Being Thankful

It's never to late to express thoughts of being thankful.

Sit back and enjoy TTS26 as they share a glimpse of what they have been thankful for over the past 15 weeks.

https://youtu.be/S6fjA4IJCwc           

Student work

Happy Sunday! Here are a few demonstrations of recent student work.

Enjoy.

RRR - A weekly Global Studies essay to React, Reflect, and Respond to something from the previous week.

RRR
BY: Lydia, Junior, Idaho

As I’ve grown up, I continuously find myself to be more comfortable around people with lighter skin. This proved true once again as we began our trip down the Orange River. I felt more comfortable talking with and being around Warren, the one light skinned guide. I usually don’t question my comfort level in relation to someone’s skin color, but because of our recent discussions in Global Studies, I began pondering the reasons for my feelings. I pretended that the other two guides, Johnny and Hermanus, had light skin as well. I suddenly felt like I could approach and trust them equally to Warren. I continued playing this little trick on myself to notice my reaction in different instances. Each time, once I eliminated any preconceived notions due to their skin color, I was drawn to each guide equally in terms of asking questions and getting to know them. After I eventually got to know Johnny, I was not only more comfortable around him but also felt compelled to be extra nice after learning about his life. This wasn’t because I felt bad for him, but because I felt guilty of judging without knowing him at the beginning of the trip.

Preconceived ideas about different races caused me to instantly judge both of the darker skinned guides. I wonder where these stereotypes come from and where or when I have been exposed to them most throughout my life. Once I trusted Johnny and grew comfortable approaching him, I felt bad and thought I should help him out in some way. This reminds me of an experience I encountered in my hometown of Sandpoint, Idaho. Being a small, rural town in a deeply Republican state, I can safely say I’ve seen a total of three dark skinned people in my town of 8,000. One of these three is a woman who I often drive by as she walks home from her job at the co-op. Each time I see her, I think about offering her a ride home. Now I ask myself, why? Why would I do this for a black woman I don’t know when I wouldn’t for any white stranger? For some reason, I felt a need to help both this woman and Johnny.

Both of these experiences have led me to several questions. Now I wonder why we put up with and accept these stereotypes? Also, when is someone influenced with the information that defines what is supposedly about each group of people who share a similar skin tone? These two questions are tied together in that we must first identify where the information comes from. I suspect most people are influenced by the ways people of color are depicted in movies and TV shows, news, history and by their friends, family, and greater communities. Some people may be surrounded only by information about a certain group of people instead of the people themselves, so they accept it without questions. How can we educate people to alter their opinions? Even if this is possible, could we ever change people’s subconscious instincts? I want to lean more about what I can do to take action toward solutions. I now promise myself to practice a greater awareness of when I act under the influence of stereotypes.



RRR 

By Kira, Senior, Vermont

A mama lion protects her cubs with love and fierce determination from the harsh elements of the world they live in.  Ella was our township guide and in my eyes was one of the fiercest and loving mama lions I have ever met.  She has fourteen children in her care, two being biological.  These children came from abusive, alcoholic and un-supportive parents.  Some the police brought, other dropped at Ella's door.  Not one was turned away and Ella cared for each as her own.  As I watched her interact with one of the girls you could see how much she loved Ella and felt safe with her.   I was very impressed and touched by her true determination to raise these children right.  I also immediately felt the safe atmosphere in Ella's small house and from her warm hugs.

When I think of Ella she reminds me of “the cool mom down the street” with her vibrant and contagious energy.  It was this welcoming generously that gave me the feeling of security.  I imagined how different it must feel to change from an abusive childhood to a supportive one.  How does one woman have the ability to change the lives of so many?  Growing up I rarely heard of people fostering and everyone I knew grew up in a healthy environment. I remember at one point in my life my family discussed fostering a baby, but it was a long process of which we were not prepared for. Although Ella lives somewhere that has a much easier process an a higher demand for foster parents, taking in kids takes an incredible amount of time and effort.  Ella puts her heart and soul into raising these children and deserves every bit of respect.

If the government were to take action and get the children out of dangerous situations and gave them proper education would the unemployed rate in South Africa decrease?  I began wonder how society would look if we nurtured and healed more children from abusive backgrounds.  I wondered how I could help or volunteer, but then I thought about the problems of voluntourism that we discussed in global.  How can we make a difference in these childrens' lives without having a deep understanding of their culture?  I suppose Ella is the answer.  I hope I can aid her in the future and create a small yet positive impact on the world.

RRR 
By Mimi, Sophomore, Georgia

“For some damn reason I was born with a conscience and had do something about it.”  Denis Goldberg shared his story with us as we ate mac + cheese that he prepared himself.  It was only after hearing him speak that I realized how inspirational he was and the impacts he made in South Africa's history.  He was just a regular boy, born in Cape Town, aware of the racism that was happening around him.  He was no different than his peers, there were plenty of others who knew what was happening, but Denis took the risk and made a change.  Plenty of his peers, black or colored or white, involved themselves in protests but most of them ultimately placed their personal lives above the struggle against apartheid.  Denis was jailed for 4 life sentences, this meant he would never get to live a normal live again.  He would never see his loved ones, never enjoy the simple pleasures that I take for granted everyday.  Arguably the worst part, he couldn't continue fighting for this struggle that he had poured his heart into.  “I couldn't find a way to make my children more important than all of the others in South Africa.”  This especially stuck with me because it demonstrated his outstanding goodwill and character.  He devoted his entire life to a cause that didn't even have to affect him.

I want to reflect on the importance of selflessness.  Denis was growing up during apartheid – aware of what was going on.  He, being born a white man, could do almost anything he wanted in his life.  On the other hand, the black and colored people had so many limitations and restrictions on their lives in South Africa solely because of the skin color they were born with.  Denis could so easily have lived his life as a bystander; pitying the oppressed but not taking action.  Instead, he fought.  He was capable, so why not take a stand?  What was holding him back?  Many things actually.  He sacrificed his relationship with this family, and everyone he knew.  To this day, he and his daughter still don't have a good relationship because they misunderstand each other.  She thinks he abandoned her and he missed so much of her early developing life that they struggle to mend their relationship.  He mentioned what she said about him, “not everyone has to love their hero, in fact, I hate mine.”  This represents how even though he's out of jail now, his early decision to give his life to this struggle will affect him and those around him forever.  What does it take, to give one's life to make a change?

If everyone has the potential to live a life of dignity and make a change, why do such few people actually act?  The struggle against apartheid represents so much more than just politics.  It is a prime example of how a few brave people can come together and fight for a change.  Denis probably never thought, as a child, that he would one day help end the system of apartheid and change millions of lives – seriously.  I know that everybody has issues that they're unhappy with, whether they directly affect one or not.  As we've been discussing in Global, many problems exist in the world today and the world does need changing.  So why do so many of us just sit back and stay uninvolved?  I understand that it may be hard to believe that one person can make a difference, but if everyone had this new mindset then who knows where we could go!  Overall, Denis' actions inspired me like no one ever has before.  If more people were aware of the potential they have, we could have a world full of Denis Goldbergs.

Next up... a vignette

Wait!

An Introspective Journey

By Emma, Senior, Washington

Cast:

EMMA

LYDIA

RACHEL

Acknowledgments:

Cookies 1-4 Courtesy of Lydia 

Cookies 5-6 Courtesy of Emma 

Cookies 7-8 Courtesy of Rachel

Based on a true story

SCENE I: The stage is set, two strange girls, six cookies, free time and a dream. The girls sit cross legged in the opening of a small tent by the bank of an offshoot flowing into the Okavango Delta. Their campsite is spacious and grassy. The river flows playfully, donkeys bray in the distance, fellow students mill about but the girls sit oblivious. Their eyes fixate on two meager piles of cookies, three and three. Each girl scarfs one down.

LYDIA: Wait! (EMMA looks up from her remaining cookies, evidently startled.) We should eat them slowly.

EMMA: Yes, mindful eating.

They each pick up their second cookie and bring it thoughtfully to their lips, eating little chunks at a time, neither wanting to finish first.

EMMA: (As if suddenly struck by a lightning bolt of inspiration.) Wait!

LYDIA: What? (LYDIA looks around frantically, then down at their half eaten cookie.)

EMMA: What if these cookies represent our trip so far? (LYDIA stares.) The first cookie was our first month. (Pause.) Gone. (LYDIA'S eyes widen. EMMA in full swing, continues excitedly.) Yeah! Then the second cookie is our second month. (Pause.) Look how quickly its gone by! We have to savor it. (Slowly.) We have to truly savor it. (EMMA and LYDIA eye their cookies.) Then the third cookie is month three, right now at the pace we're eating, it doesn't seem like we'll ever get there, but soon enough– (EMMA takes a nibble of her second cookie for dramatic effect.) It'll be gone too!

LYDIA: Oh my God! (EMMA and LYDIA giggle maniacally reveling in their own brilliance.) Okay, okay let's take another bite.)

EMMA and LYDIA slowly consume the second cookie, bites interspersed with wild gesticulations.

LYDIA: Wow.

EMMA: (In reference to final cookie.) Shall we?

EMMA and LYDIA hungrily stare down the third cookie, it stares back naively, unknowing of its imminent doom.

LYDIA: Already? (EMMA and LYDIA exchange furtive glances.)

EMMA: It's time.

Gingerly, EMMA and LYDIA lift their cookies high in the air. 

BOTH: (Yelling.) Cheers! (They begin to eat, then finally, after much anticipation and revelry, it's all over.) Wow...

Enter stage right. RACHEL. She is quickly informed of the situation.

RACHEL: Wait! (Pause.) I have more cookies.

EMMA and LYDIA look at RACHEL as if she had offered up her firstborn.

LYDIA: Can we have one? (LYDIA eagerly leans forward out of the open tent flap. RACHEL hurries offstage returning shortly with two almond cookies clutched in her hands.)

RACHEL: (With the air of an enlightened saint bestowing great wisdom upon their followers.) Here.

ALL look about as if uncertain as to what may happen next. EMMA and LYDIA hold their treats delicately in the palms of their hands.

EMMA: Oh wait! I have a great idea.

LYDIA: What? (EMMA smirks evasively.)

RACHEL: (Loudly.) What?

EMMA: (Caving in quickly.) This cookie is 'the half'. (EMMA looks up to find LYDIA and RACHEL nodding slowly, their expressions blank and confused.) This trip, (EMMA continues, exasperated,) is three, (with deliberate emphasis,) and a half, (pauses,) months long. (LYDIA and RACHEL'S eyes widen as understanding dawns on them.)

LYDIA: Whoa. (EMMA and LYDIA lay back on their beds in amazement.) Time is gonna fly in those last few weeks.

RACHEL who had been standing outside the tent exits stage left in search of more interesting conversation.

EMMA: Yeah, crazy.

LYDIA: (Looking around mischeviously.) Let's stuff it in our faces. (EMMA grins.)

EMMA: Ah, symbolism.

The face stuffing commences.

END OF SCENE I

Trapeze swings of transformation

Hello TTS26 fans~

We are days away from greeting the newest alumnae at airports across the country. And yet, we don’t really know what to expect. I bet there are lots of questions – Have I changed? Has she changed? What should I do to welcome her home?. Or, maybe you are just plain excited and haven’t questioned how things will pan out past the initial hug. While I am no expert, I know there are many facets to leaving for a TTS semester, experiencing a semester, and then coming home from a semester, and each piece deserves a special space for all participants (students, teachers, friends and family).

This group has built a powerful community; and I suspect there will be many reunions in the future. I am continually impressed with their respect for one another, laughter, engagement with their surroundings and compassion. They made TTS26 a family, and currently, they are trying to figure out what it means to re-structure this family and return to their real families at home. For some there are many questions, for others there is excitement/angst/sadness. Our task as vicarious TTS26ers is to help with the transition back home after these gals spent 15 weeks in Zambia, Botswana, Namibia and South Africa building long lasting friendships through hot and cold, sandstorms and rainstorms, rafting and hiking, and classes everywhere in between.

I share the story below to help us open up to the idea of transformation and the unknown that lies beyond the horizon line of the present. However, I don’t think of coming home from TTS as something to fear, rather it is that growing space filled with wonderment. TTS26 has spent the semester living in the moment, finding inspiration and sparking passion for what may lie ahead. Some students found a new potential career, some witnessed a moment that made them stop and question EVERYTHING, and feel the power of the global community. They are coming home invigorated to continue this path, but wondering how to do it in a new community. As blog followers, we need to support this transition, motivation and curiosity. We need to listen, mentor, share and expose these ladies to outlets in our communities. We also need to remember that not every transition is instantaneous, everyone moves at their own speed.

Enjoy the story below envisioning it from your daughter’s perspective. She swung from one trapeze to board the plane to Seattle, caught another in southern Africa and is about to leap for the next one when she says good-bye to TTS26 and heads toward home.    

Stay tuned for more TTS specific blogs throughout the week. Teachers will post about transition activities and common hopes and fears with ideas to support the transition. We'll send mentor comments and more. 

Cheers,

Aunge

Fear of Transformation

*From the Essene Book of Days

Sometimes I feel that my life is a series of trapeze swings. I'm either hanging on to a trapeze bar or swinging along or, for a few moments in my life, I'm hurtling across space in between trapeze bars. Most of the time, I spend my life hanging on for dear life to my trapeze-bar- of-the-moment. It carries me along a certain steady rate of swing and I have the feeling that I'm in control of my life. I know most of the right questions and even some of the right answers. But once in a while, as I'm merrily (or not so merrily) swinging along, I look ahead of me into the distance, and what do I see? I see another trapeze bar swinging toward me. It's empty, and I know, in that place in me that knows, that this new trapeze bar has my name on it. It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me. In my heart- of-hearts, I know that for me to grow, I must release my grip on the present, well-known bar to move to the new one.

Each time it happens to me, I hope (no, I pray) that I won't have to grab the new one. But in my knowing place, I know that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar, and for some moment in time, I must hurtle across space before I can grab onto the new bar. Each time I am filled with terror. It doesn't matter that in all my previous hurtles across the void of unknowing, I have always made it. Each time I am afraid I will miss, that I will be crushed on unseen rocks in the bottomless chasm between the bars. But I do it anyway. Perhaps this is the essence of what the mystics call the faith experience. No guarantee, no net, no insurance policy, but you do it anyway because somehow, to keep hanging onto that old bar is no longer on the list of alternatives. And so for an eternity that can last a microsecond or a thousand lifetimes, I soar across the dark void of "the past is gone, the future is not yet here." It’s called transition. I have come to believe that it is the only place that real change occurs. I mean real change, not the pseudo-change that only lasts until the next time my old buttons get punched.

I have noticed that, in our culture, this transition zone is looked upon as "nothing", a no-place between places. Sure the old trapeze-bar was real, and that new coming towards me, I hope, that's real, too. But the void in between? That's just a scary, confusing, disorienting "nowhere" that must be gotten through as fast and as unconsciously as possible. What a waste! I have a sneaking suspicion that the transition zone is the only real thing, and the bars are illusions we dream up to avoid the void, where the real change, the real growth occurs for us. Whether or not my hunch is true, it remains that the transition zones in our lives are incredibly rich places. They should be honored, even savored. Yes, with all the pain and fear and feelings of being out-of-control that can (but necessarily) accompany transitions, they are still the most alive, most growth-filled, passionate, expansive moments in our lives.

And so, transformation of fear may have nothing to do with making fear go away, but rather with giving ourselves permission to “hang out" in the transition between the trapeze bars. Transforming our need to grab that new bar, any bar, is allowing ourselves to dwell in the only place where change really happens. It can be terrifying. It can be enlightening, in the true sense of the word. Hurtling through the void, we just may learn how to fly.