Albinism--The Documentary

It is quite rare that I watch television. I watch the morning news every day and find myself watching The Unit on Sundays. This weekend was an exception to the rule. Before heading to Zumba class on Saturday morning, I watched a documentary on Albinism.  The documentary highlighted the torment and bullying that happens to children who are Albino in the United States. One girl had done an extreme make-over to “fit in.” She had her hair, eyebrows, and eye lashes dyed. She at least had the resources to do that.

The most shocking thing that I learned from this documentary was that in Tanzania, there are groups of people who are “hunting” Albino people. Their limbs and hair are cut off to be used in a witch doctor’s potions. It is believed that the parts haves special healing and longevity powers. The woman featured in this part of the documentary had a child of her own. Her arms had been cut off at the elbows. Prosthetics had been given to her, but they hurt her too bad for her to wear them. She couldn’t clothe, bathe, or feed herself, let alone care for her child. She was brought to the United States to have prosthesis made especially for her. She learned how to put them on herself and how to use the two hooks that she would use as her hands.

There was a journalist who went in undercover and told the story about a woman who had four children. The woman was threatened by a group of hunters. They demanded the albino 7- month old. They told her if she screamed, they would kill her other three children too. Could you imagine being in this situation? Her baby was killed and her other three children survived.

There are schools and safe places for the albino children to stay. These places are in desperate need of resources of things that I take for granted like hats to protect them from the sun.

Aren’t we especially lucky?

Fund-Raising

Let me preface this post with the fact that every single person that I come in contact with becomes an opportunity to blog. Eventually the interactions sink in and I begin to process what was actually communicated. I was struck by a conversation that I had with someone recently. It was more of a short dialogue in passing. It has stuck with me longer than conversations of that nature typically do. The conversation began with the generic opening greetings. The other person in the conversation asked me if the company I work for would be taking residents to a specific performance. I let them know that, indeed, we would be taking residents to the program on the “Senior Day.” The other person replied, “its so interesting that the people who have money attend the program that is free.” I didn’t have a reply to that at that moment. My ‘keep the peace’ frame of mind was engaged. It later occurred to me that perhaps our residents could afford to give back in other ways because they took advantage of what they qualified for now, being “seniors” and all.

Later that same day another person spoke about one of our residents and how wonderful the resident is. I concurred that this resident had done a lot for the Spokane Community. I didn’t appreciate the way that this person came a crossed when discussing the resident with me. The value of the resident seemed to be only recognized by the amount of money that had been donated to various organizations throughout Spokane.

Are we all just a dollar sign? Does the person who volunteered for hours to provide companionship to the lonely have any less value than those who donate tons of fiscal resources to change the way visions evolve?

These conversations served as great reminders to value everyone, not only for their resources but for their being.  We all have something very special and significant to offer the world.

Nicknames & Help

I've had quite a few nicknames in my 34 years of life. I'm sure that I can't recall them all. It seems that friends/family who spend the most time with me or did at one point in my life have come up with quite a selection of endearing terms for me. See below for a less than extensive list:

Mon
Mo
Moniqua
Monny
Mo Mo
Mo-Nanna
Red arm
Bunny head
Malibu Barbie
Buttercup
Princess
Mon Mon the Bon Bon

One of the most challenging things for me to do is ask for help. I say this because it relates to the fact that readers of this blog have said to me that they've posted comments and I'm unable to see them. Does anyone else see comments? If so, don't tell me here. Tell me on Facebook. :) And if you have any problem-solving strategies for me to employ, by all means I welcome your assistance. Your feedback is extremely important to me.

Social Media Overload

I'm fascinated by the Social Media world.

I know that it is evolving and the speed in which it develops is beyond my comprehension. I've attended three social media workshops in the past four weeks.

One was presented by a couple of local businessmen who own their own companies and are paid to advise clients on how to use social media as a part of their online marketing strategy. It focused primarily on how to enhance Search Engine Optimization.

The second presentation that I heard was an overview of social media and how Volunteer Coordinators can use it to recruit, connect, retain, and recognize volunteers. I'll confess that I'm already using our company Facebook page to accomplish these objectives.

The most recent seminar that I attended was six hours of social media platforms, strategy, content, evaluations and controls. One of my co-workers said to me, "This could be a full-time job!" Indeed, it could. And now we have one more team member who has joined the social media parade.

It's time to develop policies and make a case for improved SEO. What I find particularly interesting is that some people aren't aware that I am an administrator on two different Facebook accounts. I'm also managing my own Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Blogger, and Google+ accounts. Is it time to stop the insanity yet? The challenge, should I choose to accept it, is in regards to content~Keep it fresh over a span of five social networks where friends, followers, connections, and circles collide.

Opportunity

A friend told me that I should appreciate the fact that my day-to-day work is generally not stressful. If and when I feel that there is unexpended energy, take the energy and direct it elsewhere.

An acquaintance of mine works full time and teaches Zumba 5-7 times a week. Now I'm wondering if that's where my extra energy should be directed. I'm going to my first Master's Class this weekend. I've been to a few fundraising events and have taken Zumba off and on since it was introduced in Spokane back in 2009. I've taken enough classes to know what characteristics I appreciate in an instructor. (ie Remind me to really "crunch" when I do chest pumps, remind me to stick my rear out when I do squats and to get low when I'm not AND keep it FUN!)

I'm anxious to be able to wear the Zumba wear. I want to be "hip" like to the cool kids. Zumba wear is finally available in XL and XXL, but I'm embarrassed to buy it knowing that I want to lose a good 50+ lbs so that I actually feel good wearing those clothes and wardrobe malfunctions become a distant memory. Besides, I couldn't possibly be an instructor at this size.

I've been a "dancer" for 25+ years...My dance experience ranges from Ballet, Tap, Jazz, Hip Hop, Funk, Clogging, Square Dancing, Foxtrot, Waltz, Jive, Salsa, Bolero, Cha-Cha, Rumba, West Coast Swing, and Tango. It's no wonder that Zumba hits a "cord" with me. :) I find myself in the car listening to music that I know Zumba routines to. And trust me, pumping your chest doesn't come easy in the car and at my size, pumping in the car leads to a whole lot of stares from surrounding drivers.

Plan:
1. Attend as many Zumba classes/functions that I can within the next three months to help me learn the routines and lose the weight.
2. Explore training classes and scholarship opportunities
3. Start a small group class of friends who enjoy Zumba as much as I do and who would support me in this new endeavor.

Tardiness

When I was in school I didn't have an option of being late. Well I did, but I also knew that negative consequences were attached to being late to class. I knew that at the very least everyone would be watching who was running through the door, I'd miss some super valuable piece of lecture or I'd have less time to complete a "pop" quiz.

It's funny that we get older and have more resources to get around faster and yet we still struggle to be on-time. In fact, for my generation, few arrive early to a function. It's almost the expectation. Formal affairs have adopted a cordial hour strategy to allow people to enter the event late without consequence.

Maybe if I had children I would be able to empathize a little bit more. Or I could use the excuse. I do understand some things are out of our control. And instead of planning better we accept the new practice as a standard operating procedure. Why do we do this? Why do we allow it of one another?

Running

If I had tennis shoes on right now I'd be running around Lincoln Heights Shopping Center.

I want to be heard. I want you to be as curious about me as I am about you. I want to tell you about my thoughts, fears, revelations, conversations, and more. I want to tell you that my body hurts from doing two hours of cardio (zumba) and I want you to say "great job!" l want you to tell me that I'm beautiful and that you wouldn't want me any other way.

I want to tell you that I spoke with Yong today. He advised me, much as family and friends do, on how I should increase my cash flow. Our conversation ended with an agreement that I wouldn't call him anymore because his girlfriend would arrive from China on February 21. I was hoping to visit with him on my trip to Seattle. Doesn't look like that is going to happen.

I want to be recognized for my hard work, talent, empathetic personality and passion to learn and grow. I want help from you to grow and be a better person and to be content.

I know. It's all my responsibility.

Leads--What do you do with them?

I've had the distinct opportunity to particpate in Leadership Spokane this year. I've met over 40 professionals in the city of Spokane who specialize in a vairety of professions. Total, I have procured three different leads as of 2/2/12.

The first was through Cindy Thompson who works at the Spokane Regional Health District. She had given me the name of an office who had physicians who specialized in sleep disorders. I was hoping to connect those physicians with our Wellness Director for a special lecture for the residents.

The second lead that I got was from Joe Williams of Lydig Construction. On Regional Economy day we toured the McKinstry office which was formerly the cable car garage. (The city used to repair the old cable cars there). Joe gave me the name and e-mail address of the woman who worked for McKinstry and who had given us a tour of their newly remodeled building. I thought that it could be a mystery trip of sorts for the residents.

The third lead came from Jeff Herbster of Winston & Cashatt Lawyers. He referred me to two of his partners who specialize in employment law. They will be speaking at a Spring Workshop for DOVIA (Directors Of Volunteers In Agencies) in May.

In case there is any question of how Leadership Spokane provides an ongoing networking outlet, here is proof in the pudding. Furthermore, it is only February. I've listened to lots of speakers who have presented at our special "topic" days and have learned far more about how our community works. I'm looking forward to hearing Mayor Condon's State of the City Address next week. It will be interesting to hear what his perspective is and how swiftly the change may come about.

Police Ride-along

In preparation for Governance Day for Leadership Spokane, our class had the opportunity to do police ride-alongs. I was paired with an officer who was one year older than me and who coincidentally had gone to the same high school as me. His grand-mother-in-law was a resident where I worked.

The night started off pretty slow. After going through orientation of how to light flares, where to find the first aid kit and how to use the police radio and call for backup, the shift officially began.

We responded first to a man who had called 911. He had passed a few men walking by him on the street and he believed that they were going to kill him. His name was Donny. He told us that he had just gotten out of Sacred Heart Medical Center and had been seen for chest pain. He also told us that he was homeless. He expressed that he had been down on his luck and had some depression issues. The officer told him that we would drive around and see if we could see any small group of guys walking around. Donny seemed ok with that and we left.

Later we responded to a Domestic Violence call. A man had called to report that his girlfriend was hitting him. As it turned out, the man had been beating her. She had fresh bruises all over her body. She didn't want him to go to jail because she knew that when he got out, she would feel the wrath again. She had just left a women's shelter and didn't want to go back. Me, being in plain clothes, standing with her as she pleaded to me not to have her "man" taken away gave me every reason to tell her to "get out of this relationship! You deserve so much better than this." However, I'd been asked to be a 'fly on the wall' and to not engage in conversation with the parties involved with the call. She told us that her granddaughter had just died and that she was very upset by that. The "man" was taken to jail by another officer. We waited for another officer to come and take photos of the woman in case she decided to file charges against him.

The next call we responded to was some minors being noisy down by the Maple Street Bridge. As we approached the group, one young man attempted to throw out his beer but didn't after being advised not to by the officers. After the IDs were checked and cleared, the teens were asked to be quiet, stop drinking and get out of that area. They seemed thankful that the officers were so easy on them.

The last call was from Donny again. He had called 911 and said that he was going to commit suicide. He had two bottles of pills and some fingernail clippers with him. We responded with another officer. He had only ventured about three blocks from the last time that we'd seen him. The medications and clippers were removed from his person. The officers gave him a choice, he could go to a homeless shelter or they could take him to the hospital so that he could talk to a social worker. He opted to go to the hospital. So, we all stood outside waiting for the ambulance to come and transport him. The man didn't seem to be intoxicated or under the influence of drugs. He just seemed to be down on his luck as he had said before. He believed that there were people who were going to hurt him in the homeless shelter. That's why he didn't want to go. He seemed overly conscious that there was a woman present and seemed embarassed when an officer found a condom in Donny's pocket.

I asked the officer, why we couldn't have taken Donny to the hospital. He said, if the Domestic Violence victim had asked us to take her to the women's shelter, we could have done that. But not a suicidal man. So, the taxpayers paid for the two officers to babysit him until the amulance arrived. AMR came with two men to take Donny to the hospital. And who knows how many times this man has been in and out of the hospital.

My life will forever be changed by what I witnessed that evening.

Masks-Not the ones we wear in October!

We wear many masks. Myself, I can't count them all. My paritioner, daughter, aunt, girlfriend, manager, volunteer, mentor, sister, ex-wife, friend, confident, advisor, employee, companion and princess roles somewhat intertwine with one another.

The question is how do we get to this point? And what do we do when we have dual masks to wear? I find myself behaving one way to suit a certain crowd and behaving another way to "fit in" elsewhere. What masks do you wear? And what triggers you to wear them?

I think masks are a socially acceptable and passive way of blending into the group that we are in at the moment. As I type this, I wonder why do I want to "blend in." Was it something in my cultural progrmaming that made me think that I was "supposed" to do that? Why don't I stand up and say what I have to say? Why am I not ok to interrupt someone who coonstantly interrupts me so that I, too, can be heard? Why does respect for someone else trump resepect for myself?

My guess is that I was taught to be polite, kind, empathetic, and nurturing. And that my opinion only mattered if someone was curious enough to ask about it. That makes sense, right? Haven't you had that person in your life who could go on and on about something completely unimportant to you? Did you sit and listen and wonder when it would end? Or would you wait for the other person to ask you about what is importatant to you? Or was it a monologue?

When someone asks how you're doing, do you reply, "fine?" What is fine? It's another mask we wear to avoid answering a question that people feel obligated to ask. Help me with this. If you ask me how I'm dong, and my reply is "fine," help me elaborate on that. For example, what was the best part of your day? What was the most difficult part of your day? What are you looking forward to this week? etc. I'm trying to get out of the habit of saying "fine." Mostly because I'm not "fine." I'm blessed and I'm thankful. But I've gotta long way to go to being content.

In an effort to not lose this post (as I have already done once) I'm going to stop here. Further reflection necessary to post additional content. I'd love your feedback on the topic, in the meantime!

Curiosity

Today's discussion revolves around etiquette and curiosity.

A resident is annoyed with another resident because when they are at a gathering together, one of them seems to monopolize the conversation. I asked the complaining resident why that bothered him so much. His reply was that he wanted to learn more about the other guests at the function too.

He asked for my advice. My most original piece was "invite those you'd like to know more about to your house. " As I think about it more, maybe he could be curious about why she feels she needs to carry the conversation. Maybe a little more understanding on both of their parts could be beneficial. I also suggested that he pose a group question that would allow each attendee to participate in the conversation.
I haven't decided if I can be as open as I'd like to be about it. He mentioned etiquette and how people just don't know how to carry conversations anymore. Maybe this resident (she) feels that it is her responsibility. How would he know that unless he asked. How would she know she comes across as monopolizing a conversation unless someone said something to her?

Giving up

Today I heard my boyfriend say "oh man, they just gave up." (referring to drivers trying to get around the city on snowing conditions)

I admit. I give up. An ok day at work resulted in me not being able to drive out of the unplowed community center parking lot. I spent over 30 minutes trying to get my car and Kathleen's car back into the parking spot. Kent picked us up and took Kathleen home. After we went shopping at Trader Joes and Fred Meyer we dropped a bag that had 2 dozen eggs in it. Then I found mice droppings under my sink. I give up. It's too much for me. I am exhausted emotionally and physically. What can you do for me right now? Just tell me that my good friends' grandma just passed away. That will put things into perspective.

I expect too much?!

Do I really? I expect to have the same amount of energy to take down Christmas decor, clean, and make a lasagna for dinner tomorrow night as I did when I was working 3 part-time jobs. The decor is almost all down. Now I just have to find a place for all if it. My dad let me borrow a lot of his and then I had some of my own. It was hard to take down the ornaments off the tree. I have such fond memories of who gave me the ornaments and why. Tears drenched my eyes as I sniffled to avoid bursting out. Now I just want to curl up and die in the basement. At least I would avoid falling down the stairs this time.

Kent helped me make lasagna and he put my bench together for me. I bought pizza for dinner, got gas and groceries. Put groceries away and cleaned up from dinner and making lasagna. I'm pooped already. The bins need to be brought downstairs and lots of cleaning should be done.

I'm guessing I will leave the meeting early tomorrow to come home and clean without Kent here. I'm not comfortable having him just sitting there while I work.

Mortality

One thing that I deal with on a regular basis working where I do, is death. I see people at their best. Many residents move in as independent residents I see them as their needs change. There is nothing comforting about this. Even though Rockwood maintains a significant role in the wellness of the residents, life happens. Residents fall, they get sick, they forget.

Today I learned that a residents' best friend passed away in December. The woman had been to the Community Center several times. She wasn't a resident, but might as well have been. We had grown quite fond of her. She was dealing with her 2nd (at least) bout of cancer. The resident was talking to me about the conversation between the doctor and her friend. The doctor knew that additional chemo would only lead to more hospital and ER visits and would not ultimatley cure or rid her of the cancer that had spread throughout her body. The patient however believed that the chemo was prolonging her life. This raises the ultimate question. At what point, do you give up? Do you pull the plug? Do you say, goodbye to the pain and hello to a new life?

Funny E-mail

Happy New Year back at ya, Monica. I have two other things to tell you: 1. This is a holiday, and you shouldn't be working. 2. Your car is in need of a bath. Yore buddy,