felt proud one day last week, at the conclusion of a lesson with a new beginner student, to tell him that the lessons didn’t cost anything when he asked me. I told him I’m here for my school and community and that the lessons are free. He smiled and looked surprised.
But think about what we provide: native English speakers with American methods and Albanian speaking ability. That’s quite a profitable mix. We live in a country that runs on bribes and corruption – I’ve seen bus drivers paying cops and I’ve heard of having to pay to get a job and sometimes paying annually to keep it. It’s a real have-to-know someone society where favors and connections make or break you. It’s no different than any other place in the world in that respect, it’s just more obvious. I’ve heard of other volunteers accepting money for their services, which is offensive and completely unethical. Peace Corps gives us a reasonable living wage and pays for our housing… which is more than enough money to live on. One major goal of service is to live like a normal person in your host country, and accepting money for services rendered when you’re already given a living stipend makes this goal unreachable.
I recently had someone tell me that our work here doesn’t serve a purpose. The Albanian mentality is a hard one to break, indeed. But I think that if volunteers really felt that our work was meaningless, we would have gone home already. Surely there would be more important things to do with our generally young lives than spending them volunteering in a country that didn’t need or want us. But we haven’t done that. We’re here. And we’ve stayed. Maybe it’s an act of self-delusion. Maybe what I’m doing here doesn’t have the impact that I’d like it to. But in the end, as I felt my face flush, I explained that I can only do my best. I can work with the students and try to motivate them. My interactions on a personal level have meaning. I think the normal Peace Corps experience isn’t going to be about constructing new bridges or building libraries, it’s about the individual. It’s about the way we interact with each other and the way we share information and have experiences. Those memories will last long after we’re gone, even if my students forget present perfect after I leave.
In Albania, it’s common for students to have tutors or to go to private language classes during the school year and during breaks. Teachers frequently give tutoring sessions right after class, in their homes. Part of the reason the Ministry of Education mandated a seventh educational hour was to cut down on the amount of teachers offering private tutoring sessions for a service that they should be providing in school. Although it is a requirement, I know that schools don’t do it.
Private language lessons are very, very expensive for the average Albanian. Private schools, or at least some of them that I’ve seen, have a tendency to hire the minimum amount of teachers so that profit is maximized, which is negative because it effects the quality of the lesson the teacher can give if they are overworked. Prepping a couple hours of language lessons is work. Usually for each hour I teach, I spend at least a half hour to an hour planning the session. So you can imagine if you are teaching several hours a day as a non-native speaker that quality comes into the picture. Albanian parents want their children to learn a foreign language, usually English. They know that a foreign language is what their children will need to be successful, and their idea of success is often living abroad. So they make tremendous sacrifices for their children.
I have a strict view that I am here for the public in general and that most of my work should be at my school and in my community. Private schools are strictly for money and they ask volunteers to help. I have no problem helping every once in a while, but it’s not where I want to put my time and effort into. They have the money to hire qualified staff and they have a lot more resources. The need is in the smaller community with people who might not be able to afford it. And being a native speaker is something so valuable that most private language schools can’t even offer it. I know that working with small groups of gifted students doesn’t impact a large number of people, but I know that the few it affects are significantly affected. And it’s not just a financial thing, although that figures into it. I’m happy and proud to provide a service that some students wouldn’t ever be able to afford.
I’ve had offers to work for money, but I’ve never been tempted. I’ve had people tell me that I’d make a great teacher in Tirana and they knew a person who owned a school. I’ve had someone suggest to me that I should charge for the lessons that I do at my home and I was offended. To me, I am a volunteer placed in my community to serve it. I felt proud one day last week, at the conclusion of a lesson with a new beginner student, to tell him that the lessons didn’t cost anything when he asked me. I told him I’m here for my school and community and that the lessons are free. He smiled and looked surprised.
But think about what we provide: native English speakers with American methods and Albanian speaking ability. That’s quite a profitable mix. We live in a country that runs on bribes and corruption – I’ve seen bus drivers paying cops and I’ve heard of having to pay to get a job and sometimes paying annually to keep it. It’s a real have-to-know someone society where favors and connections make or break you. It’s no different than any other place in the world in that respect, it’s just more obvious. I’ve heard of other volunteers accepting money for their services, which is offensive and completely unethical. Peace Corps gives us a reasonable living wage and pays for our housing… which is more than enough money to live on. One major goal of service is to live like a normal person in your host country, and accepting money for services rendered when you’re already given a living stipend makes this goal unreachable.
I recently had someone tell me that our work here doesn’t serve a purpose. The Albanian mentality is a hard one to break, indeed. But I think that if volunteers really felt that our work was meaningless, we would have gone home already. Surely there would be more important things to do with our generally young lives than spending them volunteering in a country that didn’t need or want us. But we haven’t done that. We’re here. And we’ve stayed. Maybe it’s an act of self-delusion. Maybe what I’m doing here doesn’t have the impact that I’d like it to. But in the end, as I felt my face flush, I explained that I can only do my best. I can work with the students and try to motivate them. My interactions on a personal level have meaning. I think the normal Peace Corps experience isn’t going to be about constructing new bridges or building libraries, it’s about the individual. It’s about the way we interact with each other and the way we share information and have experiences. Those memories will last long after we’re gone, even if my students forget present perfect after I leave.
Summertime and the livin’ is not easy
The plans for the next couple weeks and the upcoming summer are already being made and it’s soon going to be time for me to start saying “no” to people. This whole time I’ve been here, I’ve been a “yes” person. Yes, I’ll give a training session. Yes, I’ll organize a talent show. Yes, I’d love to start the newsletter up again. I say yes for a couple reasons. Mostly, because I haven’t had anything better to do or haven’t had the busiest schedule. I say it because I respect and appreciate the staff and feel like I owe them one. I say yes because I want to. I say yes because doing different tasks exposes you to different experiences and different people, both of which could be valuable later on.
Currently, I’m serving on VAC (Volunteer Advisory Panel). We are a small committee that acts as an intermediary between staff and volunteers in the field, but we do other things as well. Two weeks ago we had a meeting in which I was “elected” president, which really means that the other two people who could have done it didn’t want to. So I’ve also gotten saddled with that. It means I’ll be interacting with staff a lot more, coordinating meetings, organizing the committee in general, and helping to plan my group’s mid-service conference in August. Anyhow, I said “yes” to the chair position that I got by default and in the process, said “yes” to a mountain of additional work. What makes it more complicated is the poor internet connection in my house that prevents me from sending and receiving email on a regular basis. This is a problem because communication and coordination is a large part of the piece. Despite those problems, I look forward to the experience and being able to work on my group work skills. I don’t pretend that what we do is crucial to volunteer life, but it is important. I don’t pretend that being chair means anything at all, especially when two people wanted nothing to do with it. It basically means as much as a service medal in the USSR, but I know that I’ll learn a lot from it in the process. I already have even early on.
Let’s look at the early schedule for the remainder of May: tour of Tirana with VAC and the new trainees, where I’ll give a presentation about what VAC is and collect names for a later election; my normal load of classes at the high school; a special events day at the language school that I’ve been handpicked to help organize; a training session in Elbasan for 30+ people to help non-teachers with ideas for English teaching; elections for new VAC members in Elbasan on the same day; a weekend trip to Croatia with my school and finally, the Special Olympics. June is the start of the World Cup, so I plan on spending some time with a friend in southern Albania to cheer Team Germany; I’ll be working on the planning stages of the mid-service conference; school will be ending and an Albanian friend will spend half of the month on the beach so we’ll be spending time together. Throw in private courses with all different students weekly, another issue of the newsletter, and my friend Priscilla’s visit for a large chunk of July, and August is really the only somewhat free month and even then we’ll have the mid-service conference. I have to carry my schedule around with me and write everything down because there’s too much going on. It’s not unpleasant and I still feel comfortable, but after a year here, I’m going to start saying no to people.
Finally being consistently busy makes me think back to last year when I arrived on site. It was so hard to feel like I was doing much of anything once the school year started. I never felt like it was a competition by any means, but you sometimes feel that other volunteers are better adjusted or just working better than you, and it can eat at you. It took me a long time to get settled in here and to meet enough people to start several balls rolling. And trust me, it’s not even about getting a ball rolling. You literally have to run with a ball the whole way, pushing it as you go since most projects and ideas are your babies… and your babies alone. It’s taken me a year to build up a network of students and potential collaborators. The thing is, I don’t think it could have gone any faster than it did. As I mentioned, there are lots of setbacks in any process here. You can never just come up with an idea and make it happen. There’s coffees to drink, some selling to be done, identifying people to help… and then making sure that everyone follows through. I’m lucky to have met people that are genuinely interested in my ideas and sharing their ideas with me.
I thought I’d have it easy, being assigned to a high school. “How hard can it be to define your role there?” I thought. It turns out that it’s difficult, although not as difficult as people working in the municipalities and health centers around Albania. It’s been hard for some people to find work. A year in, and some people still haven’t consistently found much of anything to be doing. It can be very trying when you’re in that phase. Maybe you aren’t going to work daily or aren’t meeting with your assigned counterpart or you aren’t on the same page. On days when it’s really bad, you would be hard pressed to find a reason that you’re here. Those are the worst days. But Marx and I agree that work puts value into a person’s life, and even on the days when I feel like ripping all my hair out and getting on the plane, I couldn’t ever do it. Because I feel responsible for my students and for my community. Sometimes all I need to do is think about my work here and that is enough for me.
So having gone through the phase of having very little to do, I have a very low tolerance for volunteers who are still experiencing this problem. We’ve been in our communities for a year. I’ve always been someone who has believed that if you really want to work, you’ll find something. And although there are certain caveats with that way of thinking here, I still believe that. We are a year in, some volunteers aren’t ever at their sites. Some have given up hope of having a meaningful service. Some are here to party. More than what is acceptable have little grasp on the language, which contributes to the inability to find projects. I know what it’s like to be in a similar situation, and I’m still guided by the belief that you are always responsible. In this case, you’re responsible for your inability to find work. It’s here, but sometimes you really, really have to look for it. And that’s the difficult part.
Currently, I’m serving on VAC (Volunteer Advisory Panel). We are a small committee that acts as an intermediary between staff and volunteers in the field, but we do other things as well. Two weeks ago we had a meeting in which I was “elected” president, which really means that the other two people who could have done it didn’t want to. So I’ve also gotten saddled with that. It means I’ll be interacting with staff a lot more, coordinating meetings, organizing the committee in general, and helping to plan my group’s mid-service conference in August. Anyhow, I said “yes” to the chair position that I got by default and in the process, said “yes” to a mountain of additional work. What makes it more complicated is the poor internet connection in my house that prevents me from sending and receiving email on a regular basis. This is a problem because communication and coordination is a large part of the piece. Despite those problems, I look forward to the experience and being able to work on my group work skills. I don’t pretend that what we do is crucial to volunteer life, but it is important. I don’t pretend that being chair means anything at all, especially when two people wanted nothing to do with it. It basically means as much as a service medal in the USSR, but I know that I’ll learn a lot from it in the process. I already have even early on.
Let’s look at the early schedule for the remainder of May: tour of Tirana with VAC and the new trainees, where I’ll give a presentation about what VAC is and collect names for a later election; my normal load of classes at the high school; a special events day at the language school that I’ve been handpicked to help organize; a training session in Elbasan for 30+ people to help non-teachers with ideas for English teaching; elections for new VAC members in Elbasan on the same day; a weekend trip to Croatia with my school and finally, the Special Olympics. June is the start of the World Cup, so I plan on spending some time with a friend in southern Albania to cheer Team Germany; I’ll be working on the planning stages of the mid-service conference; school will be ending and an Albanian friend will spend half of the month on the beach so we’ll be spending time together. Throw in private courses with all different students weekly, another issue of the newsletter, and my friend Priscilla’s visit for a large chunk of July, and August is really the only somewhat free month and even then we’ll have the mid-service conference. I have to carry my schedule around with me and write everything down because there’s too much going on. It’s not unpleasant and I still feel comfortable, but after a year here, I’m going to start saying no to people.
Finally being consistently busy makes me think back to last year when I arrived on site. It was so hard to feel like I was doing much of anything once the school year started. I never felt like it was a competition by any means, but you sometimes feel that other volunteers are better adjusted or just working better than you, and it can eat at you. It took me a long time to get settled in here and to meet enough people to start several balls rolling. And trust me, it’s not even about getting a ball rolling. You literally have to run with a ball the whole way, pushing it as you go since most projects and ideas are your babies… and your babies alone. It’s taken me a year to build up a network of students and potential collaborators. The thing is, I don’t think it could have gone any faster than it did. As I mentioned, there are lots of setbacks in any process here. You can never just come up with an idea and make it happen. There’s coffees to drink, some selling to be done, identifying people to help… and then making sure that everyone follows through. I’m lucky to have met people that are genuinely interested in my ideas and sharing their ideas with me.
I thought I’d have it easy, being assigned to a high school. “How hard can it be to define your role there?” I thought. It turns out that it’s difficult, although not as difficult as people working in the municipalities and health centers around Albania. It’s been hard for some people to find work. A year in, and some people still haven’t consistently found much of anything to be doing. It can be very trying when you’re in that phase. Maybe you aren’t going to work daily or aren’t meeting with your assigned counterpart or you aren’t on the same page. On days when it’s really bad, you would be hard pressed to find a reason that you’re here. Those are the worst days. But Marx and I agree that work puts value into a person’s life, and even on the days when I feel like ripping all my hair out and getting on the plane, I couldn’t ever do it. Because I feel responsible for my students and for my community. Sometimes all I need to do is think about my work here and that is enough for me.
So having gone through the phase of having very little to do, I have a very low tolerance for volunteers who are still experiencing this problem. We’ve been in our communities for a year. I’ve always been someone who has believed that if you really want to work, you’ll find something. And although there are certain caveats with that way of thinking here, I still believe that. We are a year in, some volunteers aren’t ever at their sites. Some have given up hope of having a meaningful service. Some are here to party. More than what is acceptable have little grasp on the language, which contributes to the inability to find projects. I know what it’s like to be in a similar situation, and I’m still guided by the belief that you are always responsible. In this case, you’re responsible for your inability to find work. It’s here, but sometimes you really, really have to look for it. And that’s the difficult part.
Changes and Memories
I was thinking today about how different I am here. One of my closest friends is coming to visit in July. We talk several times a week so things really haven’t changed much as far as communication. I’m looking forward to the visit to see how we’ve both changed in this last year: it’s going to give me a partial sneak peak when it comes to readjusting to life and friends back home. Reverse culture shock was something I learned firsthand when I came back from Germany the first time to an incredibly disappointing and traumatic senior year of high school. What I discovered, and what was ultimately the most difficult lesson I learned, was that life does in fact go on without you. At that time, my friends and I had changed so much that the differences became irreconcilable. This time around I’m far less naïve.
I’ve changed in personality. It’s hard to explain the stress of being here sometimes and the strange ways it manifests itself. I’ve had some moments where I’ve behaved poorly or snapped at people because of something totally unrelated to them. Although it might sound contradictory, this experience is teaching me to be more patient. I’m trying my best to understand other people and how they work and to try and be less rigid with them. Some days it takes a tremendous effort.
There’s also a certain amount of loneliness which is almost inevitable. Sometimes it’s not even enough to have friends and family here. For some of us, maybe we feel far from home. For most of us, I think it’s just that we are far from what is familiar. I might even call it desolation. People try to do their best with you but there’s still a sort of loneliness.
The biggest challenge here is keeping morale up: it’s a mental game. On an average day there are usually more setbacks than steps forward, and those are exactly the kind of things that grate on you after a while. So you try to keep your head above the water and do what you have to to weather the storms. Most of the time, you can’t count on anyone to save you. You realize that you have to deal with things on your own. Sometimes people have too much of their own things going on here, and to that end I’ve felt that I’ve been left hanging on a couple occasions. The only source of reliable strength I have comes from within, and I always have a choice in the way I react, behave and feel. In the end, I feel that I’m learning a lot of things about people and myself. Some things I don’t like. In some ways I feel that I’ve become weak. I feel like I put up with things that I would never put up with in the US. But I chalk a lot of that up to the overall mental experience of being here; they are qualities that I think will normalize once I’m in a more comfortable situation.
There have also been positive changes. I’ve been able to become more of a leader than I have been up until this point. I’ve taken more initiative and made more of an effort to be outgoing. And I think I’ve finally learned the value of not dressing like a dirtbag. Which brings me to the actual point of this entry.
Today I dressed up really nicely and had to laugh when I looked in the mirror. When I was little, my mom tried to enforce a dressing up policy, and I’d always find ways to undermine it. It began with ripping panty hose and, in middle school, I’d wear a skirt when I left the house but change into jeans before I got to school. As I looked in the mirror, I started laughing because I was thinking about all the comments my mom would have for me if she saw me dress in a skirt and a dress shirt with a yellow scarf draped around my shoulders. It was the perfect spring outfit and I felt like wearing it even after my classes were over.
Making use of the beautiful weather we’ve had here the last two weeks, I took a book and my notebook down to the beach. The season starts in less than two weeks and the hotels and restaurants are busy putting up their umbrellas and organizing the chaise lounges. In the meantime, the beach is vacant. I usually spend two hours reading every afternoon so I thought it would be nice to spend today on the sea.
With my iPod in hand, I got to the beach and took off my dress shoes. After navigating some dunes I began walking right on the water’s edge. The sand there is still kind of soft. I stood for awhile enjoying the hazy day and feeling the sand disappear beneath my feet as the water retreated back in on itself. I walked for a long time on the beach front, getting a little deeper into the water with every couple steps. On my way back home I was in well over my ankles, all the while wearing my skirt and carrying my shoes. And I got I got splashed pretty good when I wasn’t paying attention.
And that’s when I thought of my mom. And that’s when I felt that I needed to write this story.
My first best friend’s name was Ashley. I had known her since second grade and we remained friends until high school started and we went in completely different directions, as friends often do. Aside from The Sound of Music, we also went through a phase where we loved the Disney movie Pocahontas. I have since learned that it wasn’t historical accurate (?!). There was a point where, thanks to the wonders of Disney and capitalism, the both of us were buying Pocahontas action figures. I think there were six of them in all and each one cost five dollars. I was still in this phase when my parents and I took a vacation to Maine. In true Rhoads fashion, once I get fixated on something, I am stuck. I was fixated with completing my collection as soon as possible. It was all I could think about. I didn’t think about the figures I had, but the ones that remained out of reach.
Our vacation took us to Black Sand Beach at Acadia National Park. I remember that you had to go down a couple flights of stairs to gain access to the beach, one of what seemed like a zillion stops within the park. The three of us were walking along the beach. Although it was in the summer, we are talking about the northern Atlantic, and I remember the water was kind of cold. I remember I was wearing stovepipe jeans that had become the bane of my mother’s existence, since she had a daughter who never dressed like a girl unless she was forced. I think I was taunting my mom by going further and further into the water and looking back to see her reaction. It was then that she leveled a dare.
“Go into the water up to your knees,” she said, “and I’ll give you five dollars.” My mother was aware of my fixation, so the sum of money couldn’t have been mere coincidence or an arbitrary amount.
In my head, the wheels turned. What was there to lose? This was as close to a financial slam dunk as a middle schooler was going to get.
Now I don’t recall exactly what really happened. I’m sure I pulled up the stovepipe legs of my jeans, which were far larger than my actual legs. I’m sure I thought at least for a second before I went in. But something went wrong in the process. Maybe it was the fixation coming to get its revenge. Maybe it’s because I laughed at a bird eating a chicken McNugget that fell on the ground in a Wal*Mart parking lot earlier in the trip (which is still funny to me today). I don’t know. What ended up happening was a wave hitting me in the course of events. And soaking me well up to my waist.
I can still hear my mother’s laughter. I can still feel the weight of my jeans and the salt inside them. I remember getting in the truck wet and taking my normal, awkward sit in the middle, straddling the gearshift.
And today, as I walked on a beach thousands of miles away, years later, where if I would have said on the day I took the dare that I’d be living in Albania teaching English for two years and none of us would never have believed it, I was transported back to that day… the day where I won five dollars on a bet. And my mother spent the most entertaining five dollars of her life.
I’ve changed in personality. It’s hard to explain the stress of being here sometimes and the strange ways it manifests itself. I’ve had some moments where I’ve behaved poorly or snapped at people because of something totally unrelated to them. Although it might sound contradictory, this experience is teaching me to be more patient. I’m trying my best to understand other people and how they work and to try and be less rigid with them. Some days it takes a tremendous effort.
There’s also a certain amount of loneliness which is almost inevitable. Sometimes it’s not even enough to have friends and family here. For some of us, maybe we feel far from home. For most of us, I think it’s just that we are far from what is familiar. I might even call it desolation. People try to do their best with you but there’s still a sort of loneliness.
The biggest challenge here is keeping morale up: it’s a mental game. On an average day there are usually more setbacks than steps forward, and those are exactly the kind of things that grate on you after a while. So you try to keep your head above the water and do what you have to to weather the storms. Most of the time, you can’t count on anyone to save you. You realize that you have to deal with things on your own. Sometimes people have too much of their own things going on here, and to that end I’ve felt that I’ve been left hanging on a couple occasions. The only source of reliable strength I have comes from within, and I always have a choice in the way I react, behave and feel. In the end, I feel that I’m learning a lot of things about people and myself. Some things I don’t like. In some ways I feel that I’ve become weak. I feel like I put up with things that I would never put up with in the US. But I chalk a lot of that up to the overall mental experience of being here; they are qualities that I think will normalize once I’m in a more comfortable situation.
There have also been positive changes. I’ve been able to become more of a leader than I have been up until this point. I’ve taken more initiative and made more of an effort to be outgoing. And I think I’ve finally learned the value of not dressing like a dirtbag. Which brings me to the actual point of this entry.
Today I dressed up really nicely and had to laugh when I looked in the mirror. When I was little, my mom tried to enforce a dressing up policy, and I’d always find ways to undermine it. It began with ripping panty hose and, in middle school, I’d wear a skirt when I left the house but change into jeans before I got to school. As I looked in the mirror, I started laughing because I was thinking about all the comments my mom would have for me if she saw me dress in a skirt and a dress shirt with a yellow scarf draped around my shoulders. It was the perfect spring outfit and I felt like wearing it even after my classes were over.
Making use of the beautiful weather we’ve had here the last two weeks, I took a book and my notebook down to the beach. The season starts in less than two weeks and the hotels and restaurants are busy putting up their umbrellas and organizing the chaise lounges. In the meantime, the beach is vacant. I usually spend two hours reading every afternoon so I thought it would be nice to spend today on the sea.
With my iPod in hand, I got to the beach and took off my dress shoes. After navigating some dunes I began walking right on the water’s edge. The sand there is still kind of soft. I stood for awhile enjoying the hazy day and feeling the sand disappear beneath my feet as the water retreated back in on itself. I walked for a long time on the beach front, getting a little deeper into the water with every couple steps. On my way back home I was in well over my ankles, all the while wearing my skirt and carrying my shoes. And I got I got splashed pretty good when I wasn’t paying attention.
And that’s when I thought of my mom. And that’s when I felt that I needed to write this story.
My first best friend’s name was Ashley. I had known her since second grade and we remained friends until high school started and we went in completely different directions, as friends often do. Aside from The Sound of Music, we also went through a phase where we loved the Disney movie Pocahontas. I have since learned that it wasn’t historical accurate (?!). There was a point where, thanks to the wonders of Disney and capitalism, the both of us were buying Pocahontas action figures. I think there were six of them in all and each one cost five dollars. I was still in this phase when my parents and I took a vacation to Maine. In true Rhoads fashion, once I get fixated on something, I am stuck. I was fixated with completing my collection as soon as possible. It was all I could think about. I didn’t think about the figures I had, but the ones that remained out of reach.
Our vacation took us to Black Sand Beach at Acadia National Park. I remember that you had to go down a couple flights of stairs to gain access to the beach, one of what seemed like a zillion stops within the park. The three of us were walking along the beach. Although it was in the summer, we are talking about the northern Atlantic, and I remember the water was kind of cold. I remember I was wearing stovepipe jeans that had become the bane of my mother’s existence, since she had a daughter who never dressed like a girl unless she was forced. I think I was taunting my mom by going further and further into the water and looking back to see her reaction. It was then that she leveled a dare.
“Go into the water up to your knees,” she said, “and I’ll give you five dollars.” My mother was aware of my fixation, so the sum of money couldn’t have been mere coincidence or an arbitrary amount.
In my head, the wheels turned. What was there to lose? This was as close to a financial slam dunk as a middle schooler was going to get.
Now I don’t recall exactly what really happened. I’m sure I pulled up the stovepipe legs of my jeans, which were far larger than my actual legs. I’m sure I thought at least for a second before I went in. But something went wrong in the process. Maybe it was the fixation coming to get its revenge. Maybe it’s because I laughed at a bird eating a chicken McNugget that fell on the ground in a Wal*Mart parking lot earlier in the trip (which is still funny to me today). I don’t know. What ended up happening was a wave hitting me in the course of events. And soaking me well up to my waist.
I can still hear my mother’s laughter. I can still feel the weight of my jeans and the salt inside them. I remember getting in the truck wet and taking my normal, awkward sit in the middle, straddling the gearshift.
And today, as I walked on a beach thousands of miles away, years later, where if I would have said on the day I took the dare that I’d be living in Albania teaching English for two years and none of us would never have believed it, I was transported back to that day… the day where I won five dollars on a bet. And my mother spent the most entertaining five dollars of her life.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Homophobia in Albania
When a new season of the television show Big Brother begins, it dominates conversation throughout Albania like very few other topics can. Unlike the US version, this reality show is broadcast 24/7 on two different channels. The show features contestants who live in a closed-off house for 100 and compete for prize money, and each week a contestant is voted off in a special show on Saturday night. Albanians spend hours a day watching it and even more time talking about it. Also, it’s in the running for one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen.
Last fall, Prime Minister Berisha passed a law that acknowledged homosexual marriages in a move that most of us consider positioning for EU entrance. We joked that it seemed so odd to think that gay marriage would be fully acknowledged in Albania before it was in the US. But just because a law passes doesn’t mean the public will instantly accept the ideas behind it. Albania remains very conservative socially, considering that it’s not common for guys and girls to even go for coffee together if they aren’t at least engaged.
I think a fellow volunteer said it best: what Albania needs to happen for it to really think about the homophobia issue is a gay participant on Big Brother.
Well, this season saw its first out contestant. Let me preface this by saying that many of the contestants, while they are Albanian, have spent significant time in Italy or other Western countries. Not only does this affect their abilities to speak Albanian, but it also effects their perceptions of issues in that they frequently differ from that of Albanians that remain in Albania.
So what did the public think when Klodian, a 35-year-old from Milan, came out?
Long story short: not well. Protests erupted in Klodian’s hometown of Lezhë. Around 400 people, largely young men, declared ““Lezhë is clean – we have no homosexuals.” There was talk about defending the honor and reputation of the town. In a society based on a cult of masculinity, homosexuality is unforgivable because it’s perceived as feminizing a man. Homosexuality is one of the grand-high “shameful” characteristics in a culture and language that has an entire list of “shameful” things. Homosexuality is shameful but drug and persons trafficking, alcoholism, blatant pollution, corruption and wife-beating, all negative elements of life here, are somehow not considered in the same light. To an outsider, it’s really puzzling.
You see this in every country: young, mostly uneducated and definitely unemployed men with all kinds of frustrations that they take out on others. Why aren’t these young men protesting about their poor educations, about corruption, about unemployment? Surely those factors affect them far more than any gay man on television ever could.
Fatos Lubonja, a long-term political prisoner under the former communist regime, commented that the protests demonstrate “the dismal state of 21st century Albanian society.” The frustration and the anger about other things spill over. Many Albanians deny that any gay people exist here, which always forces me to stifle my laughter at such an impossible thought. There are in fact gay Albanians, but this climate doesn’t leave any room for them to be out. There’s been a lot of commentary within the Albanian media, since Big Brother is the large source of any debate here and it has made people think. But the issue has gone outside of the country.
The European Union weighed in on the events in a country that desires membership:
”The European Union expresses its concern on the recent cases of homophobia and discrimination on grounds of sexual orientation. The events in Lezha and the public debate and criticism over the publication of a series of books intending to introduce gender perspective in the education system by the NGO, Gender Alliance for Development Centre, lead the EU to recall that the EU Treaties prohibit any discrimination based on sexual orientation and that the principle of equal treatment as well as women’s empowerment are fundamental values of the EU. The effective implementation of these values in Albania is essential for the realization of its European perspective, as stated in the EU Commission Progress Report on Albania.”
What is the EU saying? That because the EU respects all people and believes that all people should have equal rights, these kind of violent protests (about a person on television, no less) go against some of the guidelines set by the EU for Albania’s entry. I don’t know to what extent this influences Albania’s candidacy, but it’s definitely a step back from last year’s legislation. Earlier this year, an anti-discrimination law was passed that included sexual orientation and gender identity, but that didn’t stop the mass protests. The persecution that goes on and the risk that people run coming out is astounding. Aside from the familial rejection that gays the world over face, there is a safety element that also affects gay Albanians. Not only that, but rheir very futures can be negatively affected, if not ruined. And so will the future of a country that bars certain citizens from receiving their rights and being protected under law.
Last fall, Prime Minister Berisha passed a law that acknowledged homosexual marriages in a move that most of us consider positioning for EU entrance. We joked that it seemed so odd to think that gay marriage would be fully acknowledged in Albania before it was in the US. But just because a law passes doesn’t mean the public will instantly accept the ideas behind it. Albania remains very conservative socially, considering that it’s not common for guys and girls to even go for coffee together if they aren’t at least engaged.
I think a fellow volunteer said it best: what Albania needs to happen for it to really think about the homophobia issue is a gay participant on Big Brother.
Well, this season saw its first out contestant. Let me preface this by saying that many of the contestants, while they are Albanian, have spent significant time in Italy or other Western countries. Not only does this affect their abilities to speak Albanian, but it also effects their perceptions of issues in that they frequently differ from that of Albanians that remain in Albania.
So what did the public think when Klodian, a 35-year-old from Milan, came out?
Long story short: not well. Protests erupted in Klodian’s hometown of Lezhë. Around 400 people, largely young men, declared ““Lezhë is clean – we have no homosexuals.” There was talk about defending the honor and reputation of the town. In a society based on a cult of masculinity, homosexuality is unforgivable because it’s perceived as feminizing a man. Homosexuality is one of the grand-high “shameful” characteristics in a culture and language that has an entire list of “shameful” things. Homosexuality is shameful but drug and persons trafficking, alcoholism, blatant pollution, corruption and wife-beating, all negative elements of life here, are somehow not considered in the same light. To an outsider, it’s really puzzling.
You see this in every country: young, mostly uneducated and definitely unemployed men with all kinds of frustrations that they take out on others. Why aren’t these young men protesting about their poor educations, about corruption, about unemployment? Surely those factors affect them far more than any gay man on television ever could.
Fatos Lubonja, a long-term political prisoner under the former communist regime, commented that the protests demonstrate “the dismal state of 21st century Albanian society.” The frustration and the anger about other things spill over. Many Albanians deny that any gay people exist here, which always forces me to stifle my laughter at such an impossible thought. There are in fact gay Albanians, but this climate doesn’t leave any room for them to be out. There’s been a lot of commentary within the Albanian media, since Big Brother is the large source of any debate here and it has made people think. But the issue has gone outside of the country.
The European Union weighed in on the events in a country that desires membership:
”The European Union expresses its concern on the recent cases of homophobia and discrimination on grounds of sexual orientation. The events in Lezha and the public debate and criticism over the publication of a series of books intending to introduce gender perspective in the education system by the NGO, Gender Alliance for Development Centre, lead the EU to recall that the EU Treaties prohibit any discrimination based on sexual orientation and that the principle of equal treatment as well as women’s empowerment are fundamental values of the EU. The effective implementation of these values in Albania is essential for the realization of its European perspective, as stated in the EU Commission Progress Report on Albania.”
What is the EU saying? That because the EU respects all people and believes that all people should have equal rights, these kind of violent protests (about a person on television, no less) go against some of the guidelines set by the EU for Albania’s entry. I don’t know to what extent this influences Albania’s candidacy, but it’s definitely a step back from last year’s legislation. Earlier this year, an anti-discrimination law was passed that included sexual orientation and gender identity, but that didn’t stop the mass protests. The persecution that goes on and the risk that people run coming out is astounding. Aside from the familial rejection that gays the world over face, there is a safety element that also affects gay Albanians. Not only that, but rheir very futures can be negatively affected, if not ruined. And so will the future of a country that bars certain citizens from receiving their rights and being protected under law.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Vacation's Over
After two amazing weeks in Cairo, during which I spent such a large amount of time eating or thinking about eating food that wasn’t pizza or pasta, coming back to Albania proved to be a bit of a bumpy emotional landing. In some ways, it’s really only the food that is the hardest thing for me. Albanian food is great—but severely lacking in creativity given the large amount of available ingredients. Steaks and sushi in Egypt were great boosts before coming back to another year of starch, salt and olive oil.
After taking about two weeks to get re-adjusted, I’m back to where I was before. Service is made up of peaks and valleys and all volunteers experience highs and lows. Part of what has snapped me out of the funk is the arrival of 50 new volunteers. I’ve met them a few times now and been able to deliver a few training sessions to them. I really like the group in general as well as the TEFLers I’ve gotten to know on closer levels.
But the more I look around, the more I start to feel bewildered by the politics that affect most facets of our everyday lives. It gets even worse when I know I’ll have to play these power games my whole life. But the egos are more off-putting than even the politics. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to deal with anyone because it’s hard to believe how seriously people take themselves and their own needs. I haven’t had a job where I’ve been able to notice this fact as much as I do now. Some of the things I’ve heard lately, from people being displeased with their future sitemates already (they haven’t even moved there yet!), to PCVs hoping their new sitemates aren’t so good that they steal some of their spotlight, down to people who want titles, power and their opinion to be know but refuse to put in the work that it takes to really deserve them…This is certainly an eye-opening experience on that level, but it also gives me the opportunity to work towards solutions as opposed to being someone who elevates the problem.
We have about two months left in the school year, and only a month is left for seniors. I’m still running my enrichment classes, but I’ve added two English test prep classes for seniors. In Albania, the college application process is really nothing like that in the United States. Seniors pick a few exams they will take in different subjects (I think it’s 3 or 4) and the tests are held close to the end of the school year. Their performance on these tests determines the likelihood of getting into the university they want for the subject they want. There’s some other mathematical stuff like the points on the tests being multiplied by a coefficient unique to their school, as established by the Ministry of Education, but that would just be getting too technical.
The problem with the English test is that a normal student’s education wouldn’t really prepare them for the test. Reading comprehension and writing assignments are two areas that aren’t handled much in Albanian English classrooms, but they both appear on the final exam for university. Why? I don’t think the years of English that students have should be done specifically with the intention of preparing them for the test. I think the test should be realistic and be grammar-centric, which is the backbone of English instruction here, or instruction should change to cover other aspects of language learning like reading and writing. As it stands now, the two things. Just. Don’t. Match. Up. So here I come, trying to help them learn new things that they most likely have very limited experience with so that they can perform well on a test that partly determines their university future. You don’t ever really “learn” anything at this point, a little more than a month before the test. The best you can do, or at least the best I can do, is try to stir up all that information in their brains that’s been collecting for years so that it can rise to the surface of their thoughts on test day. I know they know things but that it takes some practice to recall all that information. I’ve also been doing some test-taking strategies with them to hopefully help them utilize their time wisely and to be as relaxed as possible when it comes time to take the test. But I can’t help but feeling that what I’m really trying to do is compensate for all these areas that have been abandoned (reading, writing, critical thinking) and will now have to be re-visited on the test… and for what?
After taking about two weeks to get re-adjusted, I’m back to where I was before. Service is made up of peaks and valleys and all volunteers experience highs and lows. Part of what has snapped me out of the funk is the arrival of 50 new volunteers. I’ve met them a few times now and been able to deliver a few training sessions to them. I really like the group in general as well as the TEFLers I’ve gotten to know on closer levels.
But the more I look around, the more I start to feel bewildered by the politics that affect most facets of our everyday lives. It gets even worse when I know I’ll have to play these power games my whole life. But the egos are more off-putting than even the politics. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to deal with anyone because it’s hard to believe how seriously people take themselves and their own needs. I haven’t had a job where I’ve been able to notice this fact as much as I do now. Some of the things I’ve heard lately, from people being displeased with their future sitemates already (they haven’t even moved there yet!), to PCVs hoping their new sitemates aren’t so good that they steal some of their spotlight, down to people who want titles, power and their opinion to be know but refuse to put in the work that it takes to really deserve them…This is certainly an eye-opening experience on that level, but it also gives me the opportunity to work towards solutions as opposed to being someone who elevates the problem.
We have about two months left in the school year, and only a month is left for seniors. I’m still running my enrichment classes, but I’ve added two English test prep classes for seniors. In Albania, the college application process is really nothing like that in the United States. Seniors pick a few exams they will take in different subjects (I think it’s 3 or 4) and the tests are held close to the end of the school year. Their performance on these tests determines the likelihood of getting into the university they want for the subject they want. There’s some other mathematical stuff like the points on the tests being multiplied by a coefficient unique to their school, as established by the Ministry of Education, but that would just be getting too technical.
The problem with the English test is that a normal student’s education wouldn’t really prepare them for the test. Reading comprehension and writing assignments are two areas that aren’t handled much in Albanian English classrooms, but they both appear on the final exam for university. Why? I don’t think the years of English that students have should be done specifically with the intention of preparing them for the test. I think the test should be realistic and be grammar-centric, which is the backbone of English instruction here, or instruction should change to cover other aspects of language learning like reading and writing. As it stands now, the two things. Just. Don’t. Match. Up. So here I come, trying to help them learn new things that they most likely have very limited experience with so that they can perform well on a test that partly determines their university future. You don’t ever really “learn” anything at this point, a little more than a month before the test. The best you can do, or at least the best I can do, is try to stir up all that information in their brains that’s been collecting for years so that it can rise to the surface of their thoughts on test day. I know they know things but that it takes some practice to recall all that information. I’ve also been doing some test-taking strategies with them to hopefully help them utilize their time wisely and to be as relaxed as possible when it comes time to take the test. But I can’t help but feeling that what I’m really trying to do is compensate for all these areas that have been abandoned (reading, writing, critical thinking) and will now have to be re-visited on the test… and for what?
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