My Mother the Socializer

In the womb my mother expected me to be nothing less than what every mother expects from their child. She envisioned me as an adorable angel that was the greatest gift life could ever give her. As for the values and lessons she expected to teach me to shape me into who she wanted me to be, that was a much longer list. My mother wished me to be kind, compassionate, and considerate. Over the years she has taught me to be open minded, authentic and respectful. She has tried for years to drill into my head the mediocrity is not a goal it is stepping stone as a push the envelope and work for all my goals. Most of the these have been entered into my life from such a young age I feel as if they are a part of me. But, there are many lessons she continues to teach that still haven't quite caught on yet such as being thorough (a word a have come to abhor due to her application of it in every situation possible), being a better planner, and biggest of all not procrastinating. I haven't mastered any of these to say the least, but I continue to be reminded of them. My family is not as tight as other families may be. We don't have a lot of large traditions but rather small ones that are so integrated into our lives we barely even notice them anymore. My parents and I always have to hold hands on take off and landing. And at landing, my mom and I always try and look out the window of the plane, gauge the time, and count down to see how close we are to when the plane actually touches down. Other traditions like going to temple during the high holidays and breaking the fast of Yom Kippur are less traditions, at least in my mind, and are more of obligations, yet my mother sees continuing judaism as a tradition, probably the most important. As for my personality, I was reminded that as a child I used to say, "I have my dad's body and my mom's attitude" meaning, though my metabolism wasn't as quick as it should have been, I made up for it with my exuberant personality. My mother passed on her need to be in control and impulsiveness to me, though if I had to pick, I would have wanted her ability to never be embarrassed. And from my dad, I got my AWFUL sense of humor, a small puns sets me laughing for a good while, and his uncanny ability to reign in emotions and become calm in a matter of seconds. What my mom describes as an unhealthy suppression of emotion, I would describe as a strength in the way that I don't tend to be extremely angry about things. Throughout this interview, I didn't seem to learn anything I didn't already know about my mother and my socialization. For every situation my mother has a lesson and for every event my mother can tie it back to judaism, so forgetting about what socialized me is like asking a child to think about nothing, difficult and next to impossible.

Found: Lost Boy of Sudan

Though I had seen this documentary once previously, I still found myself seeing new things and taking the same stance on it. Seeing the boys having the world the knew ripped out from under them and placed into the meat grinder we call America was gut wrenching for me. I saw the culture shock they went through and the extent they went to, to preserve their culture that was quickly being replaced by american customs. The food they eat, the clothes they wear, their daily schedules were all americanized. The older members of the Lost Boys were more adamant in preserving the culture of Sudan while the younger member completely conformed to their new society, almost entirely leaving behind their home. I found myself feeling a sense of loss for the younger boys as they rejected one of the things that made them who they are. Through out the movie, I placed myself in their shoes. Through the culture shock, the hard work, the confrontation with the police. I was realized how strong these men are that they could handle and even thrive in a culture so completely different from there own. I believe I wouldn't have been able to survive the severe alteration in societies; I think I would have crumbled under the pressure of so many new things and new rules. I admire these boys for going to America for more opportunities and the good of the community. Though passing them on the street most would consider them, 'low class', they possess something that most americans don't have, a selflessness to do what needs to be done no matter the cost.

It's Anyone's Game

There is simple card game that can alter anyone's perspective of culture within five minutes.  What I thought was going to be tournament to assess each person's personal patience and inner pride, turned out to be a frustrating test of each person's ethnocentricity. Placed in groups, each student was required to learn a card game, the rules, the restrictions, the trumps. After running through the game quite thoroughly and attempting a few practice rounds, we were ready to move on to the competition portion of the game. The only rule, no talking. I didn't have a problem at first, I got a lucky hand (all hearts, the trump card). After playing a few rounds, I gathered up my winning hands and counted them out in comparison to the other players at my table. Seeing as I won, I was instructed to shift over one table clockwise. As I sat at the next table, I exchanged silent smiles with my new opponents and took a seat. The cards were dealt out and the game commenced. At the first hand, I noticed something... different, about this game. I was the first to place my card down, I placed down a heart, the other three players placed down cards of other suits. Since hearts trump all, no matter what, I moved my hand towards the cards to claiming my winnings. I was beat to it. As one of the other players swiped the hand off the table I stopped her. Trying to motion as descriptively as possible, I tried to explain that hearts trumped everything and therefore I won the cards. The more agitated all of us got the more we began to try and silently communicate. Finally, we were put to rest as the teacher called our attention back to the front. Apparently, each table was given a different trump and when we switched tables our trumps clashed. Just like when you go to a new place, your customs/trumps may not coincide with other's customs/trumps. When barriers such as language stand in the way of explaining why you did what you did, things can get messy. I was frustrated by the difficulty for my opponents and I to communicate. In reality, people react one of three ways to this sort of situation. One can either take the path of ethnocentrism and think the person you are with is wrong and must follow how you do things because that is the only right way. One can go into culture shock and be unsure of how to react.  Or one can understand the other person's culture, their different customs and accept the way they are. Although I understood where the stigmatize was coming from, what I was most frustrated about was the lack of ability to communicate. But that's how it is in the real world. Two people with clashing customs most likely don't speak the same language, making it difficult to explain their differences. I wasn't angry with my other opponents differences in their game rules, I was frustrated by the incapacity to communicate. We are always told to talk it out, but how can you do that without a common language.

Just Harvest

Walking into the cafeteria styled space, I felt intimidated. Though the Stevenson students made up for a majority of the volunteers, the idea of talking with people whom I didn't know and whom were homeless made me nervous. What if I said the wrong thing? What if I ran out of things to talk about? What if I offend them? These questions floated around in my head as I adorned an apron and manned my station.

As people filed through the doors, I began to dish out menus and conversation, my nerves eased. I was surprised that time progressed the table a had picked to personally converse with was full of generally well read mean and women who were able to recommend books of a wide array to me. We discussed environmental issues, books, movies other topics that were not as difficult as I thought they would be. Coming in, I had made assumptions that being homeless equated being uneducated, but that was absolutely untrue.

As the room got more full, we began to serve meals. Though I didn't necessarily have time to have heart to hearts with the people eating,I still felt that I could tell people how much I appreciated being here by giving them a smile and, "Enjoy!" as I handed them their meal. 

By the time the room cleared out my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. I had this light feeling in my chest, a natural high, you could call it. I felt as if I could do anything, climb a mountain, saving a cat from a burning building, or even take over Atlas's job! I had an unbelievable sense of accomplishment that showed from my inability to stop smiling to my continual mentioning of the people I met because To me it really 'just' a harvest, it was so much more!

Lorax v.s. The Once-ler (A Tale of Sociological Mindfulness)

Once upon a time there was a man who disregarded all paths of mindfulness in order to pursue his goal of the thneed. The thneed we speak of is made from the tufts of a Trufula tree. These trees support a lively habitat for various bears, odd birds, and singing fish. Their fruits give nutrients and their treetops give homes to the nests of the birds. When the Once-ler enters this forest he doesn't take the time to understand the life these creatures have there, or how their form of society works. The Once-ler barges in, picks up an axe and just starts swinging. If he had been sociologically mindful he would have seen the havoc he was wreaking on the habitat of these animals. The Lorax is then summoned to prevent any further damage to come to the forest. Without the forest there would be no homes, no shelter, no food and the whole area would die. The Once-ler only sees great big Trufula trees of cash. By being sociologically mindful he could have weighed the cost of decimating the land around him versus make a piece of clothing no one really even needed. By being sociological mindful he would have made the right choice and just walked away.

Slippery Slope of Sociological Mindfulness

Schwalbe describes sociological mindfulness as appreciation of other's unique qualities that were formed by the way they were raised, the struggles they endured, and the ideas and beliefs of those that surrounded them. It is the understanding of this uniqueness and the courtesy to alter behavior based on others because our actions inadvertently effect a large number of people. Reading about sociological mindfulness helped me to see a parallel in my parent's own teachings. Both my mother and father drilled into my head that every action you make effects people every where no matter how small you think a decision is or how minor a comment may be. Although I try, I have a lot of difficulty implicating this into my own life. I am completely aware of how my actions effect others but sometimes I choose to ignore. Maybe because it's too painful. Maybe because my own emotion are getting in the way. But for whatever reason, I ignore it.

Maybe that's why when it comes down to it, people ignore what's right in order to get what they want. The middle aged man refuses to give up his last seat on the life raft for the young mother. The son yells at his hard working mother. The rushing car cuts off the student driver on his way to work. All these things people do knowing that there are better, more mindful ways to act. People choose to ignore them. This style of action took the stage when the class partook in the "Life Boat" simulation. After our fictitious boat crash, each student was given a different part, and we were meant to vote off 7 of our 16 passengers because the life boat was only designed to hold 9. As the debate began, the first person to come under fire, was the overweight passenger. With no mindfulness for how the conversation made the person feel, we attacked the issue of weight on a small vessel or the issue of rations for a person with a larger diet. We spoke of the benefits of keeping this passenger on and of kicking him off. After choosing to kick him off seeing as the risks out weighed the benefits, we moved onto our next passenger. This is where whatever sociological mindfulness we were still clinging onto was thrown out the window.

As the witch hunt progressed, the next to fall under fire was a Navy Quarter Master. The others on the small life raft went right for the most obvious reason that this person was "expendable" enough to no longer deserve life, the immobility of her hands. The mob pushed on the points that as she couldn't use her hands, what use would she be? This was where mindfulness completely disappeared. Although she was a part of the Navy and therefore could help in any navigational attempts, the inability to use her hands made her less useful than an able bodied person. The others lack of mindfulness made kicking a married mother or four off the boat that much easier. Though, after put myself in their shoes I would have made the same decision. In order to survive, able bodies people were of higher importance.

Given the situation, I realized in life and death some people will take the chance to hold on to their mindfulness and some will let go.

The Art of Doing Nothing

If Sun Tzu had written the Art of Doing Nothing I wonder how differently the world would have evolved. 

I left my house Saturday morning at 9:00 and ventured out into the world of overpriced coffee and two tailed mermaids. Sitting at Starbucks, It took me a sold ten minutes to clear my mind. Every time I tried to reach a point of zen, my thoughts would run back to something that I did earlier on in the day, how people would react to my silence, and even what I was going to eat for dinner. When I came to understand what it really meant to clear one's mind, it was shocking that I as hard as I tried, I couldn't do it. There was always a song playing on a loop in my brain or a round of images circling through my head. Sitting at a table close to the door, I was cast a mixture of glances from onlookers, ranging from confused to annoyed. While people milled in and out, I just sat there looking around with no phone, no drink, no headphones, nothing out on the table. The people sitting in the cafe looked over their shoulders at me, waiting for a sign of whether I was waiting for someone, playing on my phone under the table, just doing something. People were perplexed and put off at the sight of someone who wasn't being constantly stimulated by some form of technology. I felt as though I stuck out like a sore thumb.

When a "normal" person sits by themselves somewhere in silence, they are usually fidgeting with something. I believe that society sees people who don't feel the need to always be staring at a screen to be out of place and weird. What about people makes them feel so uncomfortable by themselves that they feel the need to always look absorbed in something tangible? Why can't we just be absorbed in thought? I think if zen was promoted more in society, the world would come to see that being in your own bubble of thoughtlessness is restorative and not to be considered odd just because society has deemed it so. 

People quote the Art of War all the time. So if Sun Tzu had changed his topic, would the world today be so disturbed and uncomfortable at the sight for doing nothing? Or would it be considered a norm?