Sleepless (Psychologist) in Seattle

I am a morning person.  I love waking up early and feeling as though I've got a head start on the day.  There's so much hope in the morning!  When you travel from the East Coast to the West Coast you can wake up at 5 in the morning, full of life, and ready to go.

I traveled from Virginia to Seattle this past week for the National Association of School Psychologists conference.  Here are a couple of highlights from the week:

Playing tourist:  The Chihuly Garden and Glass museum was inspiring.  It felt like walking through a Dr. Seuss book--bright colors, odd shapes, mixing nature with the imagined.  Everyone in the museum seemed to be smiling out of sheer delight.  I'm putting Mr. Chihuly in the same category as Walt Disney.  Both dream and make those dreams into reality.

Being academic:  At the conference I attended a session on identifying students with Autism Spectrum Disorder.  Autism is a complex disorder to identify, and instead of studying a list of behaviors that lead to a diagnosis, we were given the kinds of questions to ask to actually get to know the individual.  After all, giving someone a label/category/diagnosis is simple.  Actually identifying ways to help the individual is much more complicated and much more helpful.

Life lessons:  On the flight home I sat next to a man who talked to himself.  Not only talked to himself, but had some interesting conversations with himself.  He sang, put on hand sanitizer multiple times, and didn't want to touch anyone (difficult in a plane).  When I asked him what his name was he half-looked at me nervously and said, "I don't speak English."  I asked if he spoke French and he said, "Sometimes."  I asked him if he was traveling alone.  He looked completely amused and said, "It's really funny that you just said that."  He then pointed out that there were people all over the plane.  How silly of me not to have noticed!  At one point he went back to the airplane lavatory and the man who was sharing our row leaned over and said in a somewhat demeaning way, "This guy is weird."  I felt the need to defend him and said something like, "Yes, but he seems kind-hearted."  My row neighbor was not convinced.  I'm grateful for the opportunity I have had to study disabilities.  Instead of seeing disabilities,  I'm beginning to see simple differences.  Understanding the differences make it much easier to love, and isn't loving the whole point?

Till next time!  
    

Why, Hello Virginia.

I've taken some time way from blogging, but I'm going to pick it up again.  I'm starting a new adventure (let's call it "Internship") and I need somewhere to document it all.  

After a 3.2 day trek across the USA mom and I (and my bike) made it to Virginia.  My initial assessment of the state is positive.  It's very green, very humid, and there are loads of lovely bike trails.  One of my hopes in coming out here is that I will encounter more diversity.  I certainly found it in Walmart on my second day.  I don't think there were any employees there who weren't black.  I'm also told that one of my schools is 75% Hispanic (I knew I should have taken Spanish classes).  It's going to be fun!  I'm very excited to learn.  Here are a few things I have learned so far:

1. When merging on the freeway... you do not have the right-of-way.  It's the craziest thing.  I was under the impression that when you are driving along the freeway and someone is trying to merge on you either speed up or slow down so that they can come on.  Right?  Wrong!  When driving around D.C. it's the responsibility of the merger to figure out how to fit in.  No space?  No luck :P

2. Living in a hotel is fun.  I live in a hotel.  Really, it feels just like a hotel!  The only exception is there isn't someone to make may bed for me every day.  Other than that it's the same.  I'll probably write an entire post on what it's like to live here.  I love having access to a gym and pools!

3. Recycle.  I was chatting with some new friends here and telling them of my progress in getting moved in.  I said, "I've finished unpacking, I just have a few boxes to throw away."  I was very quickly corrected. "Oh, you mean you need to recycle the boxes?"  Point taken.  The boxes will be recycled.

More adventures to come...        

Measure of Success

My grandpa was a great man.  Today, at his funeral, all nine of his children spoke.  I learned some new things about grandpa.  I had never known he had over a hundred patents to his name, or that he was the dean of an electrical engineering department for 17 years, or that when he taught at the university he was simply captivating.  Grandpa was never one to brag.  He was considered a genius, yet considered himself a simple farm boy.
Grandpa made me feel like a million bucks.  When I was with him I always knew I was the prettiest, smartest, most talented girl in the world.  As I listened to his children speak today I realized that, somehow, grandpa made everyone feel that way.  How did he do it?  How did he make everyone feel so loved and so valued?  He, more than most men, had reason to be praised and admired.  But  when you were with grandpa it was never about him.  It was always about you.
As I listened to story after story about how grandpa had, in a very personal way, helped someone feel they were of worth, I realized something.  That's success.  That's real success.  The jobs you have, the clothes you wear, the books you publish, the cars you drive, the titles you receive, at the end of the day really don't matter.  After you're gone no one will care about that.  A better measure of success will be how you made others feel about themselves.  Grandpa changed my life because he was able to see potential in me and help me believe in myself.  I still feel his love and support, perhaps even stronger now than I did before.  Thank you grandpa.            
 

Family-less in Phily

I entered the elevator on the first floor and pressed number nine. The only other lite-up number was 22, which I assumed had been pressed by the weary-looking business man in the corner. I estimated that we would share this elevator ride for about 20 seconds. I wanted to say something, but knew our conversation would be brief:

"Wow, you're going to the top!" was the first thing that came to mind.

"It doesn't matter to me," He responded. "When you travel as often as I do it's not special."

"Oh, what do you do?"

"I'm a consultant. I travel all the time. Traveling is not glamorous. I have a wife and two kids at home." He looked sad. At this point the elevator door opened.

"I hope your trip goes well." I said, with a sympathetic smile while stepping off. He nodded, "Thanks" and the elevator door closed.

If our world were a village of 100 people...

If you visit the family care foundations website you'll find the following:

http://www.familycare.org/special-interest/if-the-world-were-a-village-of-100-people/

"If we could reduce the world's population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all existing human ratios remaining the same, the demographics would look something like this:

The village would have 61 Asians, 13 Africans, 12 Europeans, 9 Latin Americans, and 5 from the USA and Canada

50 would be male, 50 would be female

75 would be non-white; 25 white

67 would be non-Christian; 33 would be Christian

80 would live in substandard housing

16 would be unable to read or write

50 would be malnourished and 1 dying of starvation

33 would be without access to a safe water supply

39 would lack access to improved sanitation

24 would not have any electricity (And of the 76 that do
have electricity, most would only use it for light at night.)

8 people would have access to the Internet

1 would have a college education

1 would have HIV

2 would be near birth; 1 near death

5 would control 32% of the entire world's wealth; all 5 would be US citizens

48 would live on less than US$ 2 a day

20 would live on less than US$ 1 a day"

One of my prized possessions is a globe/lamp that sits on my desk, right next to my bed. It's a touch lamp, so each time you touch it it gets brighter. If you've ever seen "While you were sleeping," it's kind of like the lamp that Lucy's mother gave to her father. Very romantic.

So, after I read through these statistics a couple of times, I sat staring at my lamp for a while, looking at the size of my home in relation to the other countries in the world and the thought struck me; I forget. I forget that most people in the world do not live the way I live. I've read these statistics before, I'm sure of it. But it is still so easy to forget... my lifestyle is unusual.

I am the 1 in the village with the college education. I wonder what it would feel like to stand with my fellow 99 other villagers knowing that I was the only one who had the choice to study whatever I wanted to study, and to become whatever I wanted to become. I am one of the 5 who will control 32% of the worlds wealth. Not sure what I did to deserve that one. I am one of the 32 villagers who can live on more than $2 a day. When I thought a bit about how I would survive on less than $2 a day, I felt hungry. If I ever feel malnourished it's because I have been too busy or lazy to make myself healthy food and have been frequenting Taco Bell a little to much.

As further example: Most people in the world don't wake up in the morning (at whatever time they choose) and try to decide how to fit in two social calls, one shopping trip, homework (that is actually super interesting), a party, and personal time for scripture study, blogging, and doing my hair. Yeah... my life is pretty... fun.

I am in a multiculturalism class right now that is really pushing me to change the way I think about my blessings (which is just one more privilege few have). We've talked about unearned privilege a lot and how we should not feel guilty because of our wealth... we just need to remember that most of our privileges are indeed unearned and that where much is given, much is required. I think that what is required of me is that I learn to not put myself above or below others. Next week as an assignment for this class I'll spend several hours at the homeless shelter doing one-on-one interviews with the homeless about their life experience. I hope that I'm not judgmental. I'm sure that I will be, but I'm going to try really hard not to assume that because I have an education, clean clothing, and peace, that I am in any way better then them. I want to learn to see all of the villagers in this global village the way God sees them.

We are not the 99%... we are the 1% (or the .01%)

Gaming (the exciting sequal to Growing Up)

The post on Growing Up was getting a bit long... but I do have a few more thoughts.

Some people live in stories forever because they don't feel like a hero in real life. One example of this is gamers. I'm not talking about people who play video games here and there. Games can be fun and I don't have anything against people who play them. I'm referring to those who spend 12 hours a day, 6 days a week in the game. It happens.

I knew a young man who was trying to be free of his gaming addiction. I've never heard someone speak so passionately about his or her desire to make a difference in the world and to be a leader. But he saw his attempts (in his ward, with his family, and at work) as failures and felt rejected by the world. He turned to games to fill that void. In the game he could command an army and work with others towards a greater good. He felt respected and powerful. Here's my problem with this. It's deceptive! He felt successful and fulfilled because he could easily and quickly see the points adding up and the territory growing larger. He could chat with others playing and feel like he had friends. He had numbers to prove his success. But what good did he actually do? Nothing! He wasn't taking any real risks because if things went bad he could just check out. Who did he help? No one! We live in a world of instantaneous gratification. Unlike earning points or power in a game, in life you don't get that kind of instantaneous proof. Though he felt successful in one way he also admitted to hating every other human being. That's proof enough to me that something has gone array.

I feel bad for my friend. I can see his potential. It's huge! I believe he'll pull out of it. I hope he'll learn that in life we just do our best and then trust that our efforts are making a difference, even if we can't see it. We can't expect a crowd to cheer our name and sing praises to us. The greatest heroes go unsung but they change the world nonetheless. They don't live in stories. They take risks and allow themselves to be vulnerable in order to help others. They grow up :)

Growing Up

I've always loved trying to figure people out! Can you think of anything more fascinating than people? I'm told that as a child when my family would have parties, instead of playing with the other children I would often sit with the adults, just listening quietly. I don't know exactly why, but I imagine I found adults had more interesting things to say and more complex personalities to understand. I could sit there, mostly unnoticed and just soak it in. This will sound a little silly, but in a way I felt like a secret agent, trying to infiltrate the adult world and understand the secrets hidden therein.

My mom called me the low maintenance child--content to listen quietly or play in my room by myself (which I could do for hours). I was rarely bored. When people were around I would listen and try to understand. When alone (times which I treasured) I could take my observations and use them to create stories. Oh how I loved my stories! They always involved complex, conflicted characters who at first seemed small and unimportant, but then discovered hidden abilities which allowed them to become brilliant leaders and save the day. I didn't write many of them down, but I acted them out, either with my toys or just in my head.

So that was my childhood. Quiet, but exciting to me. I imagine it's not an uncommon experience. Life is a little different now. I've grown up. I don't seem to have time to create the stories I did before. It's not that I don't want to, there are just more important things to occupy my time. I need to be responsible. It's of course good to grow-up, though I have a question. Does growing up mean you stop imagining? Does it mean the stories should come to an end? No, I don't think so! Those stories are really important. If you look at them closely enough they will show you who you are and who you believe you are capable of becoming. We cannot, we should not forget that! If we lose that belief in ourselves and our abilities to conquer evil and face insurmountable odds, if we lose that vision of the great work we are intended to do, we wont do it! We wont try! No, I think it's important to remember.

I still think up some stories and I can get entirely sucked into a good novel. These things help me to remember, but a big difference between being a child and now is that instead of acting the stories out in my mind, I have more of an opportunity to live them. It's exciting. Instead of pretending to be brave and speak out against the evils of the world, I actually have to speak. I actually have to feel opposition. I actually have to choose to have hope that all will turn out well, even though I do not have control over the end of the story. I can't just sit quietly with a group of adults and observe the way I once did. If I kept everything inside that would be wrong, a waste of all that practice I had acting these things out in the stories. I have to actually live!

It takes courage to live! In life we don't have control over the end of the story, we don't know what the other characters are thinking, and we can't take our words back when say something stupid. It would be easier to just live in a story... but where's the glory in that?